1902' ^.5 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Hetirg K9. Sage 1891 ffiL3.Z'- 8QW.k%.. 3513-1 Cornell University Library The original of this bool< is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924092320369 TRANSACTIONS OF THE THIRD INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS FOR THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS VOLUME II OXFOIID AT THE CLARENDON PRESS M CM VIII h HENRY FROWDE, M.A. P0BLISHEE TO THE TTNIVEESITY OF OXFORD LONDON, EDINBUBQH, NEW YOKE TOEONTO AND MELBOUENE CONTENTS OF VOLUME II PAGE Papebs, Sections V-IX 1-449 Last General Meeting 450 Index of Atjthoes 453 Index of Papers 455 SECTION V EELIGIONS OF INDIA AND IRAN PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS By T. W. RHYS DAVIDS I HAVE been asked by the Organizing Committee to give you to-day some account of what has been accomphshed during the last two or three years — since the last Congress in fact — in the history of the development of religious belief in Iran and India. I should myself have preferred to choose for discussion in this address some one point in the history of those beliefs. The attempt to deal with the whole subject must of necessity resolve itself more or less into a biblio- graphical list. And such lists are apt to be of interest mainly to those who hear themselves mentioned in them. To every one else the meagreness of the result it will be possible to lay before you, may seem little more than a confession of failure in a field of work so important and so vast. But obedience to orders is the first duty of one called to such a post as I have the honour, for the time, to fill ; and I will do my best. And first as to Iran. I had applied for assistance on this part of the subject to the American scholar (so welcome at all our Congresses), who is an acknowledged master of it. Unfortunately Professor Williams Jackson is detained in New York. But he has been good enough to send some notes ^ which have arrived just in time, and which I will now read to you. He says : — 'The field of Iran has continued to be worked by a small but devoted band of scholars, and has yielded a harvest worthy of their activity. ' First among the books which have been published since the Basel Congress, although bearing the date of that year, may be mentioned a memorial volume ot A vesta, Pdhlavi, and Ancient Persian Studies in honour of the late Parsi High Priest, Dastur Peshotanji Sanjana, of Bombay. In this book are contained sixteen different articles con- ' These notes were hastily written and were not destined for publication ; but in order to facilitate the early appearance of this volume, Prof. Jackson has kindly sanctioned their inclusion here. B 2 4 V. Religions of India and Iran tributed by European savants and illustrating various phases of the religion of ancient Iran. It is to be hoped that the continuation of the work by a second series containing the contributions of Parsi scholars themselves may follow, as originally planned. 'To the year 1905 belongs the sketch of the ancient Persian religion by Lehmann, in Chantepie de la Saussaye's manual of the history of religion; and a useful English translation of Tiele's Religion of the Iranian Peoples, by Nariman, in the Indian Antiquary ; while a popular sketch of The Teachings of Zoroaster and the Philosophy of the Parsi Religion was compiled for the Wisdom of the East Series, by Kapadia, himself a Parsi. A convenient summary of the Iranian religion, Die iranische Religion, in German, was contri- buted to Hinneberg's series in 1906 by the distinguished Indologist Hermann Oldenberg. ' During the past three years the veteran scholar. Mills, of Oxford, has continued ever actively to publish in the various journals of Europe, America, and also of India, the results of his Pahlavi studies and his researches in the Zoroastrian Gathas. In addition to these, in a special volume Zarathushtra, Philo, the Achaemenids, and Israel, he has emphasized the role played by Iran in influencing the faith of other lands ; and in another book, entitled A vesta Eschatohgy, he has drawn comparisons between certain Zoroastrian tenets and the ideas in the Biblical books of Daniel and the Revelation. * Of special interest, and appearing in this present year, is a series of translations from the Avesta by Geldner, under the title Die zoroastrische Religion, and forming a part of the religious manuals edited by Bertholet of Basel. Some interesting selections from the Avesta, especially from the Gathas, have been rendered into English verse by the Right Rev. L. C. Casartelli, of Manchester, in his Flowers from an Eastern Garden (1907). Among the most sympa- thetic and even enthusiastic treatments of the Zoroastrian religion is that comprised in a book entitled Zarathushtra and Zarathu^htrianism in the Avesta, by Rustamji Sanjani, Deputy High Priest of the Parsis, which was published at Leipzig in 1908. Some Zoroastrian material, especially a study of " Zoroaster and Euclid ", will be found in the Cama Masonic Jubilee Volume, edited, in 1907, by the inde- fatigable Parsi worker, Jivanji Jamshedji Modi, of Bombay. ' Certain aspects of the religion of Iran, with reference especially to Mithraisra, have received attention from Cumont, the well-known authority on that subject, and from Usener in an article on " Sol Invictus" in Rheinisches Museum, N.F. 60. iv. 465-91, as well as at 1. Presidents Address: Rhys Davids 5 the hands of other students ; and there have been a number of valuable articles on Sufiism, and on the subject of Babism and Bahaism, that religious movement which is assuming ever-increasing importance. ' Of the most signal value and importance, however, have been the additions to our knowledge of Manichaeism made during the past three years by the publication of some of the remarkable discoveries made at Turfan in Chinese Turkestan by Griinwedel, Huth, and Le Coq. These are of inestimable value, as there have been unearthed among the sand-buried ruins large portions of the long- lost Bible of Mani, the Shapurakan, as well as his Evangelion and Epistles, together with fragments of Manichaean hymns, prayers, and treatises in cosmology ; and above all some sections of the New Testament translated into Pahlavi, the language of the Sasanian or Middle Persian Empire. The scholarly world is under special obliga- tions to the learned Berlin professor, F. W. K. Miiller, who has made a number of these fragments accessible in translation in the Proceed- ings of the Berlin Academy of Sciences ; and Salemann has done some supplementary work in the same line by editing a few similar frag- ments that are preserved in the University library at St. Petersburg. When all the fragments unearthed by the Berlin expedition have been published, we may look for remarkable additions to the sphere of our knowledge regarding the religious movements following the rise of Manichaeism in the third century of the Christian era. ' In so brief and cm-sory a sketch as this must be, it is impossible to mention various contributions in the learned journals by such workers as Gray, Reichelt, Freiman, Wilhelm, Meillet, Blochet, Carnoy, and a score of others, including a younger generation of Parsi scholars in India, whose special magazine, Zartoshti, is devoted to the publication of articles relating to their faith. But enough has been brought forward above to prove that the activity has been unceasing and that there has been no falling off of the interest in the work which has for its aim the elucidation of the various phases, ancient and modem, of the religion that belongs to the Land of the Lion and the Sun.' So far Professor Williams Jackson's notes. I would add that that distinguished and prolific scholar has also himself completed, for Geiger and Kuhn's Grundriss, his own summary of the Iranian religion ; and that there is also much that relates to Zoroaster and to Zoroastrianism, as it exists to-day in Iran, in his Persia Past and Present, which appeared two years ago. 6 V. Religions of India and Iran Secondly as to India. We have had no treatises on the whole subject, but several of great importance and interest on special points or branches of it. To begin with the Veda. Professor Bloomfield has published his Vedic Religion, which enables us to compare the matured opinion of another scholar with the standard works of Professor Oldenberg on the same subject, and of Professor Hillebrandt on Vedic Mythology. Oldenberg has given us a volume on Veda- Forschung, in which he incidentally defends his own conclusions. Professor Caland of Utrecht has published an important monograph on magic in India entitled Altindische Zauberei, and in collaboration with Victor Henry of Paris, whose premature death we deplore, has finished vol. i of the detailed study on the Vedic sacrifice, entitled Agnistoma; and finally Professor Bloomfield has brought out the splendid volume containing his Vedic Concordance, which will be so great an assistance and delight to all future students in this field. I am sorry there is nothing to report on the pre-Buddhistic Upanishads. One of our most pressing needs is a historically accurate English translation of these works. The numerous versions we have err, one and all, in putting into these ancient, vague, and mystic poems the more precise terms and ideas of Sankara's com- mentaries written fifteen centuries or more afterwards. We may admire this jump backwards through the centuries as an acrobatic feat of intellectual agility — even more marvellous than that which places the Sankhya Karika of Isvara Krisna, with the commentary of Gaudapada included in a neat parcel, on the lap of the mythical sage Kapila in his lonely hermitage on the slopes of the Himalaya. Such anachronisms are the bane of our studies. The Pali Text Society has continued its publication of the materials for the next stage in the history of religious belief in India. It has brought out an index volume to the Samyutta, compiled by Mrs. Rhys Davids, Mr. Arnold Taylor's edition of the Patisambhida, Mrs. Rhys Davids's editions of the Vibhanga and of one portion of the Patthana, and the beginning of a complete edition of the Commentary on the Dhammapada by Professor Norman. The Society has now very nearly completed its editions of the original texts, and has made substantial progress in its editions of the commentaries upon them. Professor Windisch has contributed the only serious attempt to utilize the now available materials by his masterly monograph, Buddha's Geburt, in which he compares all the ancient forms of the legends connected with this event and traces their growth and history. 1. President'' s Address: Rhys Davids 7 Of the earliest Jain literature we have only Professor Bamett's translations of two texts issued by the Royal Asiatic Society. M, Guerinot has brought also a detailed bibliography of all the work done in Europe to throw light on this interesting belief. For the later Mahayana Buddhism, the history of which is still so great a mystery, the Russian Academy has continued (though, alas, not so rapidly as we hoped) its publication of the texts that alone can furnish a solution of the problem. Professor Poussin has gone on with his important edition of the Madhyamaha Vritti, and Professor Speyer has carried on further his edition of the Avadana Sataka, and the late Professor Bendall published his edition of the Subhasita Samgraha. Professor Poussin has also given us elsewhere his translation of the Bodhicaryavatdra, and Professors Takakusu and Sylvain Levi and M. Huber have con- tributed valuable materials to the elucidation of various points in the origin and history of this school of thought, so influential in India from the time of Kanishka onwards. For the early texts of Hinduism, which in their present state may belong to the same period, we have Professor Garbe's new trans- lation of the Bhagavad Glta. He has prefixed a most interesting and ingenious introduction, discussing the history of the poem itself, and of the Bhagavatas, whose manual of devotion it undoubtedly was. His conclusions are, of course, in the absence of the necessary data, hypothetical. But they will be generally accepted as, for the time at least, the best working hypothesis. Professor Bamett and Professor Deussen have also given us new versions of this enigmatical poem, the latter being included in his Vier philosophische Texte des Mahabhdrata, which has just been brought out in collaboration with Dr. Otto Strauss, a new and valued recruit to our studies. The same scholar, Professor Deussen, has also completed the first volume of his Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophie, the volume concluding his survey of philosophy in India. In this work, also, he is generous with his versions of the more important texts, and the two will be a mine of good material for future students. Professor Oltramare, of Geneva, is devoting a large and valuable work, entitled VHistoire des idies theosophiques dam VInde, to a discussion of the same subject, and the first volume has been issued in the Annales du Miisee Guimet. Of works dealing with mediaeval and modern Hinduism, Professor Thibaut has completed his version of the standard com- mentaries on the Vedanta Sutras by the issue of his translation of 8 V. Religions of India and Iran Ramanuja's Sri Bhashya. It is especially important, as giving us the views of a foremost leader of the modem representatives of the ancient Bhagavatas ; as showing how greatly the power and influence of theistic rather than pantheistic thought in India has been under- estimated; and, incidentally, as exemplifying how widely Indian theologians differed in their interpretation of the relation between their two hypotheses, God and the soul. Professor Jacobi has given us a translation of the Tattvarfhadhi- gama Sutra, a mediaeval work on Jain philosophy; and Professor Hultsch has continued his studies in Indian logic by the translation, with notes, of the TarJcahaumiidl. Dr. W. Jahn has published the text and translation into German of the Saura Purana. Several works on the existing conditions of religious life among the Hindus have also appeared. The most important are two volumes by Mr. J. C. Oman on Mystics, Ascetics, and Saints of India, and Brahmins, Theists, and Muslims in India. On the former of these is based Dr. Richard Schmidt's volume, Fakire und Fdkirenturh, in which a translation of a modern Yoga manual, the Geranda Samhita, has also been included. I am afraid I have wearied you with this list, which might, how- ever, have been made much longer, had I included articles in the Journals, or works of a lower standard. But I crave permission to detain you still a few minutes with some general observations upon it. In the first place, the work done is confined almost exclusively to the editing or translating of the materials for our studies. There is no comparative study of religious beliefs in general, and very little treatment of a historical kind even within the limits of India. But this is a stage through which we have to pass. And it is better so. Generalizations before the facts are collected are apt to be unstable, and worse than useless, in so far as they occupy the ground with false expressions, and take years to rectify. Secondly, you will have observed the very great part played in the production of these works by our various organizations — the Sacred Boohs of the East, the Annates du Musee Guimet, the Pali Text Society, the Harvard Oriental Series, and the various Academies and learned Societies. Without the aid of such organizations it is often impossible to find the funds necessary for printing the works and (what is of equal importance) of paying the authors. Without the certainty that their labour will result in publication, scholars are chary of undertaking arduous tasks. The incentive of being asked 1. President's Address: Rhys Davids 9 to contribute a work to such a series is often the spur which is required even then to begin the work. Other objects are supported in an increasing degree by organizations. Why should scholarship lag behind .'' Let us wholeheartedly support any effort to supply also for our work this now indispensable aid. I began with deploring the meagreness of the results we are able to show. The very writing of the paper has shown me that I was, in a certain sense, wrong. Meagre — yes ; in comparison with the scope of the work to be done. But not so meagre that we may not, with good reason, harbour good hope for the future. These very Congresses are a great help. We have always respected learning ; we learn in them to respect persons. We learn the advantage of wider views, of the capacity of overlooking at one and the same time a large number of facts, some of them outside our own special pursuits. We begin to realize the solidarity of our studies, and to see that we are standing at the dawn of a new era when our studies, steadied by criticism and widened by the uprising of larger and deeper questions, shall attract in still greater measure the passionate patience of scholars, shall secure the attention of the cultured world, and even — though that will probably come the last — shall be awarded a place in the curriculum of our ancient universities. 10 V. Religions of India and Iran 2 WHAT TO LEARN FROM VEDIC MYTHOLOGY By a. HILLEBRANDT Whoever has the honour to address you on Vedic mythology in Oxford cannot but feel the inspiration of a man who has done more than anybody else to place the Veda in the foreground of research, and to assign to it the prominent rank which it has held for so long in the history of religions ; I refer to the honoured name of Max Miiller. I know very well that the actual results of his mythological investigations are but limited, and that his method of inquiry is now antiquated. But I feel bound to say that his memory has not passed and never will pass from the annals of our science, which owes its life and lustre to him, whose poetical intuition grasped the importance of these studies, and whose diligence laid the comer-stone of our edifice. His position cannot be shaken, even though we admit the severe criticism passed on many of his views. The confidence in etymology as a guide through the darkness of mythological questions belongs to the past ; the lofty tower of comparative mythology has nearly fallen to the ground ; neither the goddess of dawn nor the thunderstorm plays an important part in the imagination of primitive man. But the history of science owes its progress to errors as well as to real discoveries. Successful explorers are often indebted to their predecessors, not only for what they have done, but even for what they have failed to do, since the chance of right guidance is facihtated by limiting the possibilities of error. It was a time full of hopes and ideas, when men like Max Miiller and Kuhn endeavoured to create, by the side of comparative grammar, the science of the comparative mythology of Aryan nations. I know that attacks have come, not only from the anthropological school, which is more flourishing to-day than ever, but also from our own ranks, where faith has diminished in Max Miiller's tenet, ' nomina numina,' since etymology is no longer regarded as the key to mythology. But is the position, therefore, undermined, which the Vedic literature once occupied as one of the foremost sources of mythological know- ledge ? Does Vedic literature deserve to be less valued and less studied than before ? I wish to lay before you the reasons why I even now adhere to the idea that the Veda has something to say ; that, in spite of the great 2. redic Mythology: Hillehrandt 11 progress due to ethnologists, it has lost nothing of its original charm and importance. We are indebted for the Vedic songs and prose to the poets and Rsis of ancient India, who composed their hymns for the solemn sacrifices of the kings and nobles of the time, and for the praise of the gods worshipped by their patrons. But this sort of literary refine- ment need not necessarily militate against the genuineness and spon- taneity of its character. Priests and kings were not strangers to the people ; they stood above, but not outside their subjects ; and we may fairly assume that the hymns did reflect the opinions, not only of the higher, but also of the lower classes, and the popular traditions of the different ages. If the Rgveda contains the religion of the upper classes, then the religion of the upper classes has drawn upon popular sources. It has been suggested by two great scholars that an almost insatiable love of wealth and unmistakable signs of immoral life testify to an already highly advanced state of Vedic society. I am unable to admit this. Sins like these are not the dark side of civilization alone. The idea that immorality and avarice were less known to primitive ages, and that they increased with the rise of civilization, is a survival of the old romantic legend, fostered by religious authorities, that the beginning of mankind was a bright dawn. Ethnography has failed to discover this dawn anywhere, and indeed gives evidence to the contrary.^ Sensuality and immorality were in primitive ages naturally less detested than later, and took root even in divine service and ritual. Morality gains ground fari 'passu with the advance of civiHza- tion and religion. I also believe that the love of kine on the part of those ancient herdsmen and cattle-breeders, whose poets call gods and kings ' bulls ', and choose their similes from pasture grounds and agricultural hfe, is quite compatible with a primitive state of society. The tribe of the Dinkas, for instance, in the heart of Africa, has never been thought representative of civilization ; but it is to them that we must turn our eyes in order to find an analogy. ' Their chief desire,' Dr. Schweinfurth says, 'is to acquire and possess cows; nay, in some respects there is a real cult addressed to them, and whatever proceeds from kine is considered pure and noble ; ... it is more the delight in material property which makes the cow the object of this * To quote an example : G. Fritsoh, Die Eingeborenen Sud-Africas, says (p. 307, of the Koi-koin) : ' Sittliohe Grundsatze fiir seine Handlungsweisen zu suchen, fallt durohsolmittlich Niemandem ein. Wenn nicht die Furcht vor Strafe die Leute zuriickhalt, etwas Schlechtes auszufiihren, die Stimme des Gewissens diirf te selten stark genug dazu sein. Liige, Diebstahl und Sinnlichkeit sind deshalb als weitere Laster dieser Stamme anzufiihren.' 12 V. Religions of India and Iran kind of homage. Their cattle are dearer to them than a wife or child.' 1 It is also not without interest to read what the missionary Albert Kropf says of the Xosa Kafirs, whose ' greatest passion and worship is the breeding of cows. . . . They feast their eyes on the cattle with such delight that their minds dwell on them by day and night. They sing and praise their quahties . . . "Ox," "buU," or "cow" have become titles of respect for strong and liberal people . . .' ^ This is nearly the same state of things as in Vedic times. If we remember that ancient India had neither temples nor images of its gods, that its Uturgies are full of reminiscences of savage life, and are often an immediate expression of it, we are fully justified in upholding the idea that the Veda is not far removed from a very primitive state of society, and can teach useful lessons on the history of primitive religions. The Veda, it is true, does not contain anything like Indo-European religion ; the names of its gods and goddesses generally give no clue as to the original meaning of their bearers ; nevertheless, it remains an almost unique book, or rather unique literature. It is needless to speak here of the valuable services rendered by ethnology to the study of the history and psychology of religions ; the work on Primi- tive Culture, by our Honorary President, Mr. Tylor, would convince even the sceptic. Ethnography has spread out before us a great mass of material, collected from all parts of the world, which allows us an insight into the beliefs and customs of lower races. In the light of anthropological evidence, philologists are sometimes able to find a meaning where all other means of interpretation are denied. But, on the other hand, it cannot replace the Vedic literature, because this latter not only represents a short history of religion and of religions, but also permits us to follow through centuries the current of religious thought from one point to another ; we can thus cast a glance into the historical development of mythology in times uninfected by influences other than those which sprang from Indian soil, from the Indian climate, from the Indian mind itself. This may seem to some a matter of course ; but it needs emphasis, since in many quarters it has almost been forgotten. We can follow the changes brought about in the nature and conception of single gods, and can see how earthly foes, in the memory of later generations, are turned into demons or how ancestors receive godlike characters. The process of mytho- logical evolution never stands still ; the migration of tribes, the influence of a new home and another climate, the mighty force of ' Im Eerzen von Africa, i. 176. " I owe the reference (as also that in the foregoing note) to Schurtz, Urgeschichte der Kultur, p. 248. 2. Vedic Mythology: Hillebrandt 13 single personalities, the transmission of ideas from generation to generation, and the unceasing restlessness of the human mind, are the factors that weigh upon mythological phenomena and change their natural aspect. Here the Veda is irreplaceable. Let me adduce a few examples. Indra, the great warrior and slayer of Vrtra, occupies an almost central position in many parts of the Rgveda, standing in the zenith of his power. But we can follow his deohne. Inherited from a pre- historic period, from a more northern home, where the combat of the sun-god with the demon of winter had its natural purport, he begins to fade away under the subtropical sky of India, and to become a subordinate of Visnu, who, from the inferior position, as it seems, of a dwarf-god, ascends the sky and becomes the highest deity in later ages. In the Rgveda he is but loosely and artificially connected with Indra's heroic deeds ; probably because the zeal of some wor- shippers tried to interweave his fate with that of his superior rival. But later the scene has entirely changed. In the Mahabharata Visnu is Indra's superior, and the latter, frightened by the power of his old adversary, seeks his assistance ; Buddhism has turned him, as Rhys Davids says, into a passably good Buddhist, anxious to serve the new great ruler of the earth. While Indra, though still glorified by the halo of a devaraj, is in fact nothing more than a godUng Uving upon the past, his enemy Vrtra, in whom the Rgveda finds nothing amiable or pious, becomes a true Brahman and, as a penitent sinner, enters Visnu's highest place ; in the Buddhist literature he has almost entirely disappeared from the scene. Another example is offered by Varuna. Though in the Veda only loosely (and certainly not more than other gods) connected with the sea, he becomes later on lord of the ocean. The Rgveda has not yet bereft him of his luminous insignia, but has developed him into the ruler over right and wrong, into the defender of the law. He has gained the mastery over his old co-partner Mitra, who, while shining in full glory in the West, has lost his importance in the East, and disappears in the rays of his companion. But Varuna also is forced to give way before higher authorities. It has correctly been asserted that in the Rgveda he enjoys but the last moment of his full fame ; the gloomy and somewhat mischievous personification of the moon- god, comprehensible in a climate where the reign of winter coincides with the ascension of the moon, may have been felt incompatible with the lovely moonlight of India, cherished by all the poets. He has to surrender his power to Indra, who, in his turn, is dethroned by Visnu or Krsna. It is interesting to see how the Indian priests and rituahsts, facing the rivalry between Indra and Varuna, tried to make a com- promise with both of them, and directed hymns and oblations to an 14 V. Religions of India and Iran artificial duality, Indra-Varuna, which, like other fiores arte facti, has never gained firm ground in Indian mythology. The facts are different in the case of Yama and the two heavenly dogs. Yama, the son of an old sun-god, Vivasvat, had been changed into a god of death, and entirely lost his original meaning; which is recognizable to us only by means of some inferior traits which the course of time was unable to efface. If Bloomfield is right — and I beheve he is — in explaining the two heavenly dogs as the sun and moon, their connexion in popular and universal belief with the son of the sun-god was only made possible by the utter oblivion into which the original character of Yama and its genealogy had fallen. I have as yet only quoted gods who belong to successive periods, and who allow us, by the different characters which they assume therein, a glance into the acting forces of mythology. But the Rgveda itself contains no less interesting examples. Its several Mandalas, as is well known, represent the religious inheritance of centuries, and can, by careful examination of their contents, give a clear idea of the effect which time and place have upon the trans- formation of ideas. May I here refer you to an illustration — -important, as it seems to me — which I gave in the first volume of my Vedic Mythology 1 There is a weU-known hymn in the tenth Mandala of the Rgveda (x. 108) containing a dialogue between the Panis and Sarama, the heavenly bitch sent by Indra across the Rasa to reclaim the stolen cattle. No doubt the Panis are therein considered as a class of demons abiding on the distant shore of a mythical river ; the cows are rays of light or, as some say, a synonym of clouds. We stand here upon pure mythological ground. The question arises what sort of demons the Panis originally were. Some scholars are of opinion that by that name we are to understand a class of deceitful and avaricious tradesmen, basing this view on a merely fictitious etymology which connects the name of Pani with the Sanskrit verb Tpan ; others think that the word occurs with considerably greater frequency in the sense of ' niggard ', especially with regard to sacrificial gifts, and that from this signification it developed the mythological meaning of demons similar to those who primarily withheld the treasures of heaven.^ I do not think that either of these explanations holds good. It seems to me that all passages containing the word Pani ought first to be classified according to the Mandalas in which they occur ; they will thus be subjected to a more individualizing procedure which will help us to reahze the relative difference of age, scene of action, and the other circumstances of the several Mandalas. ^ Macdonell, Vedic Mythology, s.v. Pani. 2. Fedic Mythology: Hillehrandt 15 Now the first fact to strike the eye of the statistical observer is the great difference between the individual Mandalas in frequency of reference to the name of Pani : it occurs but once in n and ni, twice in v and ix, thrice in iv, but twelve times in Mandala vi, thus giving evidence of the close contact into which the composers of its hymns or their forefathers came with the Panis, and impeUing us to consult the songs of the Bharadvajas first for the true character of the Panis. By following this indication we soon perceive that the sixth book reveals to us a chapter of real history. We seem to hear the clamour of arms re-echoed by the songs of the priestly bards of the Bharadvaja clan, and feel ourselves transferred into the midst of border-wars raging between Indian tribes and their predatory neighbours. To the authors of the sixth Mandala the Panis do not yet appear in the Ught of mythical beings seen in the dim twilight of uncon- trollable traditions, but as men of undoubted reality, as hated adver- saries worthy only to be slain in battle. Thus we read in vi. 20. 4 : ' By hundreds, O Indra, feU the Panis, in the struggle for life, for the benefit of Kavi Dasoni'; or vi. 51. 14: 'Knock down the greedy Pani ; a woK is he ' ; or vi. 45. 31 : ' Brbu trod upon the broadest head of the Panis.' We here encounter a name, which, as far as I know, occurs only once in other works of Vedic literature. Among the benefactors who bestowed hberal gifts on a son of the Bharadvaja clan there is, in the Sankhayana Srauta Sutra, a Brbu enumerated who bears the surname taksan, which apparently does not mean ' carpenter ', but a warrior of the house of Taksan, caUing to our mind the name of Taksasila, the once celebrated city in the Panjab, which, in my opinion, owed its origin to the dynasty or the clan of the Taksans. It was probably one of their ancestors who in the above-mentioned verse is reported to have been victorious over the Panis, over ' the biggest head ' of the Panis. The battlefield lay on the banks of the river Sarasvati, by which name we are here to understand, not the holy Sersuti in the Madhyadesa, but, as I have shown elsewhere, the river known to the Greeks as Arachotos, and to the inhabitants of Iran as Haraquaiti. This is confirmed by an interesting passage in the sixth book, praising the HberaUty shown to Bharadvaja by Abhyavartin Cayamana of the Parthavas (vi. 27. 8). There is no need to doubt that farthava here means anything else than the inhabitants or the royal house of Parthia, who were served by one of the sons of the Bharadvaja employed as a religious ofacial. By subjecting in this manner the book of the Bharadvajas to an individuaUzing examination we obtain a vivid picture of the joys and sorrows, of the hopes and fears, of a little clan 16 V. Religions of India and Iran >, encamping on the banks of the Haraquaiti, in the fertile districts of Arachosia, far away from their Indian brothers, who settled in the sacred middle-land and, in course of time, transformed the hostile tribe of Panis into a band of evil spirits hovering on the banks of the once historical, now mythical, river Rasa. The Maruts are, without doubt, storm-gods ; but a careful inquiry into aU circumstances leads us to discover the reason of their deifica- tion in ancestor-worship which changed the name of an Indian clan into that of storm-gods, thus adding a new trait to the Vedic pantheon. Not all famihes advanced as far. The Angiras and Bhrgus were also Indian famihes or clans ; but they were not changed into storm- gods, but continued to hve in the memory of later times as pious sacrificers, who by the austerity of their vows or the excellency of their performances found the way to heaven. It is these glances at the development of mythological phenomena which form a characteristic feature of Vedic mythology, and secure for it, independently of ethnology, a prominent place among all sources of mythological research. But there is another lesson to be learned in addition to this. We are often told by philologists and others that primitive mankind has but small interest in the heavenly phenomena and cares but Httle for the movements and influence of the celestial bodies on their daily life, their whole interests being absorbed by the occurrences of the surrounding nature. This point of view, to which also Eduard Meyer has lent his weighty authority,^ is scarcely intelligible, and owes, I believe, its origin to Dr. Mannhardt, who has been the first to duly appreciate the importance of the lower gods in mythology, but also to overestimate their priority. Wandering tribes, herdsmen, agricul- turists are, more than anybody else, induced and obUged to observe the phenomena of the sky, as indeed all those hving in the country are naturally inclined to do. We cannot, I think, draw a line of temporal demarcation between the classes of higher and lower gods or advocate the priority of either of them. All dates given by Vedic texts are unfavourable to the idea shared by the Mannhardt school. One cannot object that the Veda reflects the notion of an already advanced state of rehgious feehng ; even if we take that for granted, how are we to dispose of the almost unanimous opinion of ethnography in discovering nature-gods in all stages of primitive belief ? But I think that even in that respect the Veda only mirrors the state of a rather early time. I know very well that modern Vedic mythology, and especially my own writings, have been gravely charged by some of my colleagues with excess of sun and moon finding, and I have been censured on account of my bias for these particular phenomena. ' OeschicTUe des AUertums, I', 1, 112. 2. Vedic Mythology: Hillebrandt 17 I am far from being biased for any particular interpretation. I should be more afraid if my opinions were also contradicted by ethnography ; but I am glad to find in these very works an unexpected helper and ally* An examination of the works of Tylor and Brinton and others will convince any one of the great influence of the celestial bodies on the development of mythology. Andrew Lang proclaims the abun- dance of poetical nature-myths.^ Dr. Ehrenreich, in an interesting study on Gutter wnd Heilbringer, quite lately gave expression to the idea — strongly defended also by Dr. Siecke — that the chief, perhaps the only ingredients of primary myths, are the motions of the sun and moon, their rising and setting, their seeming flight or enforced meeting, &c. ; that primitive myth always moves in a very narrow circle and treats everywhere the same or closely related materials ; and that the traditional materials, especially those which come from primitive races of to-day, bear the stamp of natural mythology.^ I have tried to account for the multitude of luminary deities pro- ceeding from the same natural phenomenon by the assumption that in Vedic mythology the gods of different tribes and different times are amalgamated — gods who had formerly been conceived under other circumstances and who, by the rivulets of family traditions, were carried down to the great reservoir which we call Vedic mythology. In bringing forward this opinion I feel myself supported again by the encouraging hand of ethnography. Dr. Schurtz, reflecting on the great numbers of luminary deities and heroes in aU mythologies, puts forward the explanation that in every district, in every place, there arose local deities, which were retained as separate gods when the tribal iadividuaUties were absorbed into a greater community,^ and thereby confirms the conclusion to which I have been led by a different and merely philological way. It is unfortunate for Vedic mythology that the ideas formed by great scholars of the past after a preliminary study of the materials — ^intelligible and pardonable in the earlier days of our science^still weigh on the views of the later generation ; which is unwilling to grant to mythology the privilege of being a science in itself, which no Yaska and no Sayana can teach. It is unfortimate too that our great pre- decessors discovered fairies, demons, and cows in the cloudy sky, where there are none, and that they overestimated the influence of dawn, lightning, and the thunderstorm. We often, for instance, hear repeated the story of the thunder-god, who slew the demon of drought, who withheld from mankind the heavenly cows, i.e. the fertilizing rain, and other explanations of threadbare quahty. Almost all our '■ Modern Mythology, pp. 133, 135. ' Zeitschrift fiir Ethnologie, 1906, pp. 552, 553 sq. ' UrgescMchte der Kultur, p. 580. 18 V. Religions of India and Iran handbooks are teeming with antiquated views. Dr. Ehrenreich justly remarks that cloud-formations or dawn are not phenomena which would make the same impression everjrwhere and therefore require corresponding interpretations ; and further that the cases in which a personification of clouds can be observed are very scarce. In fact, I can discover no cloud-demons in the Rgveda and only a moderate influence of the dawn. The splendid phenomenon of Usas owes its apotheosis more to its connexion with the New- Year festival than to the reappearance of the dayhght. But still more disastrous than the reverence for the views of our predecessors has been the confidence placed in the wisdom and the authority of Indian commentators Hke Yaska and Sayana. I was glad recently to find a passage in Bloomfield's Religion of the Veda (p. 91), wherein the author says with regard to Yaska : ' Many years' occupation with the writings of this worthy, whose sense and erudition are valued much by the Hindus, as well as by Western scholars, have not increased my belief in his authority or decreased my faith in the infinite possibihties of his ineptitude.' This holds good also with respect to Sayana. No doubt we find in his volumes much that is worthy of our consideration, and ought not to be overlooked ; but, in mythological matters, he has ' clouded ' our insight and barred our progress. The dim notion that an excellent Sanskrit scholar and diligent compiler of mediaeval India must at the same time be a safe guide through the intricacies of a mythology representing the conceptions of long past ages, has biased our method and infected its soberness. We must try to get rid of him, as also of the now fashionable superstition that the ancient herdsmen and settlers of India knew but little of the sun, nothing of the moon, but were other- wise much more ingenious than they themselves would have claimed to be. The multitude of their gods betrays not an equal richness of ideas, but only a richness of what I would call mythological syno- nyms. By removing, little by little, the heaps of sand that have accumulated around the Veda in the course of more than thirty centuries we may perhaps succeed in making this Indian fountain flow again, thus gaining access to the oldest source not only of Indian but also of ethnographical antiquity. UBER DIE CHRONOLOGIE DER UPANISHAD TEXTE Von p. DEUSSEN l)iE Upanishad's des Veda f anden bei ihrem ersten Bekaimtwerden im Abendlande durch den Oupnekhat des Anquetil du Perron eine geteilte Aufnahme. Einige wenige, wie Schopenhauer, Schelling und andere bewunderten den Tief sinn einzelner Ausspriiche ; viele fanden in ihnen nur einen Wust widersprechender Gedanken ; die meisten schenkten ihnen iiberhaupt keine Beachtung. Dieses Verhaltnis anderte sich auch nicht wesentlich, seitdem die Originaltexte durch Roer, Cowell u. a. bekannt wurden, und in diesen selbst wie noch viel mehr in Max Miiller verdiente tJbersetzer fanden. Denn auch jetzt trat noch nicht genugsam hervor, dass wir in den Upanishad's die Zeugnisse einer philosophischen Entwioklung besitzen, welche sich ■wohl durch ein halbes Jahrtausend hinziehen mag, und zu deren Rekon- struktion die vorhegenden Texte ausreichende Materiahen darbieten. Schon auf den ersten Bhck zerlegt sich die Gesamtheit der Upanishad- litteratur in drei Gruppen, welche drei verschiedenen, auf einander •folgenden Perioden angehoren miissen. Die erste und alteste dieser Gruppen wird gebildet durch die alten Prosa-Upanishad's, welche, in der schwerfalligen Prosa der alten Brahmana-Texte, AUegorien, Reflexionen und Legenden in buntem Duroheinander enthalten. Es sind ihrer fiinf : Brihadaranyaka, Chandogya, Taittiriya, Aitareya und Kaushltaki ; und wenn auch diese aUe teUs altere, teUs jiingere 'Texte enthalten, so lehrt doch eine genaue Vergleichung der in ihnen vorkommenden paraUelen Stiicke, welche bald kiirzer, bald langer und mitunter in wortlicher Ubereinstimmung denselben Gegenstand behandeln, dass im ganzen und grossen die oben angegebene Reihen- folge dieselbe ist, in welcher diese Texte in vieKacher Abhangigkeit von einander entstanden sein miissen ; so dass Brihadaranyaka, von spateren Zusatzen abgesehen, die altesten, Kaushitaki die jiingsten Texte enthalt. Eine zweite Gruppe wird gebildet durch eine Reihe von Upanishad's in Versen, Die Atmanlehre, welche wir in der ersten Gruppe noch nach ihrer Genesis beobachten konnten, erscheint hier voUig gefestigt. Das fliissige Grold der alten Prosa-Upanishad's ist zu festen Miinzen gepragt, welche von Hand zu Hand gehen, und durch den Gebrauch hier und da schon als abgegriffen erscheinen, Dieselben Verse begegnen ims wieder und wieder in den verschiedenen Upanishad's, nicht iiberall mit richtigem Verstandnisse verwendet ; an die Stelle des in den alten Prosa-Upanishad's vorherrschenden c2 20 V. Religions of India and Iran tastenden Suchens und Forschens ist vieKach ein pathetischer Pre- digerton getreten, welcher sich f ertiger Resultate freut, ohne dieselben iiberall nach ihrem vollen Werte zu verstehen. Auch innerhalb dieser Gruppe lasst sich durch Vergleichung der Parallelen, irnd der ver- schiedenen Art ihrer Verwendung, eine chronologische Abfolge ermitteln. Auf der Grenze steht die noch halb in Prosa vorliegende Kena-Upanishad. Ihr folgen Katbaka, 19a, ^'^^tagvatara und Mundaka, wobei auch hier die genannte Reihenfolge, von manchen iibergreifenden Stiicken abgesehen, die historische sein diirfte. Eine dritte Gruppe von Upanishad's, bestehend aus Pragna, Maitra- yaniya und Mandukya redet wieder in Prosa, aber in einer Prosa, welche sich von dem naiven und unbeholfenen Brahmana-Stile der alten Prosa-Upanishad's merklich unterscheidet, und in seiner gewun- denen Kiinsthchkeit schon an die Prosa der indischen Romane und Kommentare erinnert. Die noch spateren Atharva-Upanishad's, wi& sie teUs den Yoga und Sannyasa verherrhchen, teils givaitischen und vishnuitischen Charakter an sich tragen, konnen wir hier ausser Betracht lassen, da der orthodoxe, namenthch durch ^aiikara vertre- tene Vedanta sie nicht zu kennen, oder doch nicht anzuerkennen, scheint. Ist diese Reihenfolge, welche sich auf eine eingehende Vergleichung der verschiedenen Texte stiitzt, und ein vieKaches tJbergreifen der- selben nicht ausschliesst, auch nur im wesenthchsten aiif einer historic schen Aufeinanderfolge beruhend, so entroUen uns die Upanishad's das Bild einer grossen philosophischen Entwicklung, welche beginnt mit einem kiihnen und schrofEen Idealismus, und von diesem durch die- Stufen des Pantheismus, Kosmogonismus und Theismus schhessUch zum Atheismus des spateren Sankhyam, und endhch zum Apsychismus des jiingeren Buddhismus, f iihrt. Somit bietet die indische PhUosophie das Schauspiel einer stufenweise zunehmenden Degeneration, welche bedingt wird durch das Bestreben, das urspriingUch metaphysisch G«dachte mehr und mehr mit empirischen Formen zu umkleiden, und dadurch gewissermassen zu verfalschen. Wir woUen versuchen, die genannten Stufen der Reihe nach in der Kiirze zu charakterisieren. 1. Idealismus. SprachUche wie sachhche Griinde treten dafiir ein, dass die altesten Texte der Upanishad-Litteratur in den Stiicken in Brihadaranyaha, 1-4 zu finden sind, welche sich an den Namen des Yajuavalkya kniipfen, und diesen, wer er auch immer gewesen sein mag, in vertrauhchen Zwiegesprachen und ofEenthchen Disputationen als den Lehrer der echten Weisheit erscheinen lassen. Drei Satze sind es, in deren. Darlegimg die mannigfachen Reden des Yajnavalkya kulminieren : 1. Der Atman allein hat wahre ReaUtat, alles andere in der Welt 3. Chronologie der Upanishadtexte : Deussen 21 ist nur real, sofern es im Atman, d. h. im Bewusstsein vorhanden ist; nicht um des Gatten mllen ist der Gatte lieb, sondem um des Atman ■willen ist der Gatte lieb ; ebenso stebt es mit Gattin, Sohnen, Reichtum, Brahmanenstand, Kriegerstand, mit Gottem, Veden und Welten; sie alle sind nur um des Atman_ willen lieb, d. b. sie existieren f iir una nur, sofern sie einen Teil des Atman, des Selbstes, des Bewusstseins bUden. Diese Auffassung wird bestatigt durch die unmittelbar fol- genden Worte Brih. Up. 2, 4, 5 : 'Den Atman fiirwabr soU man sehen, soU man boren, soil man versteben, soU man iiberdenken, o Maitreyl ; fiirwabr, wer den Atman geseben, gebort, verstanden und erkaimt bat, von dem wird diess ganze Welt gewusst.' 2. Wie scbon aus dieser SteUe bervorgebt, ist der Atman das Subjekt des Erkennens in ims. Er ist ' der aus Erkenntnis bestebende (vijnanamaya), im Herzen innerlicb leucbtende Geist' (Brih. 4, 3, 7 sq.), ist das Licbt, welcbes leucbtet, wenn Sonne, Mend, Sterne und Feuer erloscben sind {Brih. 4, 3, 2-6), ist das 'Licbt der Licbter' {Brih. 4, 4, 16), dem aUes nacbglanzt, von dessen Glanze diese ganze Welt erglanzt. 3. Als solcber, als das Subjekt des Erkennens in uns, ist imd bleibt der Atman selbst unerkennbar : ' Nicbt seben kannst du den Seber des Sebens, nicbt boren kannst du den Horer des Horens, nicbt versteben kannst du den Versteber des Verstebens, nicbt erkennen kannst du den Erkeimer des Erkennens ' {Brih. 3, 4, 2). ' Denn wo eine Zweibeit gleicbsam ist, da siebt einer den andern, bort einer den andem, erkennt einer den andern ; wo aber einem aUes zum eigenen Selbste geworden ist, wie sollte er da irgend wen seben, wie sollte er da irgend wen boren, wie sollte er da irgend wen erkennen ? Durch welcben er dieses alles erkennt, wie soUte er das erkennen, wie soUte er docb den Erkenner erkennen ? ' Diese drei Satze, welcbe die Weisbeit des Yajnavalkya in mice entbalten, sind die Grundlagen eines Systems des riicksicbtslosesten IdeaUsmus, und wurden als solcbe aus der Verdunkelung, in welcbe sie durcb die folgende Entwicklung geraten waren, durcb ^ankara bervorgezogen ; sie bUden bei ibm die Fundamentalsatze setaer esoteriscben Lebre, oder, wie er sagt, der boberen Wissenscbaft (para vidya), welcbe in der Tbeologie die Unerkennbarkeit des Brab- man, in der Kosmologie die NicbtreaUtat der Welt ausser Brabman und in der Psycbologie die Identitat des Brabman mit dem Atman lebrt. Zum Vergleicbe mit diesem IdeaUsmus des Yajnavalkya bietet sicb auf griecbiscbem Boden der nicbt weniger excentriscbe, die ileaUtat der Aussenwelt leugnende IdeaUsmus des Parmenides dar, aber wie dieser in Griecbenland, so fand der Gedanke des Yajnavalkya in Indien zunacbst kein voUes Verstandnis. Wie Parmenides von Zenon, so wurde die Lebre des Yajnavalkya in der nacbfolgenden Entwicklung empiriscb umgedeutet imd dadurcb verdorben. 22 F". Religions of India and Iran 2. Pantheismus. Die Realitat der Aussenwelt drangte sich dem Bewusstsein zu stark auf, als dass man sie mit Yajnavalkya hatte leugnen konnen. Anderseits musste man versuchen, mit ihr und neben ihr die Gedanken des grossen Lehrers festzuhalten. Es geschah in der Weise, dass man sagte : Die Welt ist real und doch ist der Atman das aUein Reale, denn die Welt ist eben der Atman. Auf diesem Standpunkte stehen die zahkeichen Texte, welche den Atman als das unendlich Kleine in uns mit der Welt als dem unendlich Grossen ausser uns identificieren. Vorwiegend tritt dieses Bestreben hervor in der Chandogya-Upanishad. Es geniigt, an ihre Worte zu erinnern : ' Dieser ist meine Seele im innern Herzen, kleiner als ein Reiskom oder G«rstenkom oder Senf- kom oder Hirsekorn oder eines Hirsekornes Kern, — dieser ist meine Seele im innern Herzen, grosser als die Erde, grosser als der Luf traum, grosser als der Himmel, grosser als diese Welten' {Chand. 3, 14, 3). 3. Kosmogonismus. Diese Gleichung : Welt = Atman, so oft sie auch in alien moglichen Variationen wiederholt wurde, war und blieb doch sehr undurchsichtig. So ging man dazu iiber, an die Stelle dieser unverstandHchen Identitat die empirisch leichter zu fassende CausaUtat zu setzen, und zu sagen : Der Atman ist die Ursache und die Welt seine Wirkung, wodurch man einen Anschluss an die altvedischen Kosmogonien gewann, daher wir diese Entwicklungsstufe als Kosmogonismus bezeichnet haben. Auch auf ihr bleibt es der in uns unmittelbar zum Bewusstsein kommende individueUe Atman, welcher die Welt schafft und dann als individueUe Seele in diese seine Schopfung eingeht: 'Er begehrte, ich wiU vieles sein, win mich fortpflanzen, da schuf er diese ganze Welt, was irgend vorhanden ist. Nachdem er sie geschaffen, ging er in dieselbe ein,' wie die Taittirlya-Upanishad (2, 6) sagt. Neben und nach ihr ist als Hauptvertreterin dieses Standpunktes die Aitareya-Upanishad zu betrachten, welche als Rigveda-Upanishad vom Purushahymnus {Rigv. X, 90) ausgeht, um seine Anschauungen der Atmanlehre imterzu- ordnen. Dem entsprechend ist der Purusha nicht mehr das Urprin- zip, sondern der Atman schafft den Purusha, aus diesem die Welthiiter, lasst diese, damit sie Nahrung geniessen konnen, in den von ihm ge- schaffenen Menschen einfahren und spricht sodann : 'Wie konnte dieses [Menschengefiige] ohne mich bestehen. Und er erwog : Auf welohem Wege soU ich in dasselbe eingehen ? Da spaltete er hier den Scheitel und ging durch diese Pforte hinein ' {Ait. Up. 1, 3, 11). 3. Chronologic der Upanishadtexte : Deussen 23 4. Theismus. Im weiteren Verlaufe vollzog sich eine Scheidung zwischen dem Atman, welcher die Welten schafEt, und dem Atman, welcher als individuelle Seele in die von ihm geschaffene Welt eingeht. Diese Scheidung, vorbereitet durch Stellen wie Brih. 4, 4, 22 : ' Hier, inwendig im Herzen ist ein Eaum, darin liegt er, der Herr des Weltalls, der Gebieter des Weltalls, der Piirst des Weltalls,' vollzog sich deutlich und immer deutlicher von Kathaka, 3, 1 an : ' Zwei Trinker der Ver- geltung ihrer Werke droben im Jenseits fuhren in die Hohle ; Schatten und Licht nennt sie, wer Brahman's kundig.' Der hochste Atman ist hier das Licht, der individuelle Atman nur sein Schatten. Sofort stellt sich aber auch hier wie auf bibUschem Gebiete als unvermeidliche Consequenz des Theismus die Pradestination ein; Kath. 2, 23 {=Mund. 3, 2, 3) : ' Nur wen er wahlt, von dem wird er begriffen, ihm macht der Atman ofEenbar sein Wesen.' Das Hauptdenkmal dieses Theismus ist die 9veta9vatara-Upanishad, nur dass durch die auf ihr erreichte Stufe des Theismus noch aUe jene friiheren Stufen des Ideahsmus, Pantheis- mus und Kosmogonismus durchschimmern ; denn in der Religion beharrt neben dem Neuen das Alte, well es auf geheiHgter Uberhefe- rung beruht, und wie das neue Testament nicht mit dem alten auf rau- men darf, so auf dem Gebiete des Veda jede neue Entwicklimgstufe nicht mit den vorhergehenden ; das abgestorbene Alte erhalt sich, und das Neue baut sich zwischen seinen Ruinen an, wodurch das Ganze immer hunter, wlderspruchsvoUer und phUosophisch unver- standlicher wird. Ihren Theismus proklamiert die (^yeiVLqvaXajca,- Upanishad, wenn sie ankniipfend an den umgedeuteten Vers Rigveda 1, 164, 20 sagt {gvet. 4, 6-7=Mund. 3, 1, 1-2) : ' Zwei schon befliigelte, verbimdne Freunde Umarmen einen und denselben Baum ; Einer von ihnen speist die siisse Beere, Der andre schaut, nicht essend, nur herab. Zu solchem Baum der Geist herabgesunken In seiner Ohnmacht gramt sich wahnbefangen ; Doch wenn er ehrt und schaut des andern Allmacht Und Majestat, dann weicht von ihm sein Kummer.' 5. Atheismus. Auf dem Standpunkte des Theismus stand der materiellen Welt nicht mehr der in uns unmittelbar sich bezeugende Atman gegenuber, sondem dieser eine Atman hatte sich gespalten in den einen weltschaf- fenden hochsten Atman und in eine Vielheit individueller, von ihm abhangiger Seelen oder Purusha's. Diese Spaltung fuhrte notwendig zum Absterben des einen der beiden Zweige, zum Aufgeben des 24 V. Religions of India and Iran hochsten Atman. Nachdem er nicht mehr durch die individuelle Seele, welche sein natiirlicher Nahrboden gewesen war, beglaubigt wurde, war er iiberhaupt nicht mehr hinreichend beglaubigt, um nicht von dem riicksichtslos fortschreitenden Realismus iiber Bord geworfen zu werden. Dies geschah auf nachvedischem Boden durch das Saiikhya-System, welchem nach Beseitigung des hochsten Atman, des Igvara, nur noch die materielle Natur als Prakriti, und in sie verstrickt eine Vielheit individueller Purusha's iibrig geblieben war. Dieser Duahsmus der Sankhyalehre ist philosophisch nur zu begreifen als das letzte Resultat der von uns geschUderten, stufenweise zu- nehmenden Degeneration. Vergebens sucht das Yogasystem, indem es sich auf dem Atheismus des Sankhyam auf baut, den l5vara wieder einzufiihren. Er gewinnt auf diesem Boden kein rechtes Leben und steht da als ein dem System eingefiigtes, kiinstUches GUed, welches in den Zusammenhang des Systems ebensowenig eingreift, wie die Grotter bei Epikur oder der Gott des englischen Deismus. 6. Apsychism/us, Ein weiterer und letzter Schritt auf dieser Bahn bestand darin, dass nicht nur der l9vara, die hochste Seele, sondem auch der Purusha, die individuelle Seele geleugnet wurde, und diesen Schritt tat einerseits der MateriaUsmus der Carvaka's, anderseits, wenn nicht schon Buddha sslbst, so doch der spatere Buddhismus, wenn er den ganzen Menschen als eiae Verflechtung der fiinf Skandha's oder Aste, rupam, vedana, samjna, samskara's und vijiianam (Korperhchkeit, Gefiihl, Wahmeh- mung, Strebungen und Gesamtbewusstsein) betrachtete, welche durch Zeugung und Geburt sich verbinden und mit dem Tode unwieder- bringhch auseinander fahren. 7. Die Reformation des Qankara. Was f iir die christliche Religion Luther, das war f iir die indische der grosse Reformator ^aiikara (geb. a.d. 788), welcher das Sankhyam wie den Buddhismus riicksichtslos und mit einer an Luther erinnernden Heftigkeit bekampfte, zuriickgrifE auf den alten IdeaUsmus des Yajnavalkya und dessen drei Hauptsatze zur Grundlage der von ihm so genannten hoheren Wissenschaft (para vidya) machte, wahrend er neben ihr die verschiedenen realistischen Modifikationen dieses Idealis- mus, soweit sie schon auf dem Boden der zwolf alteren, von ihm allein anerkannten Upanishad's sich vorfinden, als niedere Wissenschaft (apara vidya) bestehen Hess und aus einer Anpassung der gottUchen Vedaoffenbarung an die Eassungskraft der Menge zu begreifen suchte. So entstand das grosse, philosophisch-theologische System des ^aiikara, welches noch heute in Indien seine Herrschaf t behauptet. ON THE SYSTEMATIC STUDY AND RELIGIOUS IMPORTANCE OF EASTERN, PARTICULARLY INDIAN, LAWBOOKS By JULroS JOLLY The legal literature of Eastern nations mostly forms part of their Sacred Books, and the labours of scholars in that field may therefore justly claim the attention of those interested in the History of Religions. Now a distinguished Italian jurist, Dr. Giuseppe Mazzarella, has lately put forth a remarkable scheme for collecting and translating the whole body of Eastern law-books. Starting from the fact that the peoples of the East possess quite a number of very comprehensive systems of law, the records of which would fill many volumes in print, he points out that European scholars have only just made a beginning in studyiDg this vast literature. The majority of Oriental works on law has never been translated ; of others the existing versions are unsatisfactory. What is more, there exists hardly any co-operation between the two sets of workers in that field, the jurists and ethno- logists on one hand, the philologists and Orientalists on the other hand. The philologists, whose attention is entirely absorbed by the peculiar philological difficulties besetting the study of these ancient texts, are not sufficiently acquainted with the institutions and usages of the East, to be able to form a correct estimate of Eastern law, and to translate Eastern law-books in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. The jurists and ethnologists are apt to fall into many mistakes, owing to their insufficient knowledge of the ancient and modern languages of the East. In order to remedy this evU, it is proposed by Dr. Mazzarella. that philologists and jurists should henceforth work in concert. Their common efforts would have to be directed to a full investigation of the following sixteen systems of law, the Indian, the Burmese, the Siamese, the Annamitic, the Chinese, the Japanese, the Corean, the Kalmuk, the Kirghiz, the Malayo-Javanese, the Balinese, the Malakay (this I suspect to be a misprint), the Babylonian and Assyrian, the Hebrew, the Egyptian, the Mohammedan, in the order in which they are men- tioned. These numerous systems of law may be arranged in four principal groups, consisting of (1) Indian, (2) Indo-Chinese with Malay, (3) Chinese-Japanese, (4) Semitic. The co-operation of the jurist with the Orientalist would have to take place in this way, that the former would first translate the texts 26 V. Religions of India and Iran as literally as possible. Thereupon, the jurist or ethnologist would have to examine the work done by the Orientalist, and to suggest alterations, both as to the legal phraseology, which would have to agree with the legal terms current among the civiUzed nations of modern Europe, and as to the contents. The philologist would then go back to his work, revising his translation, and supplying annotations to it. The organization of these labours would have to be entrusted to an international committee, with Berlin for its seat. At Berlin there exists the International Society of Comparative Jurisprudence, which might take the lead in this movement. Moreover, says the Italian scholar, the study of ancient Eastern languages flourishes in Grermany to an extent hardly paralleled anywhere else, so that German scholars would be likely to give more help in this matter than those of any other country. This is what Dr. Mazzarella has to say on the question of organization. He does not decide, however, which particular language should be chosen for the proposed translations of Eastern law-books. He seems to think, either that all of them should be in Grerman, or that the translator should be at liberty to choose between English, German, and French. Coming to the financial question, it is suggested that either the learned societies of different European countries should each contribute something towards the expense of printing the translations, or that the governments of these countries should do so. It is pointed out that the surprising development of European colonies in the East, and the equally rapid growth of commercial relations with Eastern nations, render it eminently desirable for Europeans to obtain a better insight into the legal institutions of Eastern countries than has been hitherto possessed by them. Eighteen European states have recently com- bined to defray the heavy expense of taking photographs for a large- sized map of the sky, with a catalogue of stars. Might not a similar coalition take place for the purpose of translating the law-books of the East. Or the great academies and other learned societies of Europe might form an alliance towards the same end. Such are the main points of the remarkable scheme proposed by the Italian jurist, which deserves the attention of students of religion as well as of lawyers and Orientalists. Whether it will be so easy to realize his proposals as he seems to think, is another question. Thus it is by no means certain that the suggested co-operation of Orientalists and jurists would lead to the desired result. A student of Eastern law who does not know Eastern languages, will always feel rather helpless, and it is not likely that he will be able to give any useful advice to an Oriental scholar engaged in the same study. I should say that Dr. Mazzarella has not done sufficient justice to the laborious and somewhat dry but necessary work of learning an ancient language 4. Eastern Law-Books: Jolly 27 and interpreting ancient texts, sifting every passage, and carefully examining every word, before arriving at a final translation. It is not till all this preliminary work has been accomplished, that the student of comparative jurisprudence will get sufficient material to work upon, and will be placed in a position to supply new thoughts and standpoints to the Orientalist, Secondly, it would be very difficult to interest the governments or even the leading learned societies of Europe sufficiently in a scheme of this kind to obtain their support, the expense to be incurred being likely to prove very considerable ; although it must be admitted that those translations of ancient Indian law-books, which have been published here in Oxford, in the Sacred Books of the East, have been a financial success and have sold very well. This brings me to a third point, namely, that those literary produc- tions of ancient Eastern nations, which are connected with their religion, appeal indeed to a very large circle of students, and even to the general reader. If, then, we want to secure the support of out- siders for a work of this kind, we must not overlook the essentially religious character of Eastern law, and must try to obtain the assistance of students of Eastern religions in the first place. Last, but not least, though, being a German myself, I rejoice in Dr. Mazzarella's suggestion that the proposed new undertaking should have its centre in Germany, I cannot help thinking that England, with her vast and manifold interests in the East, would be far fitter than Germany to take the lead in this matter, and that most if not aU of the translations should be written in English. It is a remarkable coincidence, that a scheme closely analogous to that proposed by Mazzarella has recently been started by an Indian law scholar, Govind Das of Benares ; only that his scheme is confined to the department of Indian law. The name of Govind Das is well known to students of Indian law as that of the editor of two important Sanskrit law-books, BdlambJiattl and Vlramitrodaya. His opinion regarding the study and exposition of Indian law is given in a private letter, addressed to myself, of January 22 of the current year ; and it will be hardly considered an indiscretion, I hope, if I try to give you the purport of his views on the subject. Govind Das agrees with Dr. Mazzarella in proposing to establish an international committee or syndicate of experts, to whom the task of expounding Sanskrit law is to be entrusted, and in suggesting the co-operation of Orientalists and students of ancient law. Thus it is his idea that the international committee to be established should have as president myself as a German Sanskritist, with a jurist as joint- editor. The several parts of Indian law are to be divided between the experts, but no single chapter done by any one of these experts 28 V. Religions of India and Iran shall be considered complete, till it has been revised by two other experts, one of whom should always be a Hindu, if possible. Each chapter of the proposed new work on Indian law would, therefore, pass through the hands of three workers in that field, besides those of the joint editors ; which somewhat complicated process would ensure a high degree of exactness and authority for the work resulting from the labours of all these men. First of all, the modern law would be treated in a number of sections, much as has been done in that useful work, the Vyavasiha Chandrika, of the late Shama Charan Sarkar. The principal Sanskrit manuals of law, such as the Mayukha, Vlrami- trodaya, and Balambhattl, might serve as a basis for that part. Each section is to be followed by a commentary, giving a full account of the history of the institutions and legal theories discussed in the section, and of the attitude of the several Indian schools of law towards them. The different doctrines held in these schools of law are mostly based on a difference in interpretation of the early texts on law. It should be indicated in the commentary how far these discrepancies might be reconciled, and what improvements might be suggested from the stand- point of modem law in Europe. Legal procedure, as described in the Sanskrit law-books, would also come in for a separate treatment, but owing to its supersession by modem rules of procedure , it has an historical value only, and may be reserved for an appendix. A work by Greenidge published in Oxford, on Legal Procedure in Rome in the time of Cicero, might serve as a model for this part of the book. It will be seen from the foregoing remarks, that what is intended here is not a mere collection of translations, but a complete cyclopaedia of Indian law. Such a cyclopaedia, of course, would be a very bulky work, consisting of three or four volumes, at least, somewhat similar in size and plan to the vast German cyclopaedias of Eoman law. A work of this description might be expected to meet a want long felt, and to be equally useful and important to the antiquarian, to the student of comparative jurisprudence, to the professional lawyer, and, above all, to the codifier, who would find in it all the materials ready to hand for a codification of what is called the Hindu law. Such legislation, according to Govind Das, is very desirable and necessary, because the old national laws and usages of the people of India are in danger of being swept away by a judge-made law. Govind Pas complains of the ignorance of Sanskrit law which prevails among Indian judges ; and he agrees with Mazzarella in regarding the hitherto existing translations of Sanskrit law-books as unsatisfactory and in- sufficient. These observations of a learned and patriotic Hindu certainly claim more than a passing notice. It is true that they are open to much the same objections as the Italian scheme, though the fact of their belonging 4. Eastern Law-Books : Jolly 29 to a narrower sphere would seem to render their realization far easier. It appears eminently desirable that the proposed encyclopaedia of Indian law should be written, and that Indian and European scholars should join in preparing it. I may now pass to the principal object of my paper. May I take the liberty of directing your attention to a literary undertaking, on which I am myself engaged ? It is a far less ambitious one than the two schemes of which I gave you some account just now. My work is to be called Ancient Law in India. It is to contain a brief history of Indian law, in one volume. As you may gather from the title, it is to be in English. This, in spite of what has been said by Dr. Mazzarella, seems to me the proper language to be used in a work dealing with the old laws and customs of an English dependency, such as India is. The number of those interested in ancient Indian law is not very great, and they live for the most part in England or India. Of course, it is not easy for Germans to write in English, and I shall have to claim the indulgence of my readers for my faulty style. As regards the contents of my work, I need hardly mention that I am not going to enter into competition with the writers of manuals of the Hindu law, as it is administered in the courts of the present day. The modem case law has been frequently treated by a host of distin- guished writers in England and India, down to Dr. Trevelyan, the Reader in Indian Law at this University, whose valuable work on Indian family law has only just been published. Some of these works contain interesting hints on the history of the institutions to which they refer, notably inheritance and adoption ; others are short text-books for the guidance of the practical lawyer. But there is not in existence a single work, in the English language, covering the whole ground of Indian legal history ; though other parts of the history of civilization in India have been treated very fully in English works, e.g. political history, numismatics, art, the history of Sanskrit litera- ture generally, the history of Buddhism, and so on. The highly developed legislation and jurisprudence of the Indian people is quite important and interesting enough in itself, I think, to form the subject of a separate historical treatise. Their laws may be said to possess a special importance and value for the student of religion, because in India law and reUgion are even more closely connected than in other Eastern countries. This wiU appear more clearly, if I try to give you some account of the plan of my work. Turning, then, to the several parts of the Indian law, it seems clear that in an historical book legal procedure should be discussed in the first place. It is impossible to arrive at a real insight into the working of the ancient legal rules in India, without having some knowledge of the Indian law of evidence, and of their judicial procedure. The law 30 v. Religions of India and Iran of evidence includes the administration of ordeals, which were con- sidered one of the principal kinds of evidence. This shows how closely the taking of evidence was connected with religion. The deities were believed to take a prominent part in the proceedings of a court of justice, and to be anxious to establish the guilt or innocence of the parties in a cause, giving as it were a religious sanction to prooeedings- at-law. In the same way the exercise of jurisdiction by the king or his judge was regarded as a sacred function. An offender duly punished was supposed to go to heaven ; one released was thought to throw his own guilt on the king who had pardoned him. We have only to look at the code of Manu, to find that punishment, called danda, was extolled in the most exaggerated manner, and raised to the rank of a deity. In the Sanskrit law-books, as in all primitive legislation, criminal law forms the central part. Though this criminal law, like the native law of evidence, has long been superseded by a penal code of European origin, its historical importance cannot easily be overrated. No doubt it is an iniquitous law, written by Brahmans for Brahmans, and exhibiting in every way their pretensions and arrogance. Thus it is an established principle with these Brahman jurists, that no Brahman shall ever be subject to corporal chastisement. Besides a full penal code, the Sanskrit law-books contain an elaborate system of religious penances for the expiation of sins. These so- called Prayascittas have retained to the present day an important place in the religious and social system of the Hindus, even after the entire disappearance of their criminal law with its barbarous punish- ments. The accurate performance of the prescribed forms of atonement is enforced by caste assemblies, and those who refuse to conform to their dictates are liable to be degraded from their caste. In ancient times punishment for crime seems to have been frequently combined with loss of caste, and the offenders had to perform a penance, in order to obtain readmission into their caste. The family law is closely connected with religious ideas. Thus the entire law of inheritance has been said to be a spiritual bargain, in which the right of succession is made to depend on the due performance of funeral offerings to a deceased ancestor or relative. Adoption, again, is regarded as a religious duty, because it ensures the performance of the obsequies to his father by the adopted son where there is no natural-bom son to perform them. Marriage is viewed as a sacrament, and the husband is said to receive his wife from the gods. In the law of debt we meet with the well-known custom of Sitting in Dharna, which occurs as Acarita or Prat/a in the Sanskrit law-books. Under this custom, a Brahman creditor might compel an obstinate debtor either to pay his debt, or to charge himself with the atrocious 4. Eastern Law-Books: Jolly 31 crime of killing a Brahman. Another essentially religious notion in the Indian law of debt is this, that a recalcitrant debtor will be reborn in his creditor's house as his slave. Here the characteristic Indian doctrine of transmigration comes in. In the title of law which is called Concerns among Partners, the code of Manu has an elaborate discussion of the method of dividing the sacrificial fees between the officiating priests at a sacrifice. So in the rules regarding the rights and constitution of societies, religious corporations are specially considered. These religious castes and brotherhoods were largely endowed by kings and private persons, and the law of religious endowments and perpetuities has, therefore, reached a high stage of development in India. Thus in the title of Resumption of Gifts the gifts meant are principally charitable gifts. These gifts or endowments occur again in the Law of Inheritance as one of the kinds of impartible property, their impartibUity 'arising as much from the fundamental idea of their not being private, as from a desire to maintain the uninterrupted use of the same for private purposes '.^ Royal grants are also mentioned in the Law of Limitation, where it is said that villages thus granted shall not be subject to the ordinary period of prescription. Thus if the villages have been appropriated by a stranger, and have been held by him and his descendants down to the third generation even, the original donee or his descendants may recover them on producing the royal charter by which they were granted. It appears probable that a large portion of the Indian soil had thus become, at an early period, the property of religious institu- tions. Various other gifts to Brahmans, in expiation of an offence com- mitted, such as causing the death of various animals, are mentioned among the Prayascittas, or religious penances. Charity in general is particularly recommended as an atonement for guilt. Thus Gautama mentions divers gifts as one of the means for expiating sinful acts. Manu refers to almsgiving in the same connexion. Apastamba declares charity to be the only mode of expiation open to Sudras, because they may neither read the Veda, nor sacrifice, nor practise austerities. In the introductory chapter of his code, Manu declares charity alone to be the prevailing virtue in the present age of sin, the Kaliyuga. Another lawgiver, Yama, states charity to be the special duty or virtue to be practised by householders. And a third, Vyasa, asserts the charitable man to be the real miser, because he does not leave his wealth even after death, i.e. he derives benefit from his property even in a future world. Mediaeval Sanskrit literature abounds in special treatises on the subject of Danam (charitable gifts), some of them, as ^ See Sarasvati's volume of Tagore Law Lectures on the Hindu Law of Endow- ments, 1897, p. 39, from which some of the following illustrations also have been taken. 32 F". Religions of India and Iran Hemadri's Danakhandam, of vast size. It is true that charity belongs to the religious rather than to the secular law. But, as you all knoWf the line between ecclesiastical and secular law has never been drawn in India, and the law-books, such as the code of Manu, are manuals of religion as well as of law. It is no matter of surprise, therefore, that the religious element, as shown before, makes its appearance even in those parts of the secular law where you would least expect it. For further details I may be allowed to refer you to my book which I hope to publish in Oxford. Let me conclude by briefly referring to the subject of administration, which wUl also be treated in my book. The essentially theocratic character of Indian administration, as described in the Brahmanical codes, is shown by the recommendations to appoint none but Brahmans as ministers and judges, to levy no taxes on Brahmans, to make grants of landed property to them and to inflict capital punishment on the forgers of such grants. Nor were these mere theories, as the course of Indian history shows. Thus under Mahratta rule, which may be designated as a Brahmanical revival, administration had entirely passed into the hands of the Brahmans. FAITH AND REASON IN BUDDHISM By L. db la VALLEE POUSSIN It would be interesting, both from a psychological and historical point of view, to examine the relations of authority and reason, of spontaneous adhesion and critical inquiry — ^let us say of faith and ' libre examen ' — in the founding of beUef and the development of religious doctrines. This matter is most suitable to a Congress held in Oxford ; for no one has treated it with greater genius and more vivid interest than Newman. It deserves the attention also of Indian scholars, for India has much to teach us here as elsewhere. India teaches us that it is rather difficult and arbitrary to distinguish between faith and reason, reason and faith. Firstly, we all know well that tradition, i.e. authority, is a considerable factor in what is gene- rally called reason. Nagarjuna, the great Buddhist doctor, does not argue as Sahkara does ; and if we venture to compare the Orient with the Occident, the Brahman Vamadeo, under the able pen of Sir Alfred Lyall, has given enough hints to enable us to measure what an abyss separates Nagarjuna and Sahkara from Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas, and liant. Principles of evidence are not the same on the rivers 5. Faith and Reason in Buddhism: Poussin 33 Ganga,— Seine, Spfee, and Isis. There is much faith contained in a rationalistic certitude. And, moreover, a believer is not to be found who does not rely also upon reason. You know the Christian saying, 'non crederem nisi viderem esse credendum.' Pascal, who is sometimes styled a mystic, emphatically admits that religion is absurd if it be against reason, and to quote his words, he considers faith as the supreme act of reason, as the climax of the reasonable use of our dialectical powers. In India, Sahkara admits that the Veda, i.e. Upanishads, teach us doctrines which cannot be discovered by human minds ; but these doctrines, when known, convince even the most prejudiced. Scripture, that is, is evident of itself (svatah pramanam), and the school gives faith a place in the very 'cadres' of reason and logic. Thus, if there is much faith in the adhesion to rational truth, there is still more reason and dialectic in the adhesion to revealed truths. I should be glad to have enough time as well as philosophical insight and historical information, to trace in the history of Buddhism the conflicting lines of thought upon the numerous points of doctrine afforded by tradition, and the very exacting, frequently very pecuUar, genius of the various schools. Buddhism offers a favourable field for such an inquiry. We can here examine firstly, let us say, ' in anima vili,' problems which require the exercise of much prudence in the domain of our own belief. I do not say that errors in the interpretation of Buddhistic lore and history are without significance, nor that the ' droit de se tromper ' is to be denied to Christian scholars, provided they do not claim infallibility, or proclaim too emphatically the sound- ness of the so-called scientific method. From another point of view, since Buddhism was at the same time a faith in revealed truths, and a philosophical institution, and since also the Buddhists themselves were lacking in a real strength of mind, there resulted from this a certain complication and confusion of thought and doctrine, which it is the aim of this paper to analyse and explain. The common opinion which has found its way into the manuals, but which depends upon the assertions of such eminent scholars as Edmund Hardy and Professor R. Pischel, is that Buddhism is not a creed ; that a Buddhist's convictions are not based on the authority of the Teacher or of the Book ; and that alone of its kind. Buddhism is an altogether philosophical reUgion. Much can be said, as we shall see, in support of this view. But, in fact, documents and theories point to two conflicting statements : the old Buddhism pretends, and rightly, to be a creed. But it admits the principle of ' libre examen ' ; still more, it considers critical inquiry as the one key to the compre- hension of truth. On the other hand, if Buddhism lays much stress 34 V. Religions of India and Iran on observation and deduction, it states also that intuition, mystic insight, and trances are the only way to ' a right view ' and to salvation. Buddhism is a faith and creed, a respectful and close adhesion to the word of the one Omniscient, who speaks truth and knows by himself. Innumerable are the documents, ancient and modern, which establish this point. According to his disciples Buddha alone knows everything, and he knows especially the truths of salvation which he himself has discovered, understood, and realized, without any external help. Whosoever looks elsewhere for any religious or mundane in- formation is mad. I may here refer to the pleasant story in the Dialogues of Buddha, translated by Rhys Davids, of a certain monk who was anxious to know where the world and elements cease. Aided by his mystic faculties he went up to the heaven of Brahma, the highest god. Brahma, of course, was not able to give him an answer, and rather politely sent him back to Buddha : ' You have a Buddha to question and you come hither ! Go down. Question the Teacher and beheve what he will say.' And the Teacher could not refrain from some irony ; ' You went to Brahma's heaven to get cosmological knowledge, and now you are back at my feet. Just so the sailors have birds to explore the waste: as long as they do not find "terra firma ", so long do they come back to the ship.' The one to be relied upon is the ' teacher of Gods and men ' ; for Brahmans and philosophers see and discuss but fragments of the truth. A king of former days had a clever artifice to show them their ignorance. By his order all those born bhnd in the city were led round an elephant ; whereupon each of them, according to the part of the animal he touched, declared the elephant to be a water-pot (the head), a basket (the ears), a pillar (the legs), a pestle (the tail), &c. The blind men disputed thus, and the allegory is obvious : ' Such are the men said to be clever : they only see one side of the shield.' Human wisdom always falls short in some point. To be saved one must refer to the Omniscient. Faith, according to the Buddhist theory of salvation, is not the highest power or virtue — ^intuition or insight, as we shall see, holds the first rank — ^but it is ' the root of the correct view '. Before medi- tating upon or comprehending truths, it is necessary to hear them and to beheve them. All Buddhists and saints are sons of Buddha because they are born of his word. Even the saints who are styled Pratyekahvddhas (SoHtary Buddhas), who appear during the unfor- tunate periods in which Buddha's law is no more preached and his church has perished, do not, as one might guess, conquer truths by themselves, but have heard the law from some Buddha in one of their former births (Candrakirti). Faith is highly meritorious because the word of the teacher is hard, difficult both to understand and to 5. Faith and Reason in Buddhisvi : Poussin 35 believe. Sakyamuni, as is well known, did not at once resolve to preach the truths he had discovered — ^fearing, it is said, that hi,8 labour would be tedious and vain, or, according to another exegesis, that his revelation would lead to the perdition of those it was intended to save : for 'the Law saves the beUever and destroys the unbeliever'. Faith purifies the soul, suppresses or diminishes concupiscence, doubt, hatred, sloth, and pride, as a miraculous gem purifies turbid water ; owing to faith we can go through the river of existence to the shore of nirvana without fear or danger. Even so, folk who know neither ford nor guide stand helpless on a river's bank ; but Buddha is a ' ford- maker ' (tlrthainkara). He knows everything that is necessary for salvation and all else. He alone is called the Omniscient, the one who knows the nature of everything (sarvakarajiia). In some cases we men can ascertain the truthfulness of his words ; in many others we must say ' I confess that by faith ', or ' Buddha knows and I do not know '. Hence, in Sanskrit Buddhism at least, springs the distinc- tion, very clear, if not always explicitly declared, between the domain of experience or reason and the domain of faith. ' One must meditate and understand those points of doctrine which are intelhgible, one must accept and confess others while saying : " that is within Buddha's reach, not within mine." ' In fact the doctrines andfacts declared to be incomprehensible are numerous. Even according to Candraklrti it is impossible to scrutinize the retribution of acts (the jK^arma-doctrine) without falling into heresy: Buddha has forbidden any inquiry into the matter. The so-caUed Pah school is no less formal in the matter of faith, as is sufficiently proved by the line in the Maha-vamsa (xvii), quoted by Gogerly — evam acintiyS buddha buddhadharma acintiya acintiyesu pasannanam vipako hoti acintiyo. 'The Buddhas are incomprehensible (or beyond conception), the qualities of a Buddha are incomprehensible and the fruits of faith (or love), to those who have faith in these incomprehensibles, are also incomprehensible.' Buddha's word is to be beUeved without inquiry ; even more than this, it is not permissible to adapt it to personal views. The uninterrupted tradition of teachers and disciples ascertains (according to Buddhists, of course) what truly is Buddha's word. In the same way, ' For the understanding of the Law, Buddhas them- selves and Buddha's sons, ^aradvatlputra at the head, give the rule ' (Abhidharmakosa). And the teachers of the Great Vehicle who made anew the doctrine of salvation and preached a confessedly deutero- canonical literature, who could not therefore rely on the literature of the oldest schools, nevertheless maintained that ' every truth in this actual age of the world comes from our Buddha, Sakyamuni ; and in D 2 36 V. Religions of India and Iran the former and latter ages, Buddhas of the past and the future have been and will be the unique lamps of the world. The apocalypses of the Great Vehicle are old, if lately revealed. Sakyamuni himself preached them, if not to men, to gods or goblins. Maitreya, taught by Sakyamuni, and now reigning in the Tushita's heaven, teaches them to illuminated doctors.' And the authorityof Nagarjuna, the supposed founder of the Mahayana school, and almost certainly the chief of the Madhyamikas, depends upon a prophecy of 6akyamuni recorded in the Lahkavatara and elsewhere : ' After five centuries my disciple Ananda (the well-beloved disciple) will be reborn in Southern India. He will be the man called Nagarjuna. He will understand and make others understand the profound and true meaning of my teaching.' Briefly, as expressed by the pious King Asoka, ' All that the Lord Buddha has said is well said.' This formula is old. One finds in the Ahguttara, the most mechanical and least readable of the canonical compilations, one of those pleasant similes which are a comfort to Buddhist scholars. It happened that Indra met some monks and, admiring their discourses, said : ' That is indeed good. How have you learned these excellent things ? From Buddha or by personal insight ? ' The monks replied : 'When one sees folk in the vicinity of a large granary carrying grain, one in a basket, another in his robe, and another in his hands, is it really difficult to guess whence the grain has been taken ? In the same way all that is well spoken, every good word (subhasitam) has been said by the Lord Buddha.' There are many documents to the same purport. They show beyond question that Buddhism is a faith and creed : as declared in the Divyavadana, ' the sky will fall with the moon and stars, earth with its mountains and forests ascend, oceans will be dried up, but the Lords Buddhas speak not wrongly.' But let us note that if it is sometimes possible to ascertain some character or tenet of Buddhism, it is by no means impossible to ascer- tain the contrary. Buddha requires spontaneous adhesion to his word, but he is not satisfied until his disciples recognize, by rational and experimental evidence, the truth of his word. Buddhists are indeed believers and traditionalists, but the history of the schools also shows clearly that they are rationaUsts and modernists. It is well known that carnal desire or kdmaraga is the chief obstacle to the salvation of laymen ; on the contrary the monks often sin by heresy (drsti), and that is worse (Abhidharmakosa). According to the Buddhist school of logic (Nyayabindupurvapaksa : known from Tibetan) there is a saying of Buddha which puts beyond doubt the orthodoxy of the logicians : ' One must not accept my Law from reverence, but first try it as gold is tried by fire.' And the fire of logic is here qualified to point out much syamika! ^akyamuni 5. Faith and Reason in Buddhism : Poussin 37 frequently works miracles, absurd enough sometimes according to our standard ; but he is not in the least an ' extrinsequist ', faith must come from the inside, not from without. Miracles can indeed rejoice and fortify the beUever, but unbelievers will say that they are con- trived by magic. Buddha boasts of not teaching as an authoritative master, as Brah- mans do ; his tenets, he declares, are followed by argument (and Kumarila will prove that this method is highly objectionable, and much can be said in favour of his criticism). Buddha's tenets cannot be distinguished from the proofs which force themselves into the mind and heart of the hearers. In fact Sakyamuni deserves the eulogy he gives himself to his ' miraculous teaching ' ; the true miracles being the miracle of preaching, the demonstrative and converting power of his view of life and salvation. In a great number of the so-called discourses (or rather dialogues), the Master plays the role of a dialec- tician, let us say of a sophist. He rarely assumes the ' prophetic mood'. He has controversies with his disciples, with Brahmans, with the wisest men or chiefs of rival sects. He proceeds by queries and a ' reductio ad absurdum '. He leads his antagonist whither he wishes without enforcing his opinion by any extraneous help, wherefore he has often been compared with Socrates. His standard of truth seems to be the very disposition of his auditor. In a word Buddha aims at a conclusive avowal of spontaneous adhesion. ' If ye now know thus, and see thus, monks, will ye then say : " We respect the Master, and out of reverence for the Master do we thus speak" ?' — ' That we shall not, O sire.' . . . ' What ye speak, O disciples, is it not even that which ye have yourselves known, yourselves seen, yourselves realized ? ' — ' It is, sire.' As Professor H. Oldenberg, from whom I borrow this quotation with many others, excellently observed, ' Buddha does not liberate men but he teaches them how to liberate themselves as he has Uberated himself. Men adhere to his preaching of the truth, not because it comes from him, but because, aroused by his word, a personal know- ledge of what he preaches arises in the light of their minds.' Nevertheless, we cannot help showing contradictions which are essential to an understanding of what Buddhism really is. Sakyamuni has said : ' If, when the Lord is roaring in the assembhes with the roaring of a lion, any one ventures to think or say, " Gautama does not possess any superhuman power, still less insight into absolute truth, his law is built up with and rests upon dialectics, and is accompanied by inquiry or experience, made up of individual surmises"; if any one ventures to think or speak in this way and does not change his mind or his words, he will be thrown into the infernal abysses.' This sophist, or dialectician, sometimes fulminates against un- 38 V. Religions of India and Iran believers, and he possesses as complete a security in controversy as he does in uttering his anathemas, a fact which is not chiefly due to his being conscious of the perfect clearness of his ideas. Adherence is given to his demonstrations, but not primarily because they are logically or experimentally true. We must recognize that Buddhism — i.e. Buddha's institution, points to an exclusively practical end, viz. liberation from desire for the obtaining of liberation from suffering. And if the teacher is sure that) he is right, it is because he knows, by personal experience, the efficacy of his doctrine. During the marvellous night of the Enlightenment, ascending from a low stage of meditation to the highest, Sakyamuni, whilst he understood, in their sequence, suffering, its origin, end, and mode of disappear- ance, was also aware of the progressive elimination of his faculty of desire. The law he reveals and the discipline he recognizes are as true as they are efficacious, since they have been a cause of purification for him himself. In the same way, if disciples believe, this is owing to their .having verified the fact that Gautama Sakyamuni is really ' one free from desire ' (vTtaraga), ' liberated ' (mukta), ' enlightened ' (buddha). When he teaches doctrines — ' difficult to see or grasp, doctrines beyond investigation ' — the Master owes his mastery to his moral fascination. He is pure ; no one, as he himself declares, in a perfectly matter-of-fact fashion and without any pride, can find fault with him. He has mani- festly done away with any root of affection, hatred, or intellectual delusion, which could blind him and make him say ' I see ', when he sees not, or ' I know ', when he knows not. He embodies perfectly the ideal type of ' Freedom from desire '. Therefore he declares truth, being Law incarnate. He has himself been liberated from passion by his law, therefore his law is to be beheved and will free us too. Philo- sophers often maintain that freedom from desire involves omniscience. In any case there is a definition of Buddha's omniscience, given through Brahmanic sources, which should be noted. ' Does Buddha know by name all the insects ? We are not interested in this point. But he knows the truths of salvation.' We touch here a rather important point in the doctrinal develop- ment of Buddhism, one of those ' mouvements toumants ' which can transform the genius of a system without changing its formulas. Formerly it was understood that ' all that Buddha has said is well said '. Buddha is the great granary whence, according to our abihty, we shall take grain with a basket, in our robe, or in our hands. On the other hand the law is, so to speak, estabhshed by internal evidence, and by its usefulness for practical purposes ; it seems therefore to be all the more indisputable. But usefulness and internal evidence — which characterize Buddha's law amidst all other systems — can also be 5. Faith and Reason in Buddhism: J'oussin 39 viewed as criteria of authenticity and rules of exegesis ; and such indeed was the outcome in this case. There are, it is true, comprehensive formulas which are reaUy orthodox, as for instance, ' The weU-said word (subhasita), the word of Buddha, is the word conveyed from teacher to disciple from the beginning — the word to be found in the Discourses, in the disciplinary book, which is not contrary to the truth of salvation.' But often the traditionalist point of view does not remain in the foreground : ' The well-said word is endowed with four characters : well-said, and not iU-said, leading to salvation and not antagonistic to it, agreeable and not disagreeable, true and not false (Suttanipata).' And in a deutero- canonical book ' The teaching of all Buddhas is distinguished by four features ; useful and not harmful, leading to salvation and not contrary to it, abolishing passion and not increasing it, nourishing love of nirvana and not love of existence, . . . any one who thus teaches must be looked upon as a Buddha, as a teacher. Why so ? Because everything well-said has been said by Buddha.' It is the very formula that Asoka had written on rock, that the pious monks had used in reply to Indra : but the meaning is not the same ; nay it is just the contrary. Buddha alone teaches truth, Buddha is always truthful, therefore anything true is Buddha's word, what seems to us to be good and true, that same is Buddha's word. Tradition can be erroneous, but internal evidence gives us the key to ascertain what really has been said and how that must be understood. This manner of settling doctrinal problems is not so precisely worded in the Little Vehicle's literature, but it is ancient and well agrees with the general aspect of the Good Law. Buddha's institute is not a darsana, a philosophical system, but a yana, a vehicle, or marga, a road to salvation, a method leading to nirvana, a therapeutic of desire, i.e. of the sole obstacle to nirvana. The teacher who is often styled the Great Physician, has no objection to employing, according to the case, remedies of every kind, i.e. contradictory statements on the 'thing in itself', on the ego, and on nirvana. It is not certain even that he has said all within his knowledge on these obscure questions ; nay, we are frequently cautioned by him that his sayings must not be taken literally, but according to the intention. Hence sprang the principle of the ' twofold teaching ', a principle which opened a way among Buddhists and Buddhist scholars for far-reaching diversity of views. Every one has a right to make, out of the rich Buddhistic lore, any system which he may believe the more appropriate to the end, the more reasonable or probable. Let us not forget that a therapeutic is necessarily prag- matic or utilitarian. Concerning the road of salvation, for instance, Sakyamuni designed an excellent method of meditative and virtuous life, rather independent of metaphysical tenets. But it cannot, at 40 V. Religions of India and Iran the same time, be denied that all the rules of living, all the meta- physical theories, all the trances which diminish desire and develop dislike for exisLence, are useful ; they agree with Buddha's design, they are in conformity with the truth of salvation ; therefore they have been preached by Buddha — and the Buddhist Tantrikas, really Saktas or Sivaites, had some rights tg a claim of orthodoxy. It is asked then : What really is the meaning of such and such a phrase in the Scriptures? Evidently it is not permissible to 'stop at the letter or at the syllables', as do the unintelligent who content themselves with reading Sutras and hope to obtain salvation by pure repetition — ancestors indeed of the Tibetans who have prayer-wheels moved by the wind. HI understood, the Law kills, as a serpent does when wrongly grasped. One must penetrate the text and comprehend not only the meaning of the words but the intention of the teacher too. In this task caution is necessary. The wording ought to be respected. It is a sin to accuse a preacher of putting away literal knowledge, of adhering to the letter or adapting it according to the ease, of destroying some Sutra by another Sutra, or some stanza by another stanza. Such methods of inquiry have a flavour of heterodoxy, and it is forbidden to accuse one's neighbour of heterodoxy whether rightly or wrongly. Accordingly, the letter of the Scripture must be respected. But Buddha himself has enforced the duty of understand- ing the law ; he has said that the ' resource ' is to be found in the meaning, not in the wording, and that there are some Sutras with a perfect, categorical, and explicit meaning, and others imperfect, spoken only with a particular or temporary purpose. How, then, are we to distinguish them ? Tradition and context can of course be decisive ; but here the standard of truth is not the authority of any individual but the Dharma, the Law, the truth of salvation or, according to another source, the logical fitness or rational evidence. ' One must not rely upon any one's opinion ; nor say. Such is the opinion of a presbyter (sthavira), of Buddha, or of the Church ; one must not abandon truth in itself ; one must be autonomous ' (Bodhi- sattvabhumi). Autonomous ? But is not this equivalent to saying that we could substitute our own personal views for the doctrines taught by Buddha and worked out by the Church ? That would be heresy — ^not an altogether capital sin — and schism, the crime of Deva- datta, more heinous perhaps than his efforts to murder the teacher ; we should be like the sceptical monk condemned by Buddha : ' With his thoughts full of desire doth he boast of surpassing the teacher ? ' If it is, necessary to be autonomous and to rely only upon truth, and not upon the word of any individual, it is because a choice must be made among contradictory statements. This choice will practically, appear to be enforced by tradition or by Buddha himself. There are. 5. Faith and Reason in Buddhism : Poussin 41 in fact, scriptural declarations for ascertaining the relative value, or even denying the authenticity, of some parts of the Scriptures : ' Some monks piously give their hearing and adhesion to texts made by poets, poetical, literary, exoteric, promulgated by disciples , , . which lead to the neglect of the texts promulgated by Buddha, profound in meaning, supramundane, treating of the doctrine of the void or nothingness.' There is no need to say that the advocates of the poetical and exoteric books, who find fault with the doctrine of the void, will not admit such statements as authentic. As a matter of fact one rarely meets, in the controversial literature, disputes concerning the authenticity of the texts alluded to by the doctors ; but such modera- tion may be due to the controversial rule that arguments must be admitted by the antagonist, if any success is to be won. Thus we read sometimes that this or that text is common to the traditions of aU sects. The autonomy of the disciple is to be understood from another point of view. There are texts enough praising the merit of faith, and scholastic hsts have a class of saints ' who are liberated by faith '. But, on the whole, pious adhesion to the sacred word is said to be of no avail. Necessary indeed as the gate of salvation, faith alone is not sufficient. To ' possess ' truth, to make truth ours and to be trans- formed by tirath, an autonomous, free, and deliberate conviction is wanted that does not rely upon others. Intellectual assent stiU more will not do. Holiness cannot be conquered by purely intellectual processes. The ' resource ' is not mjnana, discursive intelligence, but jnana, insight or intuition ; and this, not because jnana discovers new truths or new aspects of truth believed and understood, but because the aim of the Buddhist discipline is essentially practical. An example will make that clear. Whosoever understands the ' truth of sufEering ' under its fourfold aspect will acknowledge the falsehood of vulgar notions, and will see pleasure and existence as transitory and painful ; but he wiU not destroy his innate desire of pleasure, his thirst after existence. What is to be gained is a profound and efficacious feeling of the miseries of life, of the impurity of the body, of universal nothingness, to such a degree that the ascetic should see a woman as she really is, as a skeleton furnished with nerves and flesh, as an illusion made up of carnal desire. Mind will thus be freed from love, hatred, and from every passion. Thirst for sensual pleasures being eradicated, there remains thirst after existence and thirst after non- existence, both implying a contradiction to the supreme quietude which leads to nirvana, and is nirvana itself. It is evident that, to extinguish the fire of desire, one must extirpate the very idea of being and of non-being, and that for such a task intellectual knowledge is 42 V. Religions of India and Iran only a preliminary. As it destroys wrong ideas about self and suffering, or rather as it shows the falseness of these wrong ideas, the view (darsana) of the noble truths is styled ' conversion ' or ' access to the path '. But. the superior degrees of wisdom up to Arhatship or holi- ness can only be reached by ' meditation,' ' absorptions,' ' trances,' 'concentrations' (samadhi, dhyana, samapatti), by a very intricate system of Yoga, where much stress is laid on hypnotical ' recettes '. In such exercises intelligible notions fall into the background. The chief characteristics of Buddhism have their origin or, to be more accurate, their explanation in its being a therapeutic, a method with a practical end (passionlessness), with practical ways thereto, including coma and ' looking at the nose end '. Thus we can account for contradictions otherwise inexplicable. Buddhism is contradiction itself. It adheres to the Brahmanical dogma of Karman (retribution of acts in a future birth), but doubts or denies the existence of a soul, without which a retribution of acts is not only ' beyond conception ' but even absurd. It teaches that Buddha is a teacher merely, and can only help his fellow men by preaching ; nevertheless it describes the strength of benevolence through which Buddha converts whom he wiU. It affirms that a man reaps as he has sown, but enforces the rule of giving charities for the welfare of the dead. It could not forget that Sakyamuni had been a man, but nevertheless endowed him with every attribute of the supreme divinity. And we have seen that it has been no happier in making out a comprehensive theory of the relations between faith, reason, and intuition. It is easy, and by no means inexact, to say that Buddhists are wanting in that strength of mind which results in the co-ordination of views. One might say that Buddhists have pondered and deliberated upon a number of conflicting, clever, often profound, theoretical views borrowed from all sides, or discovered by themselves ; one might also add the observation that they had neither Aristotle nor Descartes as teachers, but the paradoxical authors of the Upanishads, the masters of Yoga, and this perplexing Sakyamuni, whose monstrous jest, ' Everything is void,' has proved so disastrous. He was, nevertheless, a very great man. But, on the whole, to do justice to Buddhism, let us note that the contradictions are confined (Tantrism, of course, being set on one side) to the ideological domain, and do open out many practical roads to nirvana ; for where principles are antagonistic, practices can be super- imposed and co-ordinated. Mystics sink into non-intellectual medita- tions and happily reach the end. Eationalists, by dialectical processes, reduce the soul and universe to a void, and are ' liberated ' from existence through the conviction of nothingness. The simple of heart 5. Faith and Reason in Buddhism: J*oussin 43 simply believe in the word of Buddha, in his qualities, in his miraculous power of salvation, and ' belief in the incomprehensibles brings to them incomprehensible fruits'. All obtain calm, 'desirelessness' (vitara- gatva), i.e. nirvana here and hereafter. And I doubt if there is a Buddhist, I mean an enlightened one, who is not something of a mystic, of a rationaUst, and of a believer. 6 KNOWLEDGE AND INTUITION IN BUDDHISM By C. a. r. RHYS DAVIDS. (Abstract) In formulating their rejection of Atmanism, the early Buddhists made use of one of several current classifications of bodily and mental constituents, to wit, the fivefold skandha theory. This is put forward as an exhaustive division of the human being considered as a unit in the universe of sense-experience, and it is held to be logically incom- patible with any theory of a co-inhering atman as at that time con- ceived. Their theory of knowledge based on the skandha doctrine is Sensationahstic or ExperientiaHst. And from their standpoint of rehgious values the skandhas were rated very low indeed. On the other hand, the Intuitionist or Bationahst element of cogni- tion, represented elsewhere by concepts of rums, inteUectus, reason, prajna, or other variously conceived activities of the Psyche or Atman, is retained and upheld by the Buddhists in their concept of paiiiia. This term, defined in the Abhidhamma Pitaka by its synonyms and metaphors, is, in the Digha Nikaya, resolved into several modes of intuition or insight. And from their standpoint of religious values, it stands supreme as the highest function of the human intelhgence, while its nidus — the soul — ^was cut from under it. How did they relate it to the doctrine of knowledge by way of skandha function ? The Canon and the Visuddhi Magga reveal no consciousness of antinomy, but a varying effort to classify farina under one of the skandhas. In the Sutta Pitaka it is alHed to the vihnanak- hhandha. In the Abhidhamma it is placed under the skandha of sankharas; and the Katha Vatthu refutes a heretical theory which would have classed one mode of fanna — the Dibba-Cakkhu or Heavenly- Eye — under the rupakkhandha. The maturer thought of Buddha- ghosa's day (fifth centuryA.D.) regarded the sannakkhandha, the vinnanak- khandha and panna, as, respectively, simple and more complex modes of human intellection. 44 V. Religions of India and Iran It is possible that the last-named view was a just interpretation of the older view. Like Christianity, Buddhism was a doctrine of Regenera- tion, in which a ' new life ' involved the ' putting on ' of a new mind. The skandha theory was concerned with the factors of human intelli- gence viewed as a product of, and engaged upon, this world of sense- experience. But for those whose faces were set towards the highest, there was needed an evolutionary classification of faculties expanding under the influence of fresh ideals and altered training. The regenerate were, as Sariputta said, to analyse vinnana, but to cultivate panna. The static concept of the Five Aggregates (Khandha) was superseded by a dynamic nomenclature of faculty, force, potency, method, paths, summed up in the Thirty-seven Bodhipakkhiya Dhammas, or conditions appertaining to Enlightenment. Buddhism, as one exponent among many, of the ascetic traditions of India and the world, might deprecate the content and activities of sense-cognition. But its logic, in correlating a dis-atmanized panria with the despised skandhas, reveals the latent conviction that in the evolution and expansion of sense-born cognition stood the ladder by which mankind had slowly climbed to the wider view. THE MONOTHEISTIC RELIGION OF ANCIENT INDIA, AND ITS DESCENDANT THE MODERN HINDU DOCTRINE OF FAITH By G. a. GRIERSON. (Abstract) Two views are current at the present day regarding modern Hinduism. According to some it is pantheism, with no personal God, and with a salvation consisting in absorption and loss of identity in the Pantheos. According to others it is a mixture of polytheism and fetishism . Neither of these is an accurate description. Pantheism is professed only by a few learned men. The polytheism and fetishism exist, but they are an external surface superstition concealing the religion really believed. Nearly all modern Hindus are either Shivites or Vishnuites. The latter are in the great majority. There are at least 150 millions of them. The present paper deals only with Vishnuites, and when the Hindu religion is mentioned, it is to be understood as referring only to their form of belief. The worship of Siva is not touched. Vishnuism is essentially a monotheistic religion. We find traces of monotheism in the Vedas, but they soon disappear 7. Monotheism in India: Grier^on 45 from Brahmanical literature, an Also in the Aitareya a bull to Visvakarman. The details vary ; cf. Friedlan- der, op. cit., p. 30. '^ Adonis, Attis, Osiris \ pp. 242 sq. For the Aegis, cf. Parnell, op. cit., i. 100 ; for the peculiar magic potentialities of the tail — as the home of the vegetation spirit— cf. IVazer, Oolden Bough, i. 408 ; ii. 3, 42 ; Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals, pp. 246, 247. ' For other examples of this idea in Vedic reUgion, of. J. R A. S., 1907, pp. 938 sq. 9. TJie Vedic Mahdvrata: Keith 57 At one point in the ceremony, the king, or a Rajput, mounted his chariot and driving round the Vedi pierced the skin with three arrows, taking care, however, that he left the arrows sticking in the skin. The exact meaning of the ritual is by no means clear. It may be compared with the Lapp ritual ; ^ after slaying a bear — with ceremonies intended to deprecate the wrath of the ghost and of the bear tribe — they hung its skin on a post and women blindfolded shot arrows at it ; a custom cited by Dr. Frazer in illustration of the myth of the death of Balder and the blindness of Hoder, who slew him. But the parallel is hardly close or cogent in the present case. There is no element of blindness ; the archer is the best bowman available, and the skin is nowhere stated to have been that of one of the sacrificial animals ; on the contrary it is described by Apastamba^ as a 'dry' skin ; and further there is absolutely no trace in the ritual as preserved of any treatment of the animal as other than a mere sacrificial victim under the ' gift ' theory of sacrifice, which notoriously is the only one accepted by the Brahmanic texts.^ If, therefore, there were ever in the rite a vegetation- spirit, it has left no trace on the Brahmanical working over of the ritual. Nevertheless the rite remains difiicult to explain conclusively. The bow and the three arrows remind us of the ritual of the Rajasuya,* in which the king shoots three arrows at the princes of his family as a token of his superiority. The similarity of the practices suggests that the action is hostile rather than an act of sympathetic magic ; other- wise we might have compared the shooting of the arrows with the custom of the Ojibways in firing fire-tipped arrows to rekindle the expiring light of the sun in eclipse, or the practice of throwing blazing discs shaped like suns in the air in the midsummer rites .^ But there is no hint here of fire-tipped arrows, and it is probably simplest and best to consider that the arrows are used to pierce the sky and bring down the rain. The round shape of the target can hardly be used against that view, for, though round — and therefore so far like the sun — ^it is not claimed to have been white, nor is even its roundness men- tioned in most of the authorities. Nor indeed is there any difiiculty in regarding the sky as circular, since even in the Rgveda it is compared to a wheel and to a bowl, while the earth itself, its counterpart, is described as circular.* The question, however, still remains, why the arrows are not allowed to go right through the skin ; and the most ' Frazer, op. cit., ii. 360, n. 3. ' CSted in Sayana on Aitareya Aranyaka, v. 1, 5. ' Cf. Caland and Henry, op. cit., App. iii. * Hillebrandt, Vedische Opfer wnd Zavher, p. 145. ' Frazer, Golden Bough, 1. 22 ; ii. 268. ' Macdonell, Vedic Mythology, p. 9. 58 V, Religions of India and Iran plausible answer is perhaps that it was desired to keep open the rents in order that the rain might continue to fall, just as a hunter might desire that his arrow should remain fixed in the body of his prey, draining it of blood and strength. So far then the ritual shows itself compounded of fire and water spells, and consistently its end is marked by both characteristics ; for the Aitareya^ tells us that the swing is carried away for a ceremonial bath, and the material of the seats of the officiating priests is burnt. The former bathing is clearly a rain spell, and as the swing represents the sun, we may if we like press the rite to yield a symbolism of the union of sun and rain ; the burning is to be compared with the bonfires and illuminations found alike on Christmas day ^ and at Midsummer. Comparatively little of the old sacrificial ritual has survived to the present day in India ; but it is not uninteresting to note that in the worship of Krsna, who unites, it seems most probable, in himself the attributes of sun-god (Visnu) and a vegetation-spirit, perhaps non- Aryan, are found, on January 12 and 13, rites which include sun and fertility magic ; and that later, on the 14th of the light half of Phalguna takes place a dolayatra, in which the image of Krsna is swung to and fro.^ Moreover, in Southern India — ^long the chief home of Brahmanism ^— in January, when the sun enters the tropic of Capricorn, there is celebrated the feast of Pongol, in which bonfires are made in every street and lane, and young people leap over the fire or pile on fresh fuel. The fire is an offering to Surya or to Agni (the identification is parallel with that of Aditya and Agni in the Mahavrata) and is purposed to awake him to gladden the earth with his heat and light.* The parallel to the Mahavrata is striking. The solemn dance of the maidens round the fire is a substitute for the less formal leap over the fixe, and leaves little doubt that in the Mahavrata we have no priestly transfer to another season of a midsummer rite, but a genuine adoption in the Brahmanical ritual of a midwinter rite essentially popular. Nor indeed is it likely that a rite so important as to force the Brahmins to admit women as participators and actors in it could have been arti- ficially altered in date. ' V. 3, 2. ^ Prazer, Adonis, Attis, Osiris ^ pp. 254 sq. ' Cf. Wilson, Works, ii. 216 sq. ; 225 sq. * Glover, J. B. A. 8., 1870, pp. 96 sq. 10 THE METAPHYSICS AND ETHICS OF THE JAINAS By H. JACOBI All who approach Jain philosophy will be under the impression that it is a mass of philosophical tenets not upheld by one central idea> and they will wonder what could have given currency to what appears to us an unsystematical system. I myself have held, and given expression to, this opinion, but I have now learned to look at Jain philosophy in a different light. It has, I think, a metaphysical basis of its own, which secured it a distinct position apart from the rival systems both of the Brahmans and of the Buddhists. This is the subject on which I would engage your attention for a short space of time. Jainism, at least in its final form, which was given it by its last prophet the twenty-fourth Tlrthakara Mahav&a, took its rise, as is well known, in that part of Eastern India where in an earlier period, according to the Upanisads, Yajnavalkya had taught the doctrine of Brahman and Atman, as the permanent and absolute Being, and where Mahavira's contemporary and rival, Gotama the Buddha, was preaching his Law, which insisted on the transitoriness of all things. Jainism, therefore, had to take a definite position with reference to each of these mutually exclusive doctrines ; and these it will be neces- sary to define more explicitly. The one great Truth which the authors of the Upanisads thought to have discovered, and which they are never weary of exalting, is that, underljdng and upholding from within all things, physical as well as psychical, there is one absolute permanent Being, without change and with none other like it. The relation between this absolute Being and existent matter has not clearly been made out by the authors of the Upanisads, but all unprejudiced readers will agree that they looked on the phenomenal world as real. On this point the different schools of Vedantins arrived at different conclusions, which, however, need not detain us here. In opposition to this Brahmanical doctrine of absolute and per- manent Being, Buddha taught that all things are transitory ; indeed his dying words were, that all things that are produced must perish. The principal heresy, according to the Buddhists, is the Atmavada, i. e. the belief that permanent Being is at the bottom of all things ; they are, as we should say, but phenomena, or as Buddha expressed 60 V, Religions of India and Iran it, dharmas ; there is no dharmin, no permanent substance of whicli the dharmas could be said to be attributes. Thus the Brahmans and the Buddhists entertained opposite opinions on the problem of Being because they approached it from two different poiats of view. The Brahmans exclusively followed the dictates of pure reason which forces us to regard Being as permanent, absolute, and uniform ; the Buddhists, on the other hand, were just as one- sided in following the teaching of common experience according to which existence is but a succession of originating and perishing. Either view, the a 'priori view of the Brahmans, and the a 'posteriori view of the Buddhists, is beset with many difficulties when we are called upon to employ it in explanation of the state of things as presented to us by our consciousness ; difficulties which cannot be overcome without a strong faith in. the paramount truth of the principle adopted. The position taken by the Jainas towards the problem of Being is as follows. Being, they contend, is joined to production, con- tinuation, and destruction {sad utpada-dhrawvya-vi'nasa-yuktam), and they call their theory the theory of indefiniteness [anekantavada), in contradistinction to the theory of permanency {nityavada) of the Vedantists, and to the theory of transitoriness (vinasavada) of the Buddhists. Their opinion comes to this. Existing things are per- manent only as regards their substance, but their accidents or quaHties originate and perish. To explain : any material thing continues for ever to exist as matter ; which matter, however, may assume any shape and quality. Thus clay as substance may be regarded a& permanent, but the form of a jar of clay, or its colour, may come into existence and perish. The Jain theory of Being appears thus to be merely the statement of the common-sense view, and it would be hard to believe that great importance was attached to it. Still it is regarded as the metaphysical basis of their philosophy. Its significance comes out more clearly when we regard it in relation to the doctrines of Syadvada, and of the Nayas. Syadvada is frequently used as a synonym of Jainapravacaiia (e.g. at a later date in the title of a well-known exposition of the Jain philosophy entitled Syadvada-Manjarl) ; and it is much boasted of as the saving truth leading out of the labyrinth of sophisms. The idea underlying the Syadvada is briefly this. Since the nature of Being is intrinsically indefinite and made up of the contradictory attributes of originating, continuance, and perishing,^ any proposition about an existing thing must, somehow, reflect the indefiniteness of Being, i.e. any metaphysical proposition is right from one point of view, and the contrary proposition is also right from another. There 10. Jain Metaphydcs and Ethics: Jacobi 61 are, according to this doctrine, seven forms of metaphysical proposi- tions, and all contain the word syat, e.g. syad asti sarvam, syad nasti sarvam. Syat means ' may be ', and is explained by kathamcit, which in this connexion may be translated ' somehow '. The word syat here qualifies the word asti, and indicates the indefiniteness of Being (or astitvam). For example, we say, a jar is somehow, i.e. it exists, if we mean thereby that it exists as a jar ; but it does not exist some- how, if we mean thereby that it exists as a cloth or the like. The purpose of these seeming truisms is to guard against the assump- tion made by the Vedantins that Being is one without a second, the same in all things. Thus we have the correlative predicates ' is ' [asti) and ' is not ' {nasti). A third predicate is ' inexpressible ' [avaktavya) ; for existent and non-existent {sat and asat) belong to the same thing at the same time, and such a coexistence of mutually contradictory attributes cannot be expressed by any word in the language. These three predicates variously combined make up the seven propositions or saptabhangas of the Syadvada. I shall not abuse your patience by discussing this doctrine at length ; it is enough to have shown that it is an outcome of the theory of indefiniteness of Being {anekantavada), and to have reminded you that the Jainas believe the Syadvada to be the key to the solution of all metaphysical questions. The doctrine of the Nayas which I mentioned before is, as it were, the logical complement to the Syadvada. The nayas are ways of expressing the nature of things : all these ways of judgement are, according to the Jainas, one-sided, and they contain but a part of the truth. There are seven nayas, four referring to concepts, and three to words. The reason for this variety is that Being is not simple, as the Vedantins believe, but is of a compUcated nature ; therefore, every statement and every denotation of a thing is necessarily incomplete and one-sided ; and if we follow one way only of expression or of viewing things, we needs must go astray. There is nothing in all this which sounds deeply speculative ; on the contrary, the Jain theory of Being seems to be a vindication of common-sense against the paradoxical speculations of the Upanisads. It is also, but not primarily, directed against the Buddhistic tenet of the transitoriness of all that exists. We cannot, however, say that it expressly and consciously combats the Buddhistic view, or that it was formulated in order to combat it. And this agrees well with the historical facts, that Mahavira came long after the original Upani- sads, but was a contemporary of Buddha. He was obliged, therefore, to frame his system so as to exclude the principles of Brahmanical speculation, but his position was a different one with regard to the newly proclaimed system of Buddha. 62 V, Religions of India and Iran I have not yet touched on the relation between Jain philosophy on the one hand and Sankhya-Yoga on the other. We may expect a greater community of ideas between these systems, since both originated in the same class of religious men, viz. the ascetics known as the Sramanas, or, to use the more modern term, Yogins. As regards the practice of asceticism, the methods and the aim of Yoga, it has long been proved that the Yoga of Brahmans, Jainas, and Bauddhas are closely related to each other, and there can be no doubt that they have all developed from the same source. But I am now concerned only with those philosophical ideas which have a connexion with ascetic practice and form the justification thereof. Now the Sankhya view as to the problem of Being is clearly a kind of compromise between the theory of the Upanisads and what we may call the common-sense view. The Sankhyas adopt the former with regard to the souls or purv^as which are permanent and without change. They adopt the latter when assigning to matter or Prakrti its character of unceasing change. The Sankhyas contend that all things besides the souls or furusas are products of the one Prakrti or primaeval matter, and similarly the Jainas teach that practically all things besides the souls or jivas are made up of matter or pudgcda, which is of only one kind and is able to develop into everything. It will thus be seen that the Sankhyas and Jainas are at one with regard to the nature of matter ; in their opinion matter is something which may become anything. This opinion, it may be remarked, seems to be the most primitive one ; not only was it entertained by the ancients, but also it underlies the universal belief of transformation occurring in the natural course of things or produced by sorcery and spells. This is a point I wish to make, that the Sankhyas and Jainas started from the same conception of matter, but worked it out on different lines. The Sankhyas teach that the products of Prakrti are evolved in a fixed order, from the most subtle and spiritual one (Buddhi) down to the gross elements, and this order is always reproduced in the successive creations and dissolutions of the world. The Jainas, on the other hand, do not admit such a fixed order of development of matter (pudgala), but believe that the universe is eternal and of a permanent structure. According to them matter is atomic, and all material changes are really going on in the atoms and their com- binations. A curious feature of their atomic theory is that the atoms are either in a gross condition or in a subtle one, and that innumerable subtle atoms take up the space of one gross atom. The bearing of this theory on their psychology I shall now proceed to point out. But I must premise that the Jainas do not recognize a psychical apparatus of such a complex nature as the Sankhyas in their tenet concerning Buddhi, Ahamkara, Manas, and the Indriyas. The Jaina 10. Jain Metaphysics and Ethics: Jacohi 63 opinion is much cruder, and comes briefly to this. According to the merit or demerit of a person, atoms of a peculiar subtle form, which we will call karma matter, invade his soul or jlva, filHng and defiling it, and obstructing its innate faculties. The Jainas are quite out- spoken on this point, and explicitly say that karman is made up of matter, paudgalikam karma. This must be understood literally, not as a metaphor, as will be seen from the following illustrations. The soul or jiva is extremely light, and by itself it has a tendency to move upwards (urdhvagaurava), but it is kept down by the karma matter with which it is filled. But when it is entirely purged of karma matter, at Nirvana, it goes upwards in a straight line to the top of the universe, the domicile of the released souls. To take another example. The karma matter within a soul may assume different conditions. It may be turbulent, as mud in water which is being stirred ; or it may be inactive, as mud in water when it has settled at the bottom of a basin ; or it may be completely neutralized as when the clear water is poured off after the mud has been precipitated. Here again it is evident that karma is regarded as a substance or matter, though of an infinitely more subtle nature than the impurities of water referred to in the illustration. As a third instance I will refer to the six Lesyas or complexions of the souls, ranging from deepest black to shining white, colours which we common mortals cannot perceive with our eyes. This doctrine was shared also by the Ajivikas, on whom Dr. Hoernle^ has thrown so much light. These colours of the soul are produced on it by the karman which acts as a colouring substance. Here also the material nature of karman is quite obvious. To return from this digression, the karma matter that enters the soul is transformed into eight different kinds of karman, about which I shall have to say a word presently. This change of the one sub- stance into eight varieties of karman is likened to the transformation of food consumed at one meal into the several fluids of the body. The karma matter thus transformed and assimilated builds up a subtle body, which invests the soul and accompanies it on all its transmigrations, till it enters Nirvana and goes up to the top of the universe. This subtle body or harmanasartra is obviously the Jain counterpart of the siiksmasarira or lingasarlra of the Sankhyas.^ In order to understand the functions of this subtle body or karmanasarira, we must take a summary view of the eight kinds of karman of which it is composed. The first and second (jnanavarantya and darsa- navaranlya) obstruct knowledge and faith, which are innate faculties of the soul or jlva ; the third (mohaniya) causes delusion, especially * Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, vol. i. pp. 259 sq. ' The Jainafi recognize four different subtle bodies ; see Tattvdrth., ii. 37 sq. 64 /^. Religions of India and Iran the affections and passions ; the fourth (vedanlya) results in pleasure and pain ; the fifth (ayuska) assigns the length of life to the person in his present birth ; the sixth (nSma) furnishes him with all that belongs to him as an individual ; the seventh (gotra) makes him a member of the class or genus which he is to belong to ; the eighth (antaraya) produces hindrances to the realization of his virtues and powers. Each of these eight kinds of karman endures for a certain period, of varying length, within which it must take its proper effect. Then it is expelled from the soul, a process which is called nirjara. The opposite process, the influx of karman into the soul, is called Osrava, a term well known to students of Buddhism. The occasions for asrava are the actions of the body and mind {yoga) ; they open as it were an inlet for karma matter to invade the soul. If that soul is in a state of iniquity, i.e. if the person under consideration does not possess right faith, or does not keep the commandments (wata), or is careless in his conduct, or does not subdue his passions, then, in all these cases, singly or collectively, especially under the influence of the passions, the soul must retain the karma matter, or, as the Jainas say, binds it (bandha). But the influx of karma matter or asrava can be prevented ; this is called the stopping or samvara. These primitive notions the Jainas have worked out into a philo- sophical superstructure, which serves just as well as that of the Sankhyas (but on different lines) to explain the problems of mundane existence and to teach the way of salvation. In order to make this clear I must add a few more details. Samvara is effected, i.e. the influx of karma is prevented, by the observance of peculiar rules of conduct, by restraint of body, speech, and mind, by strict morality, by religious reflections, by indifference to things pleasant or unpleasant, &c. The most effective means, however, is the practice of austerities (tapas), which has this advantage over the other means, that it not only prevents karma from accumu- lating, but also consumes the accumulated karma. Tapas, therefore, produces also nirjara and leads to Nirvana ; it is the chief means of salvation, as might be expected in a religion of ascetics. The denotation of the word ' tapas ' in Jainism is somewhat different from its usual meaning. There is tapas of the body (bahya tapas) and tapas of the mind [abhyantara tapas). The former consists in fasting, or eating scanty and tasteless food, in want of comfort and in mortification of the flesh. The mental tapas contains various items, as confession of sins and penance, monastic duties, obedience, modesty, self-restraint and meditation (dhyana). I wish to lay stress on the fact that in the course of asceticism taught by the Jainas meditation is only one of many steps leading to the ultimate goal. Though Nirvana is immediately preceded by the two purest stages 10, Jain Metaphysics and Ethics: Jacobi 65 of meditation, yet all other parts of tapas appear of equal importance. We shall see the significance of this fact more clearly, when we com- pare the Jaina tapas with what corresponds to it in Sankhya-Yoga. Their Yoga contains some of the varieties of Jaina tapas ; but they are regarded as inferior to meditation or contemplation. Indeed the whole Yoga centres in contemplation ; all other ascetic practices are subordinate and subservient to contemplation — dharana, dhyana and samadhi. This is but natural in a system which makes the reaching of the summum honum dependent on jnana, knowledge. The theory of the evolution of Prakrti, beginning with Buddhi, Ahamkara, and Manas, appears, to my mind, to have been invented in order to explain the efiiciency of contemplation for acquiring supernatural powers and for liberating the soul. Sankhya-Yoga is a philosophical system of ascetics ; but their asceticism has been much refined and has become spiritualized in a high degree. The asceticism of the Jainas is of a more original character ; it chiefly aims at the purging of the soul from the impurities of karman. Jainism may have refined the asceti- cism then current in India ; it certainly rejected many extravagances, such as the voluntary inflicting of pains ; but it did not alter its character as a whole. It perpetuated an older or more original phase of asceticism than the Brahmanical Yoga, and carries us back to an older stratum of religious life in which we can still detect relics of primitive speculation in the shape of such crude notions as I have had occasion to mention in the course of my paper. In conclusion I shall shortly touch on the third current of Indian philosophical speculation, viz. the philosophy of the Pandits which is represented to us by the Nyaya and Vaisesika systems. This philosophy may be characterized as an attempt to register, to define, and to arrange in systematic order the concepts and general notions which are the common possession of all who spoke the Sanskrit language. Such a philosophy had some attraction for the Jainas who, as we have seen, always sided with common-sense views, and in fact many Jainas have written on Nyaya and Vaisesika. But at the time when the Jain system was framed, the Pandit, as we know him in later times, had probably not yet become distinguished from the Vedic scholar or theologian ; it is almost certain that there was as yet no class of persons who could be called Pandits, and consequently their philosophy also was wanting. And the tradition of the Jainas themselves says as much ; for according to them the Vaisesika system was founded by Chaluya Rohagutta, originally a Jaina and pupil of Mahagiri, eighth Sthavira after Mahavlra. Thus we have no occasion to inquire into the relation between this system and Jainism. But it may be mentioned that the atomic theory which is a marked feature of the Vaisesika, is already taught in outline by the Jainas. 66 V. Religions of India and Iran As regards the Nyaya system, it is almost certainly later than Jainism ; for the dialectics and logic of the Jainas are of a very primitive character, and appear entirely unconnected with the greatly advanced doctrines of the Naiyayikas. In conclusion let me assert my conviction that Jainism is an original system, quite distinct and independent from all others ; and that, therefore, it is of great importance for the study of philosophical thought and religious life in ancient India. 11 ExTKAiT de I'Etude de M. H. Cameelynck sur le Nirvana. — ^Au commencement du xix^ siecle des traducteurs franfais ont cru que le mot Nirvana, dont la racine signifie extinction, par exemple, d'un feu ou d'une lumiere, avait pour objet d'enseigner le materialisme. lis ont 6te jusqu'^ ecrire que le Bouddhisme, c'est-a-dire la morale de ^akia-mouny, etait une reHgion sans dieu, sans songer que ce grand philosophe, ne dans le Brahmanisme, et eleve dans le meme milieu, avait toujours 6vite les questions dogmatiques, et avait encore moins song6 k renier sa foi. En prenant le Nirvana pour base de ces predications il ne faisait qu'appliquer le Brahmanisme dans ce qu'il avait de plus comprehensible pour les populations. Aussi les protestations s'61everent chez nous contre Burnouf et Bartheiemy Saint-Hilaire, et des 1856 M. T. B. Obry se fit le prota- goniste de la reaction. En 1865 M. Weber, et Max Miiller (1869) se rangerent au meme avis, et depuis de nombreux explorateurs, savants, et 6veques memes, ont confirme la these du spiritualisme indien et bouddhique. En resume le Nirvana n'a pas ete presente par le Bouddha oomme etant transforme, c'est celui d'avant lui dont il a parle. II n'a formule aucune critique des croyances asiatiques. Le culte des ancetres et les transmigrations des ames sont d'ailleurs les meilleures preuves de la spiritualite des religions locales. Ces trans- migrations, on le sait, avaient pour effet de soumettre les mauvais h des conditions nouvelles desouffrance et d'humiliation, ils purgeaient les peines auxquelles ils avaient echappes dans la vie terrestre, tant qu'ils n'etaient point parvenus a la perfection morale et I'obtention des joies et du repos complet du Nirvana. Le Nirvana n'est done pas I'extinction complete ; il n'a que celle que nous donnons memes en disant de nos morts, qu'ils se sont eteints dans la paix du Seigneur qui recueille les ames. 12 PSYCHOLOGIE RELIGIEUSE ET BOUDDHISME Par PAUL OLTRAMARE. (Resume) Une originalite du bouddhisme, c'est I'attention que ses ecrivains ont pretee a Taction psychologique des idees et des faits religieux, et aux signes exterieurs de cette action. En dehors de nombreuses observations occasionnelles qu'on rencontre dans des textes de toute dpoque et de tout genre, certaines theories importantes ont un caractere psycbologique plutot qu'ontologique. La theorie des skandha, par exemple, n'est pas tant I'analyse des elements dont sont formes les objets connus que I'expose de ce qui se passe dans le sujet connaisseur. On pent, en outre, tirer de la litterature religieuse des descriptions sufi&samment completes de phenomenes psychologiques. II est faoheux sans doute que, vite hieratisees par la tradition scolastique, elles aient pris un aspect schematique et stereotype ; elles n'en gardent pas moins une valeiir documentaire qu'on aurait tort de negliger. Nous passerons rapidement en revue les trois phenomenes oaracteris- tiques qui ont particuHerement soUicite I'attention des psychologues : la conversion, la priere, I'extase mystique. Conversion. De nombreux textes nous montrent comment on s'est represente ce qui se passe dans I'ame de celui qui ' se met en marche vers reveU '. Voir, par example, Majjh. Nik., vol. i, pp. 378 sqq. (Upali), pp. 495sq. (Vacchagotta) ; p. 510 (Magandiya). Les heros de ces recits, sur la seule impression morale que leur ont faite les discours du Bouddha, commencent par mettre leur confiance dans le maitre ; quand Us ont confesse leur f oi, le Bouddha leur donne I'instruction morale ; enfin, des qu'il leur voit un coeur bien prepare, il leur communique la doctrine proprement dite. Done, la f oi d'abord ; I'enseignement ensuite. Ce n'est pas tant parce que le Bouddha preche la verite que le fidele acquiesce et croit ; c'est parce qu'il a donne son coeur que la parole du Bouddha lui apparait vraie et salu- taire. C'est 1^ le type qui s'est fixe dans I'egUse. Mais nous savons bien que toutes les conversions ne sont pas causees par I'exemple ou par la parole d'autrui. Une experience vdcue, un accident meme fortuit pent produire dans un esprit un choc moral et determiner une vocation rehgieuse. La legende et I'liistoire coimaissent fort bien ces cas. On appelle samvega, commotion, I'^branlement qui fait que Ton se tourne vers les id^es de salut. Les ' quatre rencontres ' presentent, f2 68 T^. Religions of India and h'an sous forme mytliique, la serie des saihvega qui arracherent Siddhartha a sa vie de plaisir. C'est aussi un samvega qui a fait d'Asoka un bouddhiste. Que la conversion soit amenee par une sorte de contagion morale, ou qu'elle vienne des experiences de la vie, elle transforme du tout au tout celui en qui elle se produit. Priere. Le culte qu'on rend au Bouddha a pour effet de renouveler sans cease chez I'homme pieux le ' processus ' psychologique de la con- version et de I'illumination. II doit, non pas provoquer chez I'etre qui en est I'objet un sentiment favorable a son adorateur, mais eveiller chez celui-ci une bonne pensee, une disposition d'esprit salutaire. Comme Nagasena I'explique a Milinda (Mil. P., pp. 95 sqq.), ce n'est pas une raison parce que le Bouddha est entre dans son nirvana, pour que I'hommage qui lui est offert, ne conserve pas sa bienfaisance tout entiere. Le Bouddha a ete comme un grand vent qui eteint la fievre dont les hommes sont consumes. En I'absence de vent, on se sert d'eventails qui produisent une brise legere. Tel le bien qu'on ressent du culte presente aux reUques et aux joyaux, alors meme que, mort, le Tathagata est insensible a toute offrande. Le culte est done un© intussusception d'idees salutaires. JEtats mystiques. Affranchi de la domination des sens, le saint acquiert une faculte iUimitee de vision et d'action qui se manifeste dans les dhyana. Le dhyana est un phenomene complexe d' exaltation psychique dans lequel les theologiens, tributaires pour toute cette theorie de leurs devanciers brahmaniques, ont reconnu une serie de phases distinctes. Bien qu'une phraseologie faussement precise voile les descriptions qu'ils font des ph^nomenes de trance, il est aise de reconnaitre que, par les dhyana, I'homme religieux, soustrait k I'in- fiuence du monde contingent, voit sa personnaUte s'agrandir infiniment jusqu'^ ce qu'elle se confonde — temporairement — avec I'absolu. Cette tendance psychologique donne au bouddhisme. un caractere tout particulier. A s'en tenir aux faits qui viennent d'etre rappeles, on constate que I'homme ne saurait appartenir a cette religion sans un acte formel de volonte. La conversion est consideree comme une orientation nouveUe donnee a la vie. La genese du salut est presentee comme spirituelle et tout a fait personnelle ; elle est, de plus, lente et successive. De Ik, pour le bouddhisme, plusieurs consequences importantes. J 'en signale une ou deux. Religion personnelle et interieure, le bouddhisme vise k pen^trer la vie entiere de ceux qui le confessent. II laisse par consequent tomber la distinction du sacre et du profane, qui coupe I'existence desindividus et des societes en deux parties tranchees. En meme temps, il se d^sin- 12. Psychologie Religieuse et Bouddhisme : Oltramare 69 teresse de la societe comme telle, et ne connait plus guere la notion de tabou ; il ne eroit pas h, la contagion du sacrilege. La doctrine et la discipline sont necessaires pour nettoyer soit I'esprit, soit le coeur ; mais elles ne sont pas les vraies ouvrieres de la saintete et du salut. II f aut f aire I'experience personnelle de la vie religieuse. L'obeissance k una tradition, k une autorite n'a pas de valeur par elle-meme. Pour arriver a la connaissance, il faut I'enseignement, mais cet enseignement doit etre corrobore, assimile par la reflexion. Appuyees I'une sur I'autre, la confiance que Ton met en la parole d'un maitre et la recherche patiente de la verity, 61iminent I'individualisme sans garantie, et le dogmatisme traditionnaliste. Comment I'enseignement et le travail personnel s'associent pour I'elaboration de la connaissance, le Bouddha I'a expUque au jeune brahmane mis en scene dans Majjh. Nik., vol. ii, pp. 171 sqq. Le bouddhisme ' psychologique ' n'est nullement tout le bouddhisme. Cette religion n'a d'ailleurs pas attire que des penseurs soUtaires et contemplatifs. EUe a fait sentir son action a des foules composees d' elements venus de tons les coins de I'horizon intellectuel, social et moral. Elle a conquis ces masses parce qu'elle leur a ofEert des regies et des croyances tres positives, et qu'elle a pose I'existence d'etres dont I'intervention est efScace pour I'elaboration du salut. Dans cette autre orientation du bouddhisme, les motifs psychologiques prennent la forme de mythes et deviennent objectifs ; exemples : les quatre rencontres ; le mal personnifie en Mara. Ici la priere est exauc6e du dehors, et les etats mystiques mettent I'homme en communion avec des etres surhumains. ' Psychologique,' le bouddhisme continue les anoiennes Upanisads, qui, eUes aussi, enseignaient une methode de salut individueUe et interieure. II differe des Upanisads, en ce qu'il n'est ni esoterique ni inteUectualiste. ReUgion, il veut transformer la vie de I'individu, Bans se preoccuper du miheu d'ou sort cet individu. ' Populaire,' le bouddhisme voisine avec les religions qu'on comprend sous le nom d'hindouisme. Comme U a du presenter ce caractere, des qu'il a re9U des laiques, c'est-a-dire des I'origine, il n'y a pas lieu de chercher laquelle des deux orientations du bouddhisme a prec6d6 I'autre. Ce qui est certain, c'est qu'a la fois psychologique et populaire, il donnait satisfaction a des aspirations tres divergentes. Ce fut la sans doute une des causes de son succes. 70 v. Religions of India and Iran 13 THE RELATIONS OF ART AND RELIGION IN INDIA By ANANDA K. COOMARASWAMY.^ (Absteact) These outstanding phases of the relation of art to reHgion are recognizable : art in the service of reUgion (religious art) ; art rejected by reUgion (asceticism) ; and art despised by religion (puritanism). The first two of these positions are properly characteristic of Hinduism and Buddhism, the third of Islam. The possibihty of reconciling the two first is found in the fact that Hinduism does not seek to lay down for all men, or for all parts of a man's Hfe, the same course of action, or point to one only method of spiritual progress and means of salvation. Indian art is essentially religious and aims at the intimation of Divinity. But the Infinite and Unconditioned cannot be expressed in finite terms ; hence the religious art of India is concerned with the representation of personal divinities. For most men the love and service of a personal deity is their religion ; and it is their faith that Indian rehgious art expresses. These are the true citizens, for whom art is an aid to and a means of spiritual progress ; ' fine art ' an intima- tion of the Infinite ; the ' lesser arts ' a witness that man does not live by bread alone. True asceticism, on the other hand, is a search for a reality beyond conditioned life. Turning to the actual religious art of India, we find that it expresses in concrete imagery ideas that belong to the transcendental and mystic aspects of religion. Indian religious art contrasts thus with Greek, which corresponds only to the Olympian aspect of Greek religion. There are many Greek statues that may be either athletes or Apollos. In Indian religious art, on the contrary, the human form is used not for the sake of its own perfection, but to express transcen- dental conceptions ; the ideal, non-human, and sometimes grotesque character of Hindu images is always deliberate and intentional. Nature is a veil, not a revelation ; art is to be something more than a mere imitation of this maya. Almost the whole philosophy of Indian art is summed up in the verse of Sukracarya's Sukranltisara, which enjoins upon the imager the method of meditation : ' In order that the form of an image may be brought fully and clearly before the mind, the image maker should meditate ; and his ' See also A. K. Coomaraswamy, The Aims of Indian Art, Campden, 1908. 13. Art and Religion in India: Coomaraswamy 71 success -will be in proportion to his meditation. No other way — not indeed seeing the object itseK — will achieve his purpose.' The method of concentration in religious devotion upon the mental image of an Ishta Devata, or patron deity, is identical with the method of evoking and defining mental images practised by the imager or painter. This is illustrated by the comparison of Dhyana mantrams with verses from the technical books of imagers {Silpa sastras). The use of images in worship is generally misunderstood by students who belong to more or less puritanical religions. The Hindu view, not unlike the Catholic, is somewhat as follows : Except for those whose heart is set on an immediate realization of a non-majdc, uncon- ditioned state of existence as subject without object, images are of value as a centre of thought. Images obviously made with hands are often less Hkely to create misconceptions than purely mental con- cepts of divinity — they are more, or at least not less, obviously symbols, and are thus less liable to be regarded as an adequate representation of the Infinite. The educated image worshipper knows that the very name of God, and the attribution of qualities to Him, are limitations imposed by his own intellect ; still more that the form of the image is not really the form of the god, but only analogous with a coloured glass held before the sun. Religious symbolism in Indian art is of two kinds ; the concrete symbohsm of attributes, and the symbolism of gesture, sex, and physical peculiarities. The symbohsm of gesture includes the various positions of the hands known as mudras ; of physical peculiarities the third eye of Siva or the elephant head of Ganesa are instances. The subject of sex-symbohsm is generally misinterpreted ; but, in fact, this imagery drawn from the deepest emotional experiences is a proof both of the power and truth of the art and the religion. India has not feared either to use sex-symbols in its religious art, or to see in sex itself an intimation of the Infinite.^ The lingam is not properly an instance of sex-symbolism ; it is probably not of phaUic origin, but derived from the stupa, and is now regarded as the highest emblem of Siva, because the least anthropo- morphic. True sex-symbohsm in Indian art or hterature assumes two main forms : the conception of the relation of the soul to God expressed in terms of the passionate adoration of a woman for her lover ; and the representation of the energic power {sakti) of a divinity as a feminine divinity. With regard to the use of sex-symbohsm in Indian art there may be quoted here the words used by Sir Monier WiUiams in referring to the presence of words of erotic significance in his Sanskrit Dictionary : ' in ' Brihaddranyaka Upanishad, 4. 3. 21 ; also 1. 4. 3-4. 72 V. Religions of India and Iran India tKe relation between the sexes is regarded as a sacred mystery, and is never held to be suggestive of improper or indecent ideas.' As much could not be said of Europe. Indian religious art is often, but by no means always, beautiful ; it may also be terrible or grotesque. Personal gods are aspects of a pantheistic Divinity, upon whom ' all this universe is strung as gems upon a thread '. But nature is not always smihng ; she is concerned not less with death than life. As there are three gwias or qualities in nature, sattva, rajas, and tamas, images are also classified into three, sattvik, rajasik, and tamasik. But it is best to study the relation between religion and art from actual examples. The seated Buddha may be selected as an example of one of the traditional conceptions of Indian rehgious art. Here conventionality and tradition are commonly held to fetter artistic imagination. But it is a modern error to associate imaginative in- tensity only with novelty. For, to the nameless artists who wrought the religious sculptures of India, the aim was not to prove their own cleverness, but to retell the great thing itself, which meant so much to them, and which it was given to them continually to re-express. As regards the Buddha, it is not true, as is sometimes said, that there is no development, in the sense that the work of different epochs is quite uncharaoterized. But it is true that the conception remains through- out almost identical. This is an expression of the fact that the Indian ideal has not changed. What is this ideal so passionately desired ? It is one-pointedness, same-sightedness, control ; little by little to rein in, not merely the sense, but the mind. Only by constant labour and passionlessness is this peace to be attained. What is the attitude of mind and body of one that seeks it ? He shall be seated like the image ; for that posture once acquired, is one of perfect bodily equi- poise : ' so shall he sit that is under the rule, given over unto Me. In this wise the yogi . . . comes to the peace that ends in nirvana and that abides in Me.' How then should the greatest of India's teachers be represented otherwise than in this posture that is in India associated with every striving after the great Ideal ? One other point connected with statues of the Buddha may be referred to. It relates to the statues of Dhyani Buddhas. The earthly mortal Buddha is sometimes regarded as merely a projection or partial incarnation (arnsah) of a pure and glorious being functioning on some finer, more ideal plane. A statue of a Dhyani Buddha stands for this pure being, not merely for the man as he appeared on earth. The idea belongs to the Hindu conception of partial incarnation. Such conceptions were not unknown to the founders of the great traditions of Indian art ; and it is this fact which gives so much depth and seriousness not merely to their work, but even to the last monuments 13. Art and Religion in India: Coo^naraswamy 73 of the tradition. For if it is true that the conception of the seated Buddha is one into which the genius of the greatest artist may be poured without any lack of room for its complete expansion, it is also true that this motif even in a shapeless or grotesque form remains for those whose spiritual heritage it is, a well understood symbol of eternal things. In the same way, by a study of other typical examples of Indian religious art, the relation of art and religion in India may be understood. This paper is thus an elementary study of the religious psychology of Indian art. Certain conclusions may be drawn. In the first place, the proper study of Indian art has hardly yet begun. By a proper study is meant not merely a close study of the weak and relatively unimportant semi-classic style of North-west India in the first few centuries after Christ, but a study of the development of the Indian ideal and its emancipation from foreign formulae unsuited to its expression. True Indian art is as little understood in the West to-day, as Indian philosophy and literature a hundred years ago. This is illustrated by a recent pronouncement of no less eminent an archaeo- logist than Mr. Vincent Smith: 'After a.d. 300 Indian sculpture properly so called hardly deserves to be reckoned as art.' Such a state- m.ent is only to be paralleled with Lord Macaulay's famous dictum upon the value of Oriental literature. It remains to be seen what value will be set upon Indian art in the West, and what influence it will have upon Western art, when it is as well known to artists as Japanese art is even at the present day. That influence should result in some real apphcation of psychological prin- ciples in the consideration of the aims and purpose of art, and in the education of artists. At present the education of Western artists is an education merely in technique ; the imagination is left to take care of itself, so long as the imitative powers are fully developed. Now if there is one thing which distinguishes the true artist from other men, it is not a knowledge of anatomy or a capacity for the meticulous imitation of nature, but it is the power of mental vision, of visualization, literally ' imagina- tion '. Instead of being taught by meditation and concentration to cultivate this power, the Western student's whole time is taken up with copying things that are set before his physical eyes. The true Indian artist, on the other hand, who does not regard the reproduction of still life as the aim of art, is taught by memory work and practice in visualization to form a definite and perfect mental picture before he begins to draw or carve at all ; his whole endeavour is to cultivate the power of mind-seeing. It is in this respect that Western art has most to learn from India. Further, the distinction between naturalism and idealism in art is one that is fundamentally religious. Religion, for India, is much more 74 V. Religions of India and Iran a metaphysio than a dogma ; and it is the lack of a metaphysic in modern Western materiahstic culture, and in the surviving realism of Semitic theology, that makes it possible for the Western artist now to find sufficient satisfaction in the imitation of beautiful appearances, and a sufficient aim for art in the giving of pleasure. It is not, however, possible for the greatest art to flourish, if men can believe in nothing more real and more eternal than the external face of nature. The true world of art is not the phenomenal world about us, but an ideal world of the imagination. Finally, as regards the future of art in India, two tendencies are apparent to-day, one inspired by the technical achievements of the modern West, the other a reaction towards the spiritual idealism of the East. If the greatest art is always both National and Religious — and how empty any other art must be ! — ^it is in the latter tendency alone that we can trace the germ of a new and greater Indian art, that shall fulfil and not destroy the past. 14 In a Paper entitled Two Problems relating to the History of Indian Religions, Mr. Mazumdar maintained that for a correct interpretation of the Vedas it was necessary in the first place to consider the birth- place of the religion which is dimly shadowed forth therein : arguments were adduced to prove that the pre-historic Aryans formed their culture-group in India. Secondly, the question was raised as to the date and circumstances in which the Vedas were compiled as Sarahitas ; from certain references in the Vedas themselves it seemed that in early Hindu civilization the Vedic Religion lost its influence with the cultured classes, and that these compilations were collections of Man- tras made by the priestly clans, with spiritual interpretations added. Thus their raison d'etre was the effort on the part of the priests to revive faith in the early cult. 15 BUDDHIST RELIGIOUS ART By a. a. MACDONELL. (Abstract) Owing to the total lack of works of a historical character from the rise of Indian literature to the Muhammadan conquest (c. a.d. 1000), we are largely dependent on archaeology in its various branches for the reconstruction of the external history of Indian religions. Though Indian religion can be traced back in literature to so early a date as 15. Buddhist Religious Art: Macdonell 75 c. 1500 B. c, it did not begin to express itself in the form of structural and plastic art till a comparatively late period. None of the archi- tectural or sculptural antiquities which survive in India can, with one exception, be dated earlier than 260 B.C. That exception is a brick stupa or relic mound at Piprahwa on the Nepal frontier, which was explored ten years ago and has with probability been assigned to 450 B.C. The history of Indian art really begins with the reign of Asoka (272-231 B.C.), who spent a great part of his life in promoting the interests of Buddhism by inscribing many edicts and erecting vast numbers of stupas to commemorate the founder of the faith in every part of India. The history of Buddhistic religious art in India extends over more than nine centuries and may be divided iato three roughly equal periods. The earliest reaches from 260 B.C. to a.d. 50. The monuments which survive in India from this period are almost exclusively the work of Buddhists. It was the Buddhists who introduced the use of stone in architecture at the commencement of this period. The Buddhists were, in fact, the first who buUt with stone in India. For some centuries earlier the architectural use of brick had been known, as is proved by the stupa of Piprahwa. But the ornamental buildings of the pre- Asokan age must have been built of wood, like the modem palaces of Burma, only the substructure being made of brick. The whole history of Indian architecture points to previous construction in wood, the stone monuments being to a large extent imitations of wooden models. The second and, as far as Buddhist sculpture is concerned, best period extends roughly from a.d. 50-350. The third period (a.d. 350-650) is noteworthy chiefly for what it produced in the way of pictorial art. The remains of Buddhist art in India may be grouped under the three heads of architectural, sculptural, and pictorial. Sculpture and painting practically always appear in connexion with architecture, and invariably in the service of religion. Buddhist paintings survive only in two groups of caves in Western India. A. Early Buddhist architecture may be divided into three main groups : (1) Stupas or reHe mounds, (2) Chaityas or places of worship, (3) Viharas or dwellings for the monks. 1. The stupa is a dome-shaped structure, being a development of the low burial mound in which baked bricks were substituted for earth with a view to durability. They were erected by the Buddhists as monuments enclosing relics of Buddha or of Buddhist saints. Some, however, were only commemorative of important events or miracles connected with the history of Buddha. The best representative of 76 V. Religions of India and Iran this form of structure is the large stupa at Sanchi in Central India, dating probably from the third century B.C. From a substructure consisting of a low circular drum, rises a hemispherical dome, which is surrounded by a procession path forming the upper rim of the drum. On the top of the dome is a box-like structure called a tee (a Burmese word) surmounted by an umbrella. The stupa itself is surrounded by a massive stone railing, with gates on four sides, en- closing a procession path. Both the rails and the gates are unmis- takable imitations of wooden models. The gateways (Sansk. torana) were introduced into China and Japan along with Buddhist architec- ture from India. The earliest stupas were proportionately very low. Thus the height of the Piprahwa stupa is only one-fifth of its diameter. As time went on the relative height increased. The Sanchi stupa is half as high as it is wide. In the stupa at Samath, near Benares, the height is considerably greater than the diameter. In other words, the stupa shows a tendency to assume the shape of a tower. Con- currently the tee also became elongated, as may be seen in chrono- logically successive specimens in the rock-cut temples. The combined elongation is well represented by a stupa found in Cambodia. The next step is a further elongation of the tee with a corresponding diminu- tion of the stupa itself. This is well illustrated by an example found in Nepal. Here, too, the thirteen umbrellas of the tee (which in Indian rock-cut and model stone specimens vary from three to nine) have assumed the form of roofs. In Burma the process goes stiU further, hardly anything but the tee being left. The final step is reached in China, where the tee is practically aU that remains. The stupa became to the early Buddhists the rehgious edifice far excellence, and was the sacred object always set up by them for worship in their temples. 2. The chaityas were the counterpart of Christian churches, not only in form but in use. Till recently only rock-cut specimens to the number of about thirty were known in India. These enable us to understand what the interiors at least of these structures were like. The typical chaitya consists of a nave and side aisles terminating in an apse. The pillars separating the nave from the aisles are continued round the apse, under which is the rock-cut stupa. The roof of the chaitya is semicircular. Over the doorway is a gallery, above which is a large window shaped like a horseshoe and lighting the stupa. The outward appearance of the structural chaitya was for a long time somewhat conjectural, but recent discoveries in the Bombay and Madras Presidencies have supplied the necessary evidence. The excavation of the rock-cut chaityas extended from 260 B. c. to about A. D. 600, and the development of their style can be followed step by 15. Buddhist Religious Art: Macdonell 77 step throughout these nine centuries. The earliest examples clearly imitate wooden originals. As we pass to the latest specimens, we can clearly trace progress towards lithic construction on the one hand, and degeneracy in cult on the other. By the fifth century a.d. all trace of woodwork has disappeared. The rail ornament so common in the earlier caves has vanished, while the horseshoe window-heads employed as a decoration on the fafade are dwarfed. A striking change is the fact that figure sculpture has superseded the plainer architectural forms of the earlier caves. The greatest change, how- ever, is the introduction of figures of Buddha in all his attitudes. Only ordinary mortals are sculptured in the earUer caves, while Buddha never appears. Now he is even the object of worship, his image being placed in front of the stupa itself, which alone was adored in the older chaityas. In the large chaitya at EUora, which dates from about A.D. 600, the stupa has a frontispiece making it square on this side and containing a seated figure of Buddha. In the latest chaitya cave found in India (at Kiolvi), the stiipa is no longer soHd, but is hollowed out into a cell in which an image of Buddha is placed. This marks the last step in the development of the Buddhist chaitya and furnishes a transition to the later Jain and Hindu temples. 3. The Buddhist viharas or monasteries survive only in rock-cut specimens, of which there are about 900 in India. They consisted of a hall, generally square, surrounded by a number of sleeping cubicles and provided with a verandah in front. About forty of the extant viharas appear to have been excavated before the Christian era. In the earliest period there were at first no pillars in the haU, but at the end of the first century B.C. four pillars supporting the ceiling begin to be introduced. There is as yet no figure sculpture. The only ornament consists of horseshoe arches and the Buddhist rail as a string- course with an occasional pilaster. In the second period the number of pillars was first increased to twelve, then twenty, then twenty- four, and finally twenty-eight, while a sanctuary containing a figure of Buddha was introduced in the back wall. In the third period, the sanctuaries become more elaborate, till finally, about a.d. 700, the whole plan and sculpture of the viharas become indistinguishable from those of the Hindus. This transition is most clearly seen at EUora. B. We now come to Buddhist religious art as represented by sculpture. In the first period (260 b.c. to a.d. 50), the Buddhist cult, following the doctrine of the Hinayana or the Lesser Vehicle, had no worship of Buddha ; of whom no sculpture in any of his conventional attitudes can be dated earlier than about the end of the first century a.d. Rever- ence was paid during this early period to relics, stupas. Bo-trees, foot- prints of Buddha, and to sacred symbols such as the trisul or trident, 78 V. Religions of India and Iran and the wheel of the law. The sculptures appear on the railings and gateways of stupas, on monolith columns, on the pillars and fa9ades of chaityas and the walls of viharas. The most ancient railings are perfectly plain. But they soon began to be adorned with bosses, panels, and friezes. Then the railing at Barhat (200-150 B.C.) is covered in every part with bas-reliefs which are practically an illus- trated treatise on Buddhist mythology. Similarly, the entire surface of the gateways at Sanchi is occupied by sculptures in relief. The finest specimen of a carved column is the Asoka pillar of Sarnath, the capital of which is reeded and beU-shaped in PersepoHtan style, and surmounted by beautifully carved lions. Little in the way of figure sculpture occurs in the early caves. It is noteworthy that from 200 B. c. onwards reliefs representing Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of fortune, are found in every part of India. The sculpture of this early period of Buddhist art, though the details of real hfe which it repre- sents are always purely Indian, shows clear traces of both Persian and Greek influence. The history of the second period (a.d. 50-350) begins in the extreme north-west of India, the ancient province of Gandhara, at the time when the Mahayana school was introduced by Nagarjuna. Here we are confronted with a new epoch ; for representations of Buddha and of Bodhisattvas (future Buddhas) suddenly appear in the monasteries of this district in the first century a.d. It is characteristic of this new phase of Buddhism that the monks have been ousted from their cells by images of Buddha and that these images are always adorned with a nimbus. The figure of Buddha supplied a centre for groups of sculpture, as that of Christ in Christian works of art. In this region was created the type of Buddha which spread from here to other parts of India and was finally diffused over the Buddhist world. This Gandhara art was evidently produced under Hellenistic influence through contact with the Roman empire, being closely related to the art of the Antonine period. Thus the Corinthian pillars containing diminutive figures of Buddha in the foHage found here are clearly copied from Roman models. In this second period there was another school of Buddhistic art which flourished in Southern India at Amaravati on the Kistna river. It is represented by the great rail belonging to a stupa dating from the end of the second century a. d. The rail is covered with sculpture, which is extraordinarily elaborate and of great beauty of detail. This school seems to derive its inspiration from Alexandrine art. In the third and decadent period the Buddhists used images as freely as the Hindus. The characteristic feature of Hindu sculpture, which represents the gods with several heads and arms, now made its way into Buddhist art. Thus in one of the late Buddhist caves at 15. Buddhist Religious Art : Macdonell 79 Kanheri, the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara appears with eleven heads. The mediaeval Buddhist statues of Behar are found to be so similar to those in the Hindu temples, that skilled archaeologists are often unable to distinguish them. G. What remains of Buddhist pictorial art belongs to the third period and is limited to the frescoes found in two of the western groups of caves, those at Ajanta and Bagh. The paintings at Bagh have not been copied or minutely described. Traces of the painting survive on the ceilings, walls, and pillars of thirteen caves at Ajanta. The oldest frescoes here belong to the end of the second century a. d. A second group dates from about a. d. 350-550, appearing on the pillars of one of the caves and comprising pictures of Buddha with drapery and nimbus in the style of the Gandhara school. The most important series of paintings is the latest. The subjects are almost entirely confined to Buddhist mythology and legend. One painting represents the Temptation of Buddha ; another the landing and coronation of a Buddhist king in Ceylon ; a third scene, remarkable for its pathos, depicts a dying princess. The purpose of aU these paintings was the edification of pious Buddhists. The foreign infl.uence which is evident in them was probably that of the Sassanian art of Persia. 16 GREEK INFLUENCES ON THE RELIGIOUS ART OF NORTH INDIA By p. GARDNER. (Abstract) I ALMOST regret that we did not at this Congress constitute a tenth section which should deal with the relations between the various religions of the world and art. It is a vast and a profoundly interesting subject, and one which has been much neglected on the whole, more especially in England, where the courses of religion and art have lain somewhat apart. I think it undeniable that polytheism has a closer relation to art than monotheism. I must, however, emphasize the fact that I am using the word art in a somewhat technical way, and excluding from it music, poetry, and even architecture. Speaking of plastic and pictorial art my thesis is certainly true. The great polytheistic religions of the ancient world, of Assyria, of Egypt, and above all of Greece, have left us splendid treasures in sculpture and painting. 80 V. Religions of India and Iran Of the great monotheistic religions of the modern world, two, Judaism and Mohammedanism, repudiate the representation of living things in art ; and Christianity itself, though of course it does not prohibit religious art, and makes terms with it in all lands, yet finds it not easy to develop an art really suitable to it. Where Christianity is more materialist and approaches nearer to polytheism, it is better represented in art. Where it is more spiritual, it has usually been on terms of hostility, or at all events on terms of indifference, towards art. Early Christianity had no art of its own, but simply borrowed types from heathen religions, figures of the ram-bearing shepherd, of Orpheus, and the like. It turned Victories into angels, and developed representations of the eucharistic feast out of sepulchral banquets. Only by degrees did Christian art develop out of heathen representa- tions a series of types of its own, which it handed down to our ancestors of the Middle Ages. These of course had merit : but at present I have no time to speak either of their merits or demerits. Considerations such as these prepare us for the phenomena of early Buddhist plastic art in India. As a religion. Buddhism is even less well adapted to the arts of painting and of sculpture than is Christianity ; more pessimistic, more contemptuous of the body, more ascetic. In the primitive story of Gautama and his teaching there is no element which is adapted to plastic art ; the face of the religion is turned away from the beauty of the visible world towards self-control and towards conduct. In fact a very close parallel may be drawn, as in other fields, so in the history of art, between the phenomena of early Christianity and those of Buddhism. It was the apocryphal legends of Christianity, the story of the Virgin Mother, the tales of the Saints, which after a while gave rise to what may fairly be called a Christian art, with new subjects and some power of development. So it is the growth of legend about the founder of Buddhism, and his acquisition of colleagues in the Buddhahood, about Bodhisattvas and demons, which gave an opportunity for the growth of a specifically Buddhist art. The Buddhist religion during the three centuries before, and the three centuries after, our era found two kinds or species of art in India, and worked upon both with different results. In India itself it found in possession of the field an art which was native, which, if containing some elements borrowed from Assyria and Persia, yet in the main reflected the Indian character and ideas. This is the art of Asoka, of Udaigiri, of Bharhut, of Buddhagaya, of Sanchi, and later of Amaravati. It shows clearly that in development native Indian art was at the time as far advanced as that of Europe, though it is infinitely inferior to it in taste and beauty. 16. Greek Influences on Indian Art: Gardner 81 It certainly is a curious fact that we have no specimen of native Indian art earlier than the latter part of the third century b. c. It was probably of wood, and other perishable materials. But there can be no doubt that Indian art had an earlier history. The art of Asoka is a mature art : in some respects more mature than the Greek art of the time, though of course far inferior to it, at least in our eyes. It has been observed that the religion of the Vedas is too vague and spiritual to be suited to plastic art. No doubt there is truth in this saying. But already, as we can prove, at the beginning of the Christian era, many of the gods of Hinduism, Indra, Siva, Skanda, and others were thought of in bodily shape. Art had doubtless grown to meet religion. On this side, then, it was a Hindu or Brah- manic art from which Buddhism took the elements with which it started. I shall not treat of this purely native art of India ; but confine my remarks to a special field, the art of the Kabul Valley, especially of the district of Gandhara. Here Buddhism had to do, not with a native art, but with one remarkably mixed, and compounded of various elements. On the whole the art of Gandhara is at a far higher level than that of central North India ; the forms are far more dignified, the attitudes nobler, the drapery far superior. The art of Gandhara has a special interest for us, because it was mainly this which in- fluenced China and the north. And to us Hellenes it has a great attraction because it is full of the influence of Greece, that is to say, of later Hellenistic Greece. I have heard it spoken of as a branch of HeUenistic art : this is going too far, but it is an ex- aggeration of the truth. It is my chief purpose on this occasion to make it clear, so far as is possible in the few minutes accorded to me, of what kind the Hellenistic influence on the art of Gandhara really is. There is one way, and one way only, whereby we may trace the gradual working of the influence of Western Art in the Kabul VaUey ; and that way is by means of the coins of Greek and Scythic kings who bore sway there for four or five centuries after 200 B.C. These kings are scarcely mentioned in history. But their coins must have been very abundant, and are still found in great numbers. And to a numismatist they tell their story very clearly. What they prove is that during those four or five centuries there was a continuous civihzation in the region, although various races held from time to time the hegemony. That civilization was a strangely compound one. It had Greek elements, perhaps a Greek basis ; but it was overlaid with Iranian and Indian elements, and Buddhism was, at all events after the second century a. d., the ruling spiritual force in it. If I show you a few groups of coins in successive periods, I shall be 82 V, Religions of India and Iran able, far better than in any amount of discussion, to make clear its phases .'^ The one point on which I wish to insist is that we have in these coins a contemporary record of the growth of a civiUzation. It is true that little remains save the coins to mirror its gradual development. We have a few statues of Greek deities from Kabul, and a good many engraved gems. But speaking generally the works of art and architec- ture in this region down to the second century a.d. have perished ; after that we have, as will presently appear, considerable remains in stone. But there can be no doubt that there existed in the Kabul valley, contemporary with the half-Greek civilizations of Syria and Arabia and Parthia, a semi-Hellenistic culture. People have said that Greek civihzation died out in North India, and that the coins of Kanishka and Huvishka represent a stream of fresh influence from Rome. One considerable authority told me that he thought it likely that the source of it was the soldiers of Crassus captured by the Parthians and settled in inner Asia. This is a romance. It is true that Roman gold of the early emperors went from Alexandria to the mouths of the Indus and thence inland. It may be that it was from the Roman aurei that the kings of the Yueh Chi took the notion of a gold coinage ; for the coins of Alexander the Great had probably by that time disappeared. But there is no trace of copying the tjrpes of the Roman coins. The types of the Scythic kings are strikingly and aggressively original. They prove not only the existence in their dominions of a most remarkable eclectic Pantheon, but they prove that there were artists among them possessed of great skill, and that Greek was in some degree still understood, holding probably a position hke that which Norman French held in this country at one time. In the whole history of art I know of no more astonishing pheno- menon than the sudden appearance upon the coins of the Tartar kings of a vast series of types of deities, indicating an extensive selection of deities from all the neighbouring peoples. The syncretism of religions at Rome oilers the nearest parallel ; and this was an almost contem- porary phenomenon. We are told that Severus Alexander, who reignedA.D. 222-235, had a teranwm in which stood figures of Abraham, Orpheus, ApoUonius of Tyana and Christ. This was not a mere imperial craze, for among the people the same mixture of cults pre- ' Instances selected from the British Museum Catalogue of the Coins of Oreek and Scythic Kings of India : PI. IV, 4-10. Agathocles. PI. XVI, 1-9. Maues. PI. xxn, 1-9. Coins of Parthian kings. PL XXV, 7-14. Kadphises. PI. xxvE. Kanishka. PI. xxvni. Huvishka. 16. Greek Influences on Indian Art : Gardner 83 vailed. The coins of contemporary Parthia also show us a curious mixture of Iranian and Greek cults. In both these cases, though there were abundant deities, yet really the object of worship was the king or emperor. There are indications on the coins of Kanishka and Huvishka, flames arising from the king's shoulders, the nimbus round his head, and the like, which seem to show that he after all was the centre of worship, rather than any deities. But Kanishka embraced Buddhism. How did that agree with the imperial worship ? Buddhism seems in modern days to go well enough in China and Japan with various Pagan cults, and particularly with the worship of the imperial house. The Buddhism of these kings must have been very superficial. Buddhism, during these centuries, came in, prevailed, decayed, and disappeared. From the diaries of Chinese pilgrims we know that it was stiU strong in the Kabul valley in the fifth century a. D. ; in the seventh it was almost gone. The Indo-Scythic dynasty of North India was in the fourth century overpowered and supplanted by that of the Guptas, a native race with Hindu religion. The plentiful gold coinage of the Gupta kings bears scarcely a trace of Greek influence : it is essentially Indian in character. After this date the Greek influence, whether in letters or art, spread no further into India, and died away in the Kabul valley. The only direction in which it spread further was towards China and the north. In EJiotan Dr. Stein has found plaster figures which can clearly be afSliated to the art of Gandhara : and to any eye used to art the mediaeval and modem works of China and Japan show in the treatment of the human form, though not in other respects, traces •of Greek influence. Let us next turn to the extant sculpture of Gandhara and the neigh- bouring district. And first we must mention two or three figures, for there are but two or three of them, which represent Greek deities imalloyed. These are exactly parallel to the figures on coins of the Greek kings. A figure of Athena, for example, in the museum at Lahore, is exactly parallel to the Athena on the coins of King Azes at the beginning of the Christian era. It is not a work of pure Greek art ; it is not imported ; but it shows exactly the style in which the artists of North- West India worked at the time. Besides this there have come down to us a figiu-e of Herakles slaying a snake-legged giant, figures of Silenus and the hke : scanty remains, but enough to show that the art of the Greek and Scythic kings was not confined to coins, but spread into sculpture also. But the great mass of the Gandhara sculpture is of later date ; and it is exclusively Buddhist, used for the decoration of topes and sacred places. g2 84 V. Religions of India and Iran It has been discussed by various writers ; perhaps best by Mr. Vincent Smith and Herr Griinwedel. Mr. Smith makes a careful attempt to determine its date ; and after passing in review all the evidence fixes on a. d. 250-450 as its period. I think that some of it is earlier. But it is so confused in our museums, even the places whence it comes being often not recorded, that it is scarcely possible to treat it scientifically. In an excellent paper published in 1890 Mr. Smith observes that the influence it shows is that of Roman rather than Greek art. Mr. Smith, as he tells me himself, would now modify this view. The fact is that we must carefully distinguish two things (which I must observe are much confused in WickhofE's work on Roman Art), art which is Roman and art of the Roman age. That the sculpture in Gandhara belongs to the age of the Roman Empire is beyond doubt. But art in the Roman Age is still predominantly Greek. I am obliged, by want of time, to be dogmatic ; but in saying this I have the support of the most learned authority on the subject, Mr. Strzygowski. Art in the time of the Antonines, and stiU more in the time of the Severan Emperors, depends not on Rome, but on Alexandria, Antioch, Pergamon and other great Hellenistic cities. The types of the deities at Rome are purely Greek. The ideal sculpture of Roman age in the galleries of modern Rome is almost purely Greek. Even the great historic monuments of Roman victory and achievement are mainly Greek. The arch of Trajan at Beneventum, the finest monument of Imperial times, is mainly Greek. In the reign of Hadrian Greek art prevailed more and more. We have of late learned that the Pantheon of Rome, which had long passed as an example of Roman architecture, was built by a Greek of Asia Minor. From the age of Caesar to that of the Severi great Hellenistic cities like Antioch and Alexandria were centres whence the influences of Hellenism spread both east and west, veneering the native populations with a thin crust of Greek language and science and art. The more powerful nationalities, Rome, Egypt, Persia, translated the influence into their own religious and artistic forms. The sculpture of Gandhara is a gradual translation of Hellenistic art into the style of India. Sometimes the figures are almost purely Greek ; sometimes they are half Greek and half Indian ; sometimes the Indian element is overpowering. I wiU give one or two instances of each kind of mixture, taken mainly from the museum at Lahore and the British Museum.^ Perhaps the best subject in which to trace the amalgamation of Greek and Indian art is the representations of the person of Buddha. ' Instances selected from Burgess, Gandhara Sculptures : Mainly Greek, PI. iv, 2 ; xvn, 1 ; xxvi. Mixed Greek and Indian, xix, 3 ; xn, 1 ; xin, 2. 16. Greek Influences on Indian Art: , Gardner 85 In the earlier Asokan art, Buddha does not appear even in Buddhist scenes. We may compare the very early Christian art, in which Christ appears only in the person of Orpheus or the i;am-bearing shepherd. But the creation of the type of Buddha belongs to the art of Gandhara, and that type is essentially Greek. The moustache is a barbarous addition ; but the Indian artists seem to have felt that the simple severity of a Greek type suited their master better than the figures loaded with ornament, in which they usually rejoice, and which they use even for the Bodhisattvas. I fear that I must stop, before touching more than the hem of the subject. The art of early India is of great interest, and it is a matter for some shame to Englishmen that not only has its study been neglected, but that, at aU events until the proconsulate of Lord Curzon, its monuments have been destroyed and dispersed in the most reckless way. What I have tried to show, however imperfectly, is that it is a contemporary mirror of remarkable reUgious changes and development, and worthy of preservation alike from a national and a historic point of view. 17 In a Note on some Sermons of Early Buddhist Missionaries Mr, W. A. De Silva described the Buddhist missions which are mentioned in chap, xn of the Mahavamsa as being sent to Kasmira-Gandhara (the lower Kabul valley), Mahisamandala (Mysore), Vanavasi (Northern Kanara), Aparantika (North-west Coast), Maharatta (the Deccan), Suvannabhumi (Pegu), and Lanka (Ceylon) ; and showed the skUl of the various Teras (preachers) in adapting their discourses to the capacity and environment of their hearers, whom they taught through what was already familiar to them in their own early beliefs. 18 THE KALKI AVATARA OF VISNU By H. C. NORMAN (Abstract). The doctrine of the Avataras of Visnu is one of the most firmly estabhshed tenets of Hinduism, and the fundamental text uttered in the Bhagavadgita by Visnu-Krsna (iv. 7, 8), 'As often as there is a decline of virtue and an insurrection of vice and injustice in the world, I make myself evident ; and thus I appear from age to age 86 V, Religions of India and Iran for the preservation of the just, the destruction of the wicked, and the establishment of virtue ' is universally accepted as gospel throughout Hindustan. The Indian origin of the doctrine, whatever other in- fluences may have shaped its final development, has been demonstrated by Prof. Macdonell. Not only do we find in the Vedas the germs of the Avatara-theory : the sixth Mandala tells us that it was for man in distress {manave badhitaya) that Visnu thrice traversed the earthly spaces. Weber's assertion (Indische Studien, ii) of a Christian origin for the Avataras is unsupported by definite proofs. When he says that ' Kalki, especially, with Jiis white horse, can hardly be an Indian invention, as he directly contradicts the Yuga-system, which requires, or is supposed to require, a destruction of the world at the end of each Kali-yuga, but can be excellently explained from the ideas of the Gnostics, &c.', his suggestions may be in the future shown to be facts, but it seems safest to take the doctrine as Indian, until clear proof to the contrary be adduced. In the Itihasas and Puranas we find as a rule a stereotyped system of ten Avataras, ending with Buddha and Kalki. The Garuda Purana, however, after enumerating twenty-two, ending with the same two, adds that ' his Avataras are innumerable '. In other Puranas the figures go as high as twenty-four and twenty-eight, but all close with Kalki. This manifestation has peculiar interest, for it has still to take place. In a fantastic old work, Maurice's Ancient History of Hindustan, we are told that ' the Calci hero appears leading a white horse, richly caparisoned, adorned with jewels, and furnished with wings, possibly to mark the rapid flight of time. The horse is represented as standing not on terrestrial but aetherial ground, on three feet only, holding up without intermission the right foreleg, with which, say the Brahmins, when he stamps with fury upon the earth, the present period shall close, and the dissolution of nature take place.' (Compare the state- ments of the Abbe Dubois.) Turning to the Itihasas and Puranas we find in the Mahabharata that 'the twice-born one, Kalki Visnuyasas by name, impelled by Time, shall rise up of mighty courage and valour, being bom in the fair house of a Brahmana in the village of Sambhala. He shall traverse the earth, ever takiug his dehght in the slaughter of the Dasyus '. The Visnu and Bhagavata Puranas say that his father will be called Visnu- yasas. But the fullest account is to be found in the Purana (or rather Upapurana) specially devoted to the subject (Sanskrit text edited by Pandita Baladeva Prasada Misra). The work is called anvbhagavata, which would poiut to its being a sequel to the Bhagavata Purana. At the end it is said to contain 6,100 slokas ; addition gives only 1,318 ; possibly it has been cut down from a larger work. The Purana was first of all told by Brahma to Narada, through whom it was transmitted 18. The KalJd Avatara of Visnu : Norman 87 to Vyasa, and was ultimately recounted to the sages headed by ^aunaka in the Naimisa forest. The events, though future, are related in the After Krsna's departure to Vaikuntha, Kali begins to extend his power and influence, and religious and moral decline advances rapidly. The Brahmins follow after bad doctrines and neglect the sacrifices ; the limit of human life is lowered to sixteen years ; every kind of social disorder sets in. The name of Krsna is forgotten, the caste distinctions are neglected, the worship of Visnu ceases, and the gods unfed go in a body to Brahma with their complaint. Following the usual precedent, Brahma supplicates Visnu, who agrees to be born for the destruction of Kali and the salvation of the world. Accordingly he is bom in Sambhalagrama as the son of a Brahmin named Visnuyasas, with four arms, which he reduces to two. Various sages, headed by Parasu- rama come to visit him, and Kalhim kalkavinasartham avirbhutam vidur hvdhah. The young Kalki is brought up in the usual way under Para- surama, who at last tells him that he is the Avatara of Visnu, and predicts his future conquest of the earth. KaUd then praises Siva and receives from him ' a winged horse going whither it hsteth and multi- form {garudam asvam kdmagam bahurwpinam) and a parrot all-know- ing ', also 'a terrible sword with jewelled handle and of great lustre ', Siva also teUs him that mankind wiU proclaim him skilled in aU the Sastras and the use of aU weapons, consummate in knowledge of the four Vedas, and a vanquisher of all beings. Kalki then rides away with his gifts, and after giving his own people the news, goes off and converts Visakhajrupa, king of the city of Mahismati. The parrot then artfully praises Ceylon, its king and his daughter Padma, who is Laksmi incarnate, magically preserved for Kalki; who marries her, removes the curse from the wretched aspirants for her hand (they had been turned into women) and returns to begin his world-conquest in earnest. The first expedition is against the Bauddhas in Kikata. It may seem strange to find an Avatara of Visnu marching to subdue those who have been converted by Visnu himself as Buddha ; but it must be remembered that from the Paurariik point of view Visnu became Buddha in order to confound the minds of men and Asuras, and deprive heretics of the power given them by Vedic knowledge. How far history has gone by the board we can realize from the repre- sentation of Suddhodana as the brother of the Jina. A parallel is afforded in the Pauranik Nasiketiipakhyanam, where we find the Naciketas of the Katha Upanisad masquerading as Nasiketu and owing his name to his being bom from his mother's nose ! The Jina is vanquished^in battle, and the Bauddhas then invoke Maya ; which, however, unites with Kalki. Then the wives of the Bauddhas come 88 J^. Religions of India and Iran to fight, but their weapons admonish them, and they seek refuge in Visnu. After his victory Kalki slays an enormous Raksasi and her child, and then goes to Haridvara, where he meets the two kings Maru and Devapi. As he is arranging for Maru to reign at Ayodhya and Devapi at Hastinapura, a resplendent Brahmacarin comes up, who turns out to be the Krta Yuga in a bodily form. All now proceed to march on Visasana, Kali's city, and they are joined by Dharma as a Brilhmana. A great battle takes place, and Kah is driven back to his city. Kalki slays two terrible demons, and forces Kali to retire to another continent. Kalki then marches on Bhallata, the city of Sasidhvaja, a Vaisnava himself, who fights in order to win the happi- ness of being killed by Visnu. Instead of this he carries off Kalki, Krta, and Dharma to his own city, and marries Kalki to his daughter Rama. After a successful march on Kaiicanipura, Kalki distributes the various kingdoms to his friends and relations, and the golden age sets in. Visnuyasas retires as an ascetic and dies ; his wife thereupon becomes Sati. Kalki, after a lite of unrestrained pleasure and feasting, is implored by the gods to return ; he leaves his kingdom to his four sons and departs from this world ; his two wives also become Sati. The Purana is a strange jumble of featureless character, conven- tional battles, allegorical ideas, and hymns in praise of Visnu, Siva, and the Ganga. The hero has nothing but his divinity to distinguish him from the typical prince of a Kavya. His performance is nothing more than the Digvijaya of a Cakravartiraja. As regards the horse, which has been frequently compared with the white horse in Rev. xix. 11, very little is said about it. We find it once furiously kicking the two demons Koka and Vikoka without slaying them, and it also carried Kalki over to Ceylon to win his bride. Like Kanthaka, the Buddha's horse, it is only one of the appendages of the CakravartI, and seems to have most in common with the Horse-Treasure of the Mahasudassana-Sutta {Sacred Books of the East, xi, p. 255). The Kalki-Purana is apparently not very well known in India, and seems to be an expansion of the short account of Kalki at the end of the Bhagavata Purana, which is the authority generally acknowledged. The romantic details of his career do not represent any real tradition. The work is instructive as showing how a pious Bhagavata might envisage the coming of the liberator of humanity. Western writers seem to have jumped to the conclusion that Kalki must be the same as the conqueror of the Revelation ; but at any rate the Indian account gives us a developed idea of a totally different kind, whatever the germ may be. The name Kalki is derived from kalka, and would mean ' the de- stroyer of what is foul '. The Marathi variant kalamh points to the same meaning. Some (for example Ward in his ' Hindoos ') derive the word 18. The Kalld Avatara of Vimu: Norman 89 from Kali and a root hai to destroy, but this is not authenticated. The name is thus purely Indian, and furnishes another piece of evidence for the indigenous origia of this Avatara. 19 SYNCRETISM IN RELIGION AS ILLUS- TRATED IN THE HISTORY OF PARSISM By JAMES HOPE MOULTON It may, I suppose, be regarded as certain that Syncretism plays a more or less considerable part in all the more highly developed religions. The primitive beliefs of isolated and remote peoples, hke their language, their racial type, and their institutions, may be treated as approximately unmixed. But higher culture brings a higher receptivity to ideas which may be found among neighbouring peoples, even though the bias against foreign elements may forbid conscious borrowing. And as soon as conquest brings race mixture, or peaceful settlements of different tribes take place within the same area, the mixture of rehgious ideas becomes inevitable. A further cause of syncretism in rehgion is seen in the results of a deliberate propaganda. A great reformer or originator appears, and sweeps the people along into a new faith. But old ideas are not so easily got rid of ; and it soon is found that the most deep-seated of them have only changed their form, not their real nature, in being adapted to the new theory. I propose in this paper to examine the leading features of the Mazda- yasna, with a view to identify the probable source of each, and the manner of their adaptation for reception into the complex system of Parsi theology and ritual. We have first to ask what are the elements that contributed to the resultant that we know. Strictly speaking, we ought to begin with a proof that there is syncretism. But it is difficult to imagine any one seriously arguing that Parsism as we see it is a single homogeneous system which issued fully developed from Zarathushtra's brain. We shall prove our thesis best by assuming it as a working hypothesis, applying it in turn to the characteristic elements of the religion, and justifying it by its success in explaining the phenomena. The three main types of Avestan texts answer broadly to the three forces which have joined in the making of Parsism. Oldest, in essence, though not in actual composition,'^ stand the Yashts, with ' I need not turn aside to argue against Darmesteter's paradoxical rearrange- 90 V. Religions of India and Iran which may be put the Gatha HaptanghaitI and the later Yasna. This is obviously the part of the Avesta where we find the closest material correspondence with the Veda. Here come the great majority of the divinities and the reUgious ideas which we recognize as derived from the period of Indo-Iranian unity. Our test for primitive Aryan elements is a fairly easy one — we may put by the further question how many of these go back to Indo-Germanic antiquity. We do not indeed take as primitive everything which we find in our Indian and Persian sources aUke. Nasatya, for instance, does not strike us as uralt ; and if his name is found in the Avesta (F. x. 9, xix. 43) as the title of a fiend, despite the meaning, it is clearly a sign of late anti- Hindu polemic, just as Gaotema {7t. xiii. 16) marks a hostile aUusion to Buddhism.! But with these few exceptions the coincidence of Veda and Avesta is clear evidence for the pan-Aryan inheritance. There is naturally no corresponding test by which we may recognize what arose on purely Iranian ground, before Zarathushtra came ; but, to make our system complete, elements of this class would have to be allowed for. It should be added that the system of Mithraism gives us this unreformed Iranian rehgion, when stripped (as Professor Cumont reminds me) of its various accretions from Babylonia, and perhaps elsewhere. So we come to Zarathushtra. For our purpose it does not matter whether he or his immediate disciples composed the Gathas. They represent his direct teaching ; and it would be difficult to find in such remote antiquity^ clearer signs of one commanding mind showing themselves all over a reHgious system. There is a note of philosophic abstractness in the pecuUar features of Parsism, and it is mainly connected with the material that belongs to the Gathas alone. It would not surprise us on Indian soil, but in Iran it seems to stand by itself, and is most naturally interpreted by referring it to the thinker to whom parts at least of the Gathas distinctly profess to belong.^ To accept this ascription, and allow full weight to the initia- tive of a powerful and original thinker, as real a Founder as Buddha or Mohammed, seems decidedly the easiest and most reasonable explanation of the facts. ment. It is hard to believe that its lamented author would have continued to champion it against the consensus of scholarship, had he lived to see how it was received. '■ Cf. Jackson, Zoroaster, pp. 177 sq. " The great weight of the authorities who accept Professor A. V. W. Jackson's plea for the traditional date (7th-6th cent. b. c.) makes me unwilling to hold out for higher antiquity. But I wish we could add another century or two ! Jackson himseK (Zoroaster, p. 172) evidently would like to push the date back a little. ' a. Geldner in Eric. Brit." xxiv. 820. 19, Syncretism in Religion: Moulton 91 Last among the Avestan types, and very different from the others, is that which is characteristic of the Vendldad. In associating the Magi with this element it will be necessary to prolong the preface a little, and ask who the Magi were. We start from the important statement of Herodotus (i. 101) that they were one of the six tribes of the Medes.^ The mention of 'Apt^avrot {*Ariyazantava!') there as a distinct yeVos, shows that the other five were not ' Aryan '. They were Aryan in language, however, if we can trust Strabo's statement (p. 724) that the Persians and Medes, Bactrians and Sogdianians were 6/tdyA.a)TTot irapa jxiKpov. This, of course, proves nothing as to race. I postulate three strata in the population : — (1) Aryans proper, a relatively small body of immigrant conquerors from the north ; (2) people of the Mediterranean stock, who had spoken an Indo- Grermanic language from a period lying far beyond our ken, and had invaded Media generations before the Persians ; (3) aboriginal tribes, subjugated by the foregoing, and conformed in language to them. To this last division I assign the Magi. The name was not of their own choosing, any more than Graeci for the Hellenes, or Welsh for the Cymry. The supposed Semitic etymon is rejected by Noldeke and Bezold, and in form the word strongly recalls others from various Indo-Germanic sources. The old Persian Magu exactly answers to the Gothic magu ' boy ' or ' servant' { cf. our maid), Gaulish Magu-rtx, which may be interpreted by old Irish mug ' slave '. Brugmann connects Gothic matoilo ' girl ', Skt. ma,hila ' woman ', which show that the meaning ' slave ' was a derived one : the Avestan mayava ' unwedded ' points, I think, the same way. But that old Persian early adapted the word in the direction which Germanic and Keltic show, is a very easy assumption ; and ' slaves ' on the hps of Iranian conquerors may have meant very much what ' Helots ' meant from the Spartans addressing the vanquished autochthons. It wiU be obvious, therefore, why the name is avoided in the Avesta, even in those parts which, on our hypothesis, owe their main impulse to the Magi. Its solitary occmrence (Ys. Ixv. 7, a prose passage, presumably late) echoes in the compound moyu-tbis ' Magus-hater,' the memory of racial hatred which prompted the Mayo(f>6via. That Persian Fifth of November commemorated the last effort of the native population to regain power, an effort which only the genius of Darius availed to frustrate. We may well regard Gaumata's fellow victims, the expia- tion of whose ' He ' is recorded on the rock of Behistan, as insurgents in the same cause. Defeated in their struggle for temporal power, the Magi made a more successful bid for spiritual dominion ; and ' Strabo (p. 727) names nareia-xopeis and 'AxaiiuviSai and Mdyoi as inhabiting country between Susa and Persepolis. These are a-e/ivoO nvos /3iou fi/XuTai : other tribes are XijarpiKoi, and others yetopyixoi (Zoroastrians proper t). 92 F. Religions of India and Iran when the religion of Zarathushtra first came to the knowledge of the Greeks it was assumed to be essentially the religion of the Magi. It will simplify our inquiry if we reverse the chronological order and attempt first to pick out elements in Parsism which may be assigned to Magian sources. Our hypothetical reconstruction prepares us to look out for features of a lower culture and a lower range of thought. A prehminary objection might be raised, that a clan of mere shamans, despised and hated by the superior race who had but lately re-esta- bhshed their political supremacy, would not easily shp into the priest- hoods of the higher rehgion, still less infect this rehgion with the virus of their own mechanical ritual and Hfeless creed. But there are appo- site parallels for this seemingly improbable development. Professor J. G. Frazer cites for me the case of the Kurumbas in the Nilgiri Hills. These aboriginals are employed as priests by the Badagas, who dread them intensely, though strong enough to have perpetrated Mayo^ovia on a large scale when convinced that the Kurumbas were bewitching them. Similarly in New Guinea ' the Motu (immigrants) employ the Koitapu (aborigines) as sorcerers to heal their sick, to give them fine weather, &c. The aboriginals, as such, are behaved to have full powers over the elements.' We might, perhaps, compare the Assyrians sending a priest from the deported Israelites to teach their own colonists ' the manner of the God of the land ', and so save them from the plague of lions (2 Kings xvii, 25 sq,). Then we may remember that these natives had been living among the people of the higher race for generations ; and they must have had abundant opportunity to impress their claim to occult powers upon the more ignorant of their neighbours. The intrusion of the Magi was no sudden change. The dpravan and zaotar of Zoroastrianism proper held no hereditary office,^ and the Magian volunteer would at first be welcomed as an expert in ritual by neighbours who knew and dreaded his occult power. In a generation or two a usage might arise which would soon acquire prescriptive right. Now there are a few scraps of external evidence which will help us to isolate the Magi for examination apart from the Parsi system, They are found in close connexion with Babylon, where a Rab-Mag appears in 587 B.C. (Jer. xxxix. 3, 13), entirely outside Zarathushtrian conditions. There they had high reputation as astrologers and oneiromancers — the two characteristics associated with their name in Matt. ii. 1-12. Neither of these fields of occult lore is allowed to take any prominent place in the Avestan system ; while magic, which even took its name from these outstanding professors of the art, is frowned upon in the Avesta.^ Then in Ez^k. viii. 16 sq., we find ^ Geiger cites Ys. xi. 6 and x, 15. ^ Cf. the passages cited by Bartholomae, Worttrb. s. vv. yatav and pairikd. 19. Syncretism in Religion: Moulton 93 attributed to men in Jerusalem before the Exile a kind of sun-worship accompanied with the use of the barsom. This ritual cannot be Zoroastrian : the date forbids. And though haresman is a good Iranian word, it seems to have replaced something quite different expressed by a cognate barezis, Skt. barhis, the grass on which the sacrifice was laid: cf. Herod, i. 132 vTroTrao-as iroiV As dxa\o)- TaTrjv, fiaXuTTa 8e to rpCcfivXXov, Ittl raijnys eOrjKe wv iravra to. Kpia?- That the baresman was developed out of the barhis is sufficiently demonstrated by Oldenberg, i?e%. d. Veda, pp. 342 sq., where the use of the verb star, 'to strew ', is noted as a survival entirely unsuited for the barsom. It may be observed that in Yt. v. 102 Anahita apparently sits on a barezis in the old Aryan manner. ^ When then we find in Ezekiel the notice of sun-worship joined with the 'holding of the branch to the nose ', we most naturally assume the presence of a cultus which is identical with that of Parsism in its later form, but not in its earlier : this reasonably works out as a purely Magian rite, not otherwise known as detached from Parsism. The adoration of the sun is a very obvious link which would facilitate the syncretism. The spirit of the sun cult among inheritors of the old Aryan nature- worship would differ not a Httle from that of the Median aboriginal cult ; and both ahke would differ widely from the abstract and mystical sense in which Zarathushtra looked on the resplendent emblem of a deity not formed after the hkeness of any sensible object. But for the unthinking crowd it would be quite enough that the sun was adored in all three forms of faith: the subtler differences would be unseen. There are two very conspicuous usages which the ancients regarded as the distinguishing marks of Magianism. They are brought together in a sentence of Strabo (p. 735) tovs 8e Mayovs oi OdirTova-iv, aXX' oiMvolSpoyrovs eojcri" tovtov? 8e Koi p/tp'paxri crvvcp^tcrPat va/rpiov vevop-urrai. It need not be shown that the former was naturahzed in Parsism from an early date. The ritual of the Dakhma is expounded at length in the Vendidad, and it is perhaps the one distinguishing mark of the Parsis which is famihar to the man in the street to-day. But it is assuredly no original feature. Herodotus (i. 140) expressly says that But tliere are magical uses traceable in the Avesta, and due, on my theory, to the Magi : thus the use of the feather of the varenjina bird in Yt. xiv. 35. Strabo (p. 762) speaks very definitely of the prevalence of magical arts among the Persians in his time. ' With this cf. Strabo p. 732 sq. It is noteworthy in this passage that the necessary Magus does not offer the sacrifice. He only recites the deoyovtr; or Yasht, just as he does in the familiar picture in Avestan MSS., reproduced on the title-page of Geldner's Avesta — barsom in right hand, service-book in left. ' The passage is not clear enough to base any argument upon, but the barezis there may be due to reminiscence. 94 V. Religions of India and Iran it was a Magian practice, whereas the Persians covered a body with wax and buried it. Even apart from this notice — characteristic of the remarkable accuracy of Herodotus in his deUneation of Persian and Magian rehgion — we might well have assumed the custom to be no Aryan one, but indigenous in Media. The well-known difficulty as to the tombs of the Achaemenidae is most simply solved by assuming that the Magian rule was not yet adopted by the Persians : there are, of course, ways of getting round it, as Darmesteter showed, but the alternative view is more satisfactory. The same may be said of Cambyses' treatment of the corpse of Amestris (Herod, iii. 16) ; though really in this case, as in that of Xerxes' profane treatment of the sacred element water (Herod, vii. 35),i the character of the royal sinner would make a lapse from orthodoxy not very surprising. There have been Most Christian monarchs whose reputations as Fidei Defensores would be seriously imperilled if we were unreasonably particular about correlating faith and practice. Nevertheless the most probable explanation seems to be that the kings were trans- gressing only Magian orthodoxy, which had not yet entered the rehgion of the court and nobles of Persia, whatever may have been the case with the popular creed. It is antecedently improbable enough that the Achaemenidae should have yielded spiritual allegiance to Gaumata's kith and kin until time had shrouded their political activity in oblivion ; and the only open question is whether we are right in regarding these features as specifically Magian. Cambyses supphes us with a hnk with that other question. Herodotus tells us (iii. 31) that he consulted the Persian ' royal judges ' whether there was a law permitting a man to marry his sister. Their eminently judicious reply shows that they knew nothing of the Magian law which made this the very crown of good actions ; and Herodotus, a century later, records the reply without betras^ng any consciousness that the Magi stood for the principle which would have suited Cam- byses so well. His contemporary Xanthus bears express testimony to the khvetuk-das, attributing it to the Magi.^ Their successors of Sassanian times belaud the consanguineous marriage in extravagant terms which suggest that they could not easily persuade the Mazdayasnian folk to accept their dicta. It was easier to convince the royal house ; thus we find Artaxerxes Mnemon marrying his daughters Atossa and Amestris.^ The practice was kept out of the Avesta, and modern Parsis vehemently repudiate it. It seems very clear that this was a wholly Magian element, which never succeeded in attaching itself to Parsism proper. ' Of which he repented, to judge from his reverential treatment of the sea at his second ventm:e (vii, 54). • Ap. Clem. Alex. Strom, iii. 2, 11 (p. 515). ' Plutarch, AHox, 23. 19. Syncretism in Religion: Moulton 95 There is, I believe, another source from which we can deduce some characteristics of Magian religion. In a paper written some eight years ago ^ I argued that we should read the Book of Tobit as an old Median folk-lore story, rewritten by a Jew and adapted for purposes of edification, but without removing characteristic traces of its original conditions. Now it is just the Vendidad elements of Parsism which show themselves in Tdbit. The merit of burying the dead answers strikingly in its emphasis to that which it doubtless replaced in the original story, where the hero^ would accumulate great merit by removing to the dakhma a corpse that was polluting the sacred earth. That this is the meaning of the motive in Tdbit is confirmed by the appearance of the un- Jewish and apparently quite otiose dog : he is, of course, essential for the Magian ritual. The draona or ' corpse- cake ', rightly recognized by Kohut in iv. 17, is not pecuhar to Magian- ism, but is at any rate not Jewish. Then there are faint traces of the khvetuk-das, in the emphasis laid on the duty of marrjdng within the 'kinship '. Next I caU attention to the fiend Asmodaeus. His identity with Ae§ma Daeva has long been assumed. Now, though the collocation occurs in the Gathas, the real prominence of ' the fiend Violence ' belongs to the later Avesta ; and like most of the other individual fiends he belongs most probably to the Magian stratum. In Tobii he is distinctly Lust rather than Hate, though he shows the latter quality as well : he used his characteristic emblem, the ' murderous spear ', upon Tobias's predecessors. I need not repeat ■what I said about the parallels in Avesta and Shah Nameh for the story of the binding of Asmodaeus and the use of the charm which restores Tobit's eyesight. The ' seven angels who stand in the- presence ' have an obvious parallel in Parsism, and it is the only one which even faintly suggests the non-Magian side. One very important point remains. It was a serious difficulty to me in my first study of Tobit that the book has no eschatology. I see now that this is a strong confirmation of the theory I am advocating. The doctrine of im- mortality is manifestly Zarathushtra's own : what earher conceptions he built on were assuredly Aryan. It is reasonable to assume that the Magi had no more eschatology than the Babylonians and other native tribes of Western Asia. Tobit accordingly falls into line with the rest of our evidence for a Magianism untouched by Aryan reHgion. On some such lines as these we may ehminate the Magian elements in the Avesta. That this involves branding the ritual of modem Parsism as essentially alien to the Mazdayasna is an inference I should not draw. The new was assimilated to the old, and homogeneity * JExpository Times, xi. 257-60. * Necessarily with a companion, or it would have been mortal sin. Presum- ably Tobit and Tobias were in partnership for this duty. 96 V. Religions of India and Iran was achieved in the same way as in other religions which have absorbed a cultus foreign to their original constitution. I am only concerned with origins, and I think we may safely regard the Vendidad as an accretion historically, however its ritual may have domesticated itself in Parsism of later times. I pass on to the earlier strata, and ask what are the features which we may assign, to Zarathushtra himself. We naturally determine these by looking at the Gathas. We note at once the prominence of the Amesha Spenta. They and Mazda fill the whole field. Their names — especially those of Vohu Mano and Asha Vahishta — are very frequently used in such a way that we cannot feel quite sure whether there is personification or not. It looks ais though they were new conceptions in the main, as yet not much more personal than the abstract qualities which a modem minor poet will personify by the easy device of capital letters. If so, they are presumably Zarathushtra's own coinage, a motive for which it is not hard to see. The absence of the Aryan nature-spirits, headed by Mithra, is very significant, when we note .that they are back again in the Gatha Haptanghaiti, and fill the Yashts from beginning to end. They cannot have been omitted by accident. Nor were they, I think, merely ignored. The old problem of the difference between the Indian rfeva and the Avestan daeva is best solved, I venture to believe, by recognizing Zarathushtra's intention to denounce the Aryan daivas as powers of evil.^ He did not name them, and it was easy for after-generations to forget what he meant, and take the daeva to be merely evil spirits of the ordinary kind : formal sub- ordination to Ahura Mazda, as angels of his court, was a simple way of reintroducing them in all their former glory. The prophet had, however, another method of dealing with the divinities whom he was expelling from their thrones. The people were not ready for a pure monotheism. He accordingly surrounded Ahura Mazda with arch- angels who were too abstract to endanger the essence of his mono- theism. They bore the stamp of his own philosophic mind, but they were not strictly his own invention and nothing more. Professor Williams Jackson has s.hown how the Gathas retain distinct traces of the Aryan connexion of certain spheres of influence with conceptions which Zarathushtra adapted for his purpose.^ Thus Aramaiti from Aryan times watched over the Earth, and in the Gathas she seems to retain this province. She is, nevertheless, a purely abstract idea, the principle of Devotion ; and this has existed side by side with the meaning Earth from the first. It would seem that Zarathushtra fastened on certain conceptions which lent themselves to hjs purpose, retained certain harmless features which might help to popularize ' This may be combined with the suggestions of Geldner in Enc. Brit." 1. n. ' See the Orundriss der iran. Philologie, ii. 636, and references there. 19. Syncretism in Religion: Moulton 97 them, and developed the abstract element on which he mainly relied. If I am right in crediting the reformer himself with those features of Parsism which turn away from Aryan nature-cultus towards a highly abstract and spiritual reUgious atmosphere, it is natural to ask whether the name and conception of Ahura Mazda himself may not have come from the same source. It is perhaps not possible to dogmatize here, the disturbing feature being the fact that this divine name is the only characteristic of the religion which is conspicuous in the Achaemenian inscriptions. I should very tentatively propose this reconstruction. Assuming as I do that Zarathushtra's date lies well behind the age of Darius, I regard the name Ahura Mazda as his special revelation. The names he got from Aryan antiquity, but the combination and the attributes he attached were his own. It is just the element in a new religion in which the founder is Ukely to innovate. The Gathas themselves show us the prophet succeeding mainly with the royal family : the nobles and court may be assumed as following their lead. In that case may not King Vishtaspa's name have been repeated in a family of the same stock and the same rehgion, so as to reappear in Darius's father ? There may even be a contrast with the names current in the other branch of the Achaemenid house : Cyrus and Cambyses seem to have had old divine names belonging to rivers, the sacredness of which was characteristic of the old Aryan faith — Darius's father is named after the Constantine of Zoroastrianism proper.^ But this is perhaps fanciful : more to the point is the state- ment in one form of the Behistan Inscription that Auramazda was ' god of the Aryans ', with which we may couple the emphasis Darius lays on the help that Auramazda gives to him in his wars with rebels of a presumably different religion. If so, the Zarathushtrian Reform was in Darius's day almost confined to the court circles. What was the creed of the people ? * Herodotus (i. 131 sq.) gives us a classical description of the religion of the Persians, which answers with wonderful accuracy to the picture of Indo-Iranian religion as restored by the comparative method. If the ' Aryans ' in the Behistan Inscription and the 'Apt^aiToi of Herodotus are the highest caste, the royal family and the nobles, we may assume another and larger stratum of the population inheriting Indo-Grermanic speech and ideas : in race they may have been related to these ' Aryans ' and the native popula- * West's discovery that Darius in 505 b. c. reformed the calendar on Zarathush- trian lines strengthens a suspicion that it is Darius, not Cyrus, with whom the strictly Zoroastrian faith begins in the Achaemenian royal house. • Note Tide's remark {BdigionsgeschicMe, ii. 33) that Herodotus portrays the rehgion of the people, the Inscriptions that of the court, the Avesta that of the priests. 98 V. Religions of India and Iran tion respectively, much as the Perioeci in Laconia were related to the Spartans and the Helots. Now Herodotus tells us that the Persians worshipped Zeus, rhv kvkXov wavra rot) ovpavov Ala KaXfovm. It 18 generally assumed that he calls the supreme deity ' Zeus ' merely from his Greek instinct. But it is at least possible that he heard in Persia a name for the sky-god which sounded so much like ' Zeus ', being in fact the same word, that he really believed they used the famUiar name.^ This incidentally explains why the name 'Opo/nao-Sijs (Auramazda) does not appear in Greek writers until another century has passed. In Yt. iii. 13 (a metrical passage, presumably ancient) we find patat dyaos . . . Anro Mainytis, ' Angra fell from heaven ' : see Bartholomae, s.v. dyav. Since Dyaus survives in the Veda as a divine name as well as a common noun — just as dies and Diespiter in Latin — ^it is antecedently probable that the Iranians still worshipped the ancestral deity by his old name. There follows the question of Zarathushtra's responsibility for the so-called duahsm of the Mazdayasna. Towards this we may note as follows. (1) Characteristic names like Angra Mainyu and Aesma Daeva, found in the Gathas, are conceived in the same abstract style as the names of Ahura and the Amesha which we have been crediting to Zarathushtra's own mind. (2) These names do not occur in the Inscriptions, nor do they appear in Greek writers of Achaemenian times. This would seem to show that they were slow in securing a general acceptance. Such an inference would prevent us from assigning them to Aryan antiquity. There is now a rather subtle linguistic phenomenon which I venture to put forward as possibly significant. Whence came the Greek 'Apcijuavtos ? Assuredly not from the Avesta, where Angra Mainyu is always not one word but two,2 and shows a characteristic nasal in the first syllable. Qearly Old Persian is responsible. But this would require *ahramanyus, which may indeed be presumed from later forms like ahraman. Whence, then, the « in Greek ? Does it not require a feminine form *ahri- manyuS ? It seems to me that the conception of the evil spirit as female must have come from an independent source, cormected, perhaps, with the thought of the Druj, the ParsI Duessa, whose ' bad pre-eminence' throughout the Avesta may weU reflect the Aryan antiquity of the fiend Falsehood. If this suggestion is right, we have one among many survivals of the Aryan demon-world. That all three strata of Parsism contribute their quota to the ultimate demono- logy is antecedently probable. What the Magi gave may be easily * The suggestion occurred to me independently, but it was anticipated by Spiegel, Eran. Alt. ii. 190. * The same contrast meets us in 'iJpo/iao-Sijr, 'ArpoSaior, "Q^oi/rfr (Vohu Manah, in Cappadocia), 19. Syncretism in Religion: Moulton 99 conjectured. The very fact that the exact parallelism of the world of Ahriman with that of Ormazd is left imperfect, strongly suggests their work : it is not the only point, as we have seen, in which the Magi failed to acclimatize their theology entire. The hellish counter- parts of the Amesha are but shadowy conceptions, dragged in for the sake of theory, but never really living : the presence of Indra and Nasatya among them, moreover, betrays decidedly a late stage in the development. It is suggestive that Yasht xxii is a fragment : the exquisite picture of the vision of heaven is worked out completely, but something seems to have sealed the lips of that interpolator when he tried to caricature it with a mathematically exact counterpart in hell. The existence in Western Asia of dualistic systems not con- nected with Parsism is assumed by excellent authorities as supplying a background for Isa. xlv. 7, where Kohut's recognition of anti- Zoroastrian polemic is now rightly abandoned. If the Magi held such a system, we can account for all the real dualism there is in the Avesta. Zarathushtra himself built on the Aryan demonology alone, where the destructive forces of Nature were mainly promiuent, and developed especially the ethical conception of Falsehood,^ characteristic of the people whose supreme virtue was Truth. Earliest of all the world's great thinkers to wrestle with the problem of the origin of Evil, Zara- thushtra postulated on this basis a primaeval spirit that ' chose evil in thought, word, and deed ',* and interpreted life as an incessant strife between Good and Evil, to end in the eternal triumph of Spenta Mainyu and men who take his side. One special field in which sjmcretism seems to me apparent is too complex to deal with at the end of this paper. I refer to the con- ception of the Fravashis, on which I have Uttle to add to my con- clusions contained in a paper of six years ago : ^ I summarize them in a line or two. The concept is not Zarathushtra's, for he signifi- cantly ignores it in the Gathas. But the ambiguities and incon- sistencies which perplex the Avestan doctrine may be helped by recognizing two conceptions of different origins, imperfectly combined. There are the Aryan ancestor-spirits, the Vedic fitdrah, always plural, who are partly responsible for the fact that the Fravashis are always those ' of the pious ' : cf . the Manes, and the German use of sdig.^ ' The fact that Germanic (cf. Germ. Trug, our dream) agrees with the Iranian meaning of the root suggests that Sanskrit (Vedic druh) has generalized a word that meant false rather than injurious from the beginning. * y«. XXX. 5. " Journal of Theological Studies, 1902, pp. 514-27. * Geldner (Ena. Brit.' s. v. Zoroaster) gives another reason, the fact that fravashi means 'confession of faith': Justi follows him (in Orundriss, ii. 411). But the other may well have been the original reason. h2 100 V. Religions of India and Iran And there is the primitive notion of the External Soul, which may, of course, have been held by Aryans — cf .plentiful Indo-Grermanic examples of it in Frazer's Golden Bough'^ — ^but was probably brought into the Parsi system by the Magi. One other very large subject bearing on my title I must be content only to name — ^the question of Babylonian influence on Parsism. It will not, I think, add a fourth to the strata here described, and may therefore, be left for the purposes of this inquiry. 20 THE ZOROASTRIAN CODE OF GENTLEHOOD By NASARVANJI MANECKJI COOPER. (Abstract) Though I cannot lay claim to the erudition in Zoroastrian lore pos- sessed by some distinguished Parsis unable to come to Europe to attend this Congress, I have felt that, in the absence of a better representative of our race, I could not return a negative answer to requests made to me by many of my co-religionists, and also by European friends of dis- tinction, to speak here as a Zoroastrian on Zoroastrianism. I am proud to speak to this assembly on the subject of the faith which the Parsis have consistently followed in adversity as weU as in prosperity, to which they were loyal not only when it was the State religion of the Father- land, but when loyalty to conviction meant suffering, ending in death or exile ; the faith to which they cling amid aU the upheavals wrought by the direct contact of West and East in these days. The Parsis of India and the ' Gubrs ' of Persia may be but a small remnant com- pared with the number of followers of Zoroaster two thousand years ago ; but they have remained unabsorbed by other races and other faiths. Social habits may be modified to suit the changed conditions of life brought by modem civilization ; we may be amenable, in some degree at least, to the transformations now taking place in Indian political conceptions ; we may have forsaken, or at least modified, the garb rendered sacrosanct by immemorial custom. But amid these mutations the 'sacred fire' goes not out. First lighted in the pre-historic days when Iran was in the glory of her fame and power, the sacred flame has been handed on without break from generation to generation, from fire-temple to fire-temple, and bums to-day in the land of our origin and the land of our adoption, as also in other ' iii. 352-75. 20. I'he Zoroastrian Code of Gentlehood : Cooper 101 lands ■whither Parsis have gone, ever being consumed yet not con- sumed — the symbol both of the indestractibihty of the lamp of Truth, and of the eternal authority and rule of its Author. The sacred fire in the Atesh Bahram (holy of hohes) in each Parsi temple stands for a lofty conception of the Divine Being and of man's relation to Him. From the magnitude of the work Zoroastrianism has accompUshed in the promotion of human culture (and culture — the moderation and considerateness, and the truth and sincerity of educated men and women in the various relations and concerns of life — being the practical form in which the quaHties and reality of our religious faiths manifest themselves), it becomes an interesting inquiry to learn from an examina- tion of such rules of life as are scattered through the religious books of the Zoroastrians or ancient Persians what is the Parsi code of gentlehood. I must pass by the spiritual side of Zoroastrian lore, its insistence upon reverence, thanksgiving, prayer, and praise, as their discussion would be beyond the limits of my task, and must deal only with ' the whole duty of man ' in relation to his fellows, as an outcome of those behefs. This duty was set forth by our Prophet in Three Words which remain unaffected by the mutations of the ages as they pass — Humata, Hukhta, Hvarshta — Good Thoughts, Good Words, Good Deeds. Upon these great watch- words the whole ethical system expounded in the Zend-Avesta and other sacred writings is based. In comprehensiveness and reach they compare with the moral standard set by the Hebrew prophet of old : ' And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ? ' (Mic. vi. 8). Ceremonial purity has its place in Mazdaism, but, as in the intention of the Mosaic law, it is to be secondary and symbolic. The practical appUcation of the Three Words is not left to the varying standards of differing ages and chmes. The moral teaching of which they are the core runs through our sacred writings, and is applied, clearly and decisively, to all our relations of life. The difference between good and evil thoughts and actions is not left in doubt or to be solved by the unaided ' inner light '. Evil actions are enumerated and condemned ; while conversely moral virtues are enjoined, and promised both present and future rewards, the latter as a certainty the former as a probability. Virtue is a garment of honour while wickedness is a robe of shame. But the motives with which virtue is practised are not to be those of sordid and calculating self-interest. Intentions, as well as deeds, are weighed by the Almighty, and must be pure to be acceptable with Him. Nor is there to be faithless repining when, in spite of sober and righteous living, the sorrow 102 V. Religions of India and Iran and BufEering so closely woven in the fabric of life overtakes a worthy man. I lay some stress upon the spiritual ends and aims of our moral philosophy in order to show that i£ there be warrant for the com- plaint that prosperity in these modem days has tended to make the Zoroastrians of Bombay too materiahstic, the fact remains that that deadening spirit is expressly reprobated in our sacred literature. The Domestic Virtttes In passing from the general and abstract to the particular, I cannot do better than begin with family life. Though a man has duties to himself, as the code of Zoroaster fully recognizes, he does not and cannot ' live unto himself alone '. The working out of his moral nature is in the main determined by his conduct towards others with whom he is brought into contact ; and those relationships begin in the family and the home. The Western ideals of home life were embodied in aU essentials in the rehgious beUefs of Iran at a time when the Britons were still in the darkness of savagery and jdol-worship. In the teachings of the great Prophet of Iran the home is rightly made the centre and nursery of the domestic virtues, the place where ' gentlehood ' is cultivated. Zoroastrianism teaches the regulation, not the crucifixion, of natural instincts and appetites. It knows not the philosophy which ' forbids to marry '. On the contrary, the married state is recommended as calculated to promote a religious and virtuous lite. Prostitution and sins of lust are unsparingly reprobated, whether committed in the married or single state. Dread- ful doom is pronounced upon those who commit sodomy and other unnatural offences. The wife is required to ' obey ' her husband, as in the AngHcan marriage service ; but the whole spirit of our sacred writings, confirmed by what we know of the history of ancient Iran, points to the equality of the wife in social status with her husband, and to perfect liberty of action on her part. The duties of the husband and father are laid down with minuteness. He has to keep himself in good health and to pay attention to matters of sanitation affecting the health of those belonging to him. On its sanitary side, it may be remarked, the Zoroastrian code is as striking in its wisdom and completeness as the Mosaic law; and many of the so-called 'ceremonial' practices are, in reality, enjoined to promote the physical well-being of the community. The husband must be valiant in protecting and preserving his family from outside violence; and he must be industrious, in order to provide them with the necessaries and comforts of life. The Parsi mother is invariably devoted to her children ; and the father is also required by his religion to look 20, The Zoroastrian Code of Gentlehood : Cooper 103 after their spiritual and temporal education. He has to bring them up well prepared to fight the battle of life with perseverance, diHgence, honesty, and integrity. It is scarcely necessary to say that in a religion emphasizing the domestic virtues, obedience and love of parents is inculcated. Business Relationships The Mazdian Scriptures give no countenance to the false weight or the unjust balance. Rectitude of business dealing is most strictly and expressly enjoined. Included among the most heinous sins is that of the man who ' consumes anything which is received into his custody, and becomes an embezzler ' ; or who ' commits oppression to make the things of others his own '. Even the too common practice of neglecting to return a loaned article is reprobated ; and its non- return after it has been asked for is bluntly denominated as ' robbery '. Industry and thoroughness in business life are again and again in- culcated, and as all the world knows have been practised with good effect in modem times in all parts of India. No race of mankind can compare in affluence with the Parsis of Western India in proportion to' their numbers, and in the vast majority of cases the wealth of our rich men has been obtained by business enterprise within the last hundred years. Truthfulness No attentive reader can fail to notice the frequency with which in our sacred books truth is extolled and falsehood, with its evil brood of slander, malice, envy, and uncharitableness, is condemned. Asked whether living in fear and falsehood is worse than death, the Spirit of Wisdom emphatically answers in the affirmative. The con- test between good and evil, truth and falsehood, knows no truce or cessation, and the Zoroastrian is commanded to take an active and diligent share therein. Benevolence Our code of ' Gentlehood ' does not stop at rectitude : it stirs the heart to pity and the hand to help. Truth, thankfulness, contentment, are placed high in the category of ' ways and motives of good deeds whereby people arrive most at heaven ', but the first place therein is given to benevolence. 'The first good work,' said the Spirit of Wisdom, 'is liberality.' It should be noted, however, that in the com- mendation of one virtue care is taken not to minimize the importance of other worthy qualities. When the pilgrim fathers of the Indian Parsis landed at Sanjan in Guzerat, they sent a dastur to Jadi Rana, the Hindu ruler of the country, seeking permission to settle there. Responding to a demand 104 V. Religions of India and Iran from the Raja for information as to their usages and customs, the most learned of the Persians drew up sixteen slokas or distichs, one of which declared : ' We are enjoined to be liberal in our charities and especially in excavating tanks and weUs.' In those times of almost exclusive occupation in tillage of the soil this was a very practical and useful form of liberality. In these modem days of industrial development the liberality of the Parsis has taken a wider range. There is no com- munity in the world so well provided for by organized charities and institutions, in proportion to its size, as our own. The communal funds for education, helping the unfortunate or indigent or aged, maintaining dokhmas and fire-temples, meeting exceptional calamities, providing hospitals and dispensaries, &c., amount to many lakhs of rupees, aU subscribed by freewill offerings from the well-to-do. Affluent Indian Parsis have also been generous towards their co-religionists in Persia, a people physically more robust than ourselves, but poor and misruled. But the Parsis have not confined their benevolence to their own kith and kin. Evidences of public munificence and catholicity of charity abound on every hand in Bombay and other cities in which they dwell. The fame of the munificence and large- hearted benevolence of the first Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy was so world-wide that he was the first Asiatic to receive the freedom of the City of London and to be honoured with a baronetcy of the United Kingdom. ' No matter how distant the land or how different the race of people, his sympathetic heart was always moved by their mis- fortunes, and his purse was opened in order to reheve them,' and in this tespect he has had many successors in the community. The Treatment of Animals The spirit of benevolence extends to the brute creation. While recognizing the need for slaughtering animals for human food, the Zoroastrian philosophy prescribes the kinds of animals and birds fit for the purpose, and gives directions as to humane and expeditious methods of killing them. Slaughter for mere pleasure is strongly discountenanced. Conclusion Of the duties of citizenship, such as loyalty to the Government and readiness to defend one's country, and indeed of many other virtues inculcated ia our Scriptures, I have no time to speak. Any- thing like an exhaustive enumeration of the practical morality of our sacred hterature is impossible within the limits of a suigle paper ; for there seems to be no failing of temper or of conduct to which the children of men are prone that is not dealt with in the searching, if widely scattered, injunctions to Zoroastrianism. 21 DEMETRIUS GALANOS THE GREEK INDOLOGIST By J. GENNADroS I VENTURE to occupy your attention with the life work of one who, born in Athens, my own native city, repaired at an early age to Constantinople — the seat of the great institution of intellectual activity of the Greeks in the Near East, which I have the honour to represent among you — and thence migrated to India, to end his days in the sacred city of Benares, absorbed in the study of Sanskrit litera- ture, and conforming to the rule of Hfe of the Brahmans. If the important contributions to the history of rehgions made by this remarkable man are not very generally known, the reason may perhaps be sought both in the fact that modern Greek literature is only now beginning to be studied abroad, and in the extreme modesty and the retiring disposition of Galanos himself. For, although one of the earliest and ablest pioneers of Indology, he personally laid no claim to any literary achievement, he pubhshed nothing during his lifetime, but followed the dictates of true philosophy — not a self- asserting philosophy, practised as some kind of craft, and proclaimed by the working of marvels ; but such as Plutarch ^ so pithily defines, after the models of Socrates and Pythagoras and Arcesilaus and Carneades. They did not pass their lives in the elaboration of axioms, nor in the refinement of syllogisms. But they were acknowledged and honoured as philosophers for the wise words they spoke, the lessons they taught, and, above all, for the manner of life they themselves led ; thus setting the example of a pure, unselfish, unpretentious, blameless existence, benevolent to all men, tolerant of all things, save wrong of any kind. Such, indeed, was the life of our Demetrius Galanos. He was bom in 1760, the second son of well-to-do Athenian parents. His elder brother had died in childhood ; while the third and youngest cultivated the family estates, and named his own son (to whom we shall have occasion to refer again), after their grandfather, Pantoleon. Demetrius, on the other hand, gave early proof of an extraordinary aptitude for letters. The pursuit of letters and the service of the Church were then the only liberal careers open to the best and noblest of the enslaved Greeks. To an afEectionate and gentle disposition, Galanos joined an inquiring, reflective, and critical mind ; and he * Of the Fortune or Virtue of Alexander, i. 4. 106 V. Religions of India and Iran soon distinguished himself in the public school of Athens, then under the direction of the renowned Athenian nobleman and philanthropist, Joannes Benizelos, my own maternal great-great-grandfather. Of this Benizelos it is recorded that, making use of his great influence with the Turkish masters of the city, he obtained permission to visit freely the awful dungeons in which prisoners were left in those days to rot and perish by slow degrees. He read to them the Scriptures, and as no one was allowed to bring them succour, he divested himself, on each visit, of his fresh underwear, and left the dungeon wearing the vermin-infested rags of the wretched prisoners, whose misery he had thus in a measure relieved. With this example of his beloved master before him, the altruistic tendencies of young Galanos were kindled and confirmed ; and his devotion to Greek learning was such that at the age of fourteen he had acquired aU that the primitive educational resources of Athens, at that time, could offer him. He was therefore sent to Mesolonghi, where Panagiotes Palamas was then lecturing, and thence to the even more flourishing school in the island of Patmos, under its famous master, the monk Daniel Kerameus. At the end of six years spent at Patmos, his uncle, Gregory, Bishop of Caesaria, and Primate at that time of the Holy Synod at Constanti- nople, sent for the young Demetrius, of whose rare attainment and moral quahties he had become cognizant. He urged him to take Holy Orders ; but though this step, with the patronage of his influential uncle, would soon have led him to some episcopal see, Galanos declined, being determined, as he said, to devote his life to the study of Greek literature and philosophy. And he remained at Constantinople, eking out a precarious existence by giving lessons in Greek. The development of Greek trade, the revival of letters among the enslaved Greeks, and the consequent awakening of the national con- science, which prepared and ushered in the War of Liberation of 1821, were then in full activity. Many Greeks had carried their enterprise as far as India ; and in Calcutta and Dacca there had already been established small, but flourishing, Greek communities. With character- istic tenacity of national traditions, the members of those communities desired that their children should be brought up in their mother- tongue ; and for this purpose Constantino Pantazes, the chief of the Calcutta community and a native of Adrianople, wrote to his corre- spondent at Constantinople to send out to them a Greek teacher. This correspondent was a friend of Bishop Gregory, to whom he submitted the request of the Greeks at Calcutta. It was thus that Demetrius Galanos was chosen to carry to the young Greco-Indians the torch of ancestral learning, and to send back to Greece a reflex of the Light of Asia. His first act was to remit to his poor relatives 21. Demetrius Galanos: Gennadius 107 at Athens the small sum he had managed to save ; and he started on his mission, visiting on his way the monastery at Mount Sinai, and continuing his journey by way of Bassorah. On his arrival at Calcutta in 1786 he lodged with Pantazes; and while teaching the young Greeks their mother-tongue, he devoted his leisure to the study of English, and the mastery of Sanskrit, Persian, and the native idioms of India, in which he soon became so proficient that he was able to enter into intimate converse with Hindus of all races and castes. In seeking to establish close relations with the natives, that which assisted him most was not only, his linguistic proficiency and erudition, but the fame which rapidly spread among them of his sterling character, his lofty mind, and the rule of life he had set to himself, living up to the highest ideals of moral purity and rectitude. Both his own countrymen, the Enghshmen who came into contact with him, and the erudite Hindus, with whom he loved to discuss philosophical topics, soon learned to look up to him as to a man of extraordinary attainments and rare worth. His early tendencies, and the more intimate searching investigations which had latterly occupied his mind, finally determined the rest of his life. At the end of the sixth year of his residence in Calcutta, he resigned his post, bade farewell to his Greek friends, deposited his scanty savings with one of them, that the small yearly income might be remitted to him, and retired to Benares, there to devote himself exclusively to the study of Sanskrit literature and Hindu philosophy, adopting the dress of the Brahmans, and strictly conforming to their mode of life. Thus he lived for forty consecutive years, to the day of his death. But those years were spent, neither in the passivity of mere con- templation, nor in estrangement from what is. dearest to human kinship, nor in forgetfulness of fatherland and faith. We shall see that his literary activity marks a most important stage in Indian studies. And in his life we have a unique instance, and an edifying example, of the adoption of Hindu yogaism, without that hardness and arrogance; and monastic egotism which tends to view the sur- rounding world with indifference and contempt — one might almost say with hatred. His human tenderness for his far away kinsmen and compatriots, his burning love for his native city, his perfervid hopes for the liberation of the fatherland, his broad-minded interest in the Orthodox Church, remained to the end unimpaired, fresh, and refreshing. To the last he was in heart and mind a Christian, a European, and a true Hellene. Of this there can be no more conclusive evidence, no more touching proof, than his letters from Benaxes, a considerable number of which are still extant, some pubhshed ; especially those addressed to the 108 V. Religions of India and Iran Archimandrite Gregory, Chaplain of the Greek Church at Calcutta, and those -written to his nephew Pantoleon Galanos. 'pt The latter he invited to India, intending to return with him to Athens, that he might lie down to his last sleep in the bosom of his native land. Pantoleon arrived at Calcutta and was on the point of starting for Benares when his venerable uncle died, after a short iUness. He was buried in the English cemetery at Benares, and the following simple inscription in English may be read over his tomb : Sacbbd TO THE Memory of Demeteius Galanos AN Athenian who died at Bbnabbs IN THE East Indies on the 3ed of May 1833 AGED 72 YEAES. Galanos's bosom friend and Master, the Brahman Satoul Sing, also inscribed over his tomb an epitaph in Hindi, which may be rendered as follows : — ' Woe, a hvmdred times woe ! Demetrius Galanos has left this world to reside in the eternal abodes. With tears and waiUng I have cried out, ah me ! by grief demented. He is gone, alas, the Plato of this age.' By his will, with the exception of small legacies to his Brahman friends and his Hindu servant, he left the whole of his estate, amount- ing to some three thousand pounds, to be divided equally between his nephew and the University of Athens, to which institution he bequeathed also his Sanskrit library and all his papers and manu- scripts. These manuscripts may be roughly classed under two headings : (a) translations from Sanskrit and Hindustani into Greek ; and (6) drafts of several vocabularies and dictionaries, such as Pali-Greek, Persian-Hindi-Greek-English, and Sanskrit-Greek. The most impor- tant of these, unpublished, is the last named, containing as it does many words which are there recorded for the first time, culled from Sanskrit works which he first explored. This is the opinion of the eminent Orientalist, Professor Albrecht Weber, who, when in Athens, examined the collection and took extensive notes, which he utihzed in supplementing Boehtlingk and Roth's great Sanskrit Dictionary. The manuscript translations remained for some fourteen years untouched. But in 1841 the Ephore of the National Library, G. Kozakis Typaldos, assisted by the Keeper of Printed Books, G. ApostoHdes, commenced editing and pubHshing a series which in 1853, resulted in seven octavo volumes. Neither of the editors was, properly speaking, a Sanskrit scholar ; but they made an ad hoc study 21. Demetrius Galanos : Gennadius 109 of the subject, and they very prudently addressed themselves for advice and guidance to the most eminent German and French Orien- talists of that time. They submitted to them portions of the transla- tions in proof, and they invited criticism before pubHcation. They were thus enabled to preface introductions dealing with the subject- matter of each volume. These introductions are of considerable merit and abihty. I may here observe that the Greek style adopted by Galanos in his translations, without being stilted or pedantic, is pure and scholarly, and the text is accompanied by footnotes of great value, bearing witness to his erudition and to the frame of mind with which he approached his object in view. Such, in general lines , is the character of the work. The limited time at my disposal will not allow me to do more than give a very succinct account of the contents of those seven volumes. The first, entitled by the editors, ArjixrjrpLOV TaX.avov 'AdrjvaCov 'IvSikwv iJi,era(f>pd(rto)V IlpoSpo/ios (Forerunner of the Indian translations of Demetrius Galanos, the Athenian), consists of five of the minor, but not the least important, pieces rendered into Greek : (a) Ethical sentences and allegories of Batrihari the King ; (6) Of the same, counsels con- cerning the vanity of this world ; (c) PoHtical, economic, and moral precepts, culled from various poets ; (d) Synopsis of sentences and precepts of Sanakea,^ the morahst and philosopher ; (e) Zagannatha Panditaraza's ^ allegories, examples, and similes. Galanos's attachment to the fatherland, and constant sohcitude for the welfare of his countrjnmen, is again attested by the fact that of the translation of Zagannatha, mentioned above, he had sent home in 1830 an earher copy through the Archbishop of Athens, Neophytus, with the following inscription : ' To the Eminent Signor Joannes Capodistrias, President and Governor of Greece, Demetrius Galanos the Athenian sends, as a present from India, this excellent allegorical manual of Zagannatha the Brahman, translated into Greek for the benefit of the young philologists of the Greek race. From the Holy City of Kassis, known also as Benares.' ^ The second volume, published in 1847, contains ' The Balabharata ', or synopsis of the MaMbharata. The third comprises the Gita, which Galanos calls ®ta-7ricrLov Me'Xos, a name adopted by Schlegel in ' This name is, I believe, variously spelt Qaunakas, Canakjas, Tchanakaya. I have adopted the form ia which Galanos has transliterated the Indian names into Greek. ' Jagannatha Panditaraja. ' Galanos often makes use of the ancient name of the holy city, Katrcrf;, from its reputed founder (1200 B.C.) Kasi Baja (=the resplendent). By an ingenious combination of a Greek synon3r[n, (pavepde, of this adjective with the more recent name Benares, he dates, on October, 1832, « iavepaa-iov. His will, written only three days before his death, is dated ck Bevapcs. But in his translations he generally uses the form Bapavaa-rj (Varanasi). 110 V. Religions of India and Iran his edition of the poem. The fourth volume is devoted to KalidSsa's Baghu-Vamsa. The fifth to the Itihasa-Samutchaya. The sixth embraces the Hitofodesa ; and the seventh the Durga. It was intended that it should also include the BJidgavata Purana ; but funds were lacking, so that this and a few other translations remain still inedited. There exists as yet no complete and connected account of the life of Galanos, nor any due appreciation of the published portion of his works — of this unique body of Indian translation done by one man ; and the present paper is but a condensed abstract of a more detailed work which I hope will soon appear. It is a remarkable fact that although he lived more than forty-five years in British India and was known to many of the foremost Anglo-Indians of his time, there appears to be no mention of him or of his work in any of the likely English sources of such information. At all events my diligent search has, thus far, revealed none.^ I need hardly say that outside Greece it is the Germans who, of course, know most about him ; while the only French comment I have met with (that of M. Jules Mohl in the Journal Asiatique of July, 1846) is noteworthy for statements and appreciations somewhat strange. He makes out Galanos to have been a merchant, and to have forsaken commerce for the life of a Brahman ; and he adds : — ' Galanos parait avoir cherch6 k Benares plut6t la sagesse, comme la cherchaient les anciens, que le savoir, comme I'entendent les modernes ; et ses manuscrits sont probable- ment plutot une curiosity litt^raire qu'un secours pour I'^rudition.' This was not the opinion of Professor Albert Hoefer, who in the Zeitschrift fur die Wissenschaft der Sprache (1850) takes to task his French confrlre, and extols the scholarly and conscientious character of Galanos's work. Professor Hoefer had already reviewed the first two volumes in the Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenlandischen Gesell- schaft (vol. i, 1846) ; and later (vol. xxiii, 1869) Dr. Heinrich Uhle referred to these translations with great praise. In the Jahr- bucher fur unssenschaftliche Kritik (No. 51 and 52 of 1846) Professor Hoefer compares former attempts with the achievement of Galanos, which he characterizes as a colossal monument of untiring endurance and patient devotion — a work of permanent value and helpfulness to Indologists. Finally, I may adduce the opinion of Professor Theodor Benfey who, in reviewing the TIpoSpo/jM^ in the Gottingische gdehrte ' The only English comment I know of is that mentioned by the Editors who, having sent proofs of the Gita translation to Mr. Clark, the then Secretary of the Royal Asiatic Society, received from him a letter saying that ' in reading the translation he felt as if one soul had been parted in twain and set at the two ends of the world, in Greece and in India, each one meditating on the same great philosophical issues '. 21. Demetnus Galanos: Gennadius 111 Anzeigen (1846, pp. 1095-1104), says that Galanos's versions now make clear many passages which remained inexplicable riddles for former translators, and render possible, not only the correction of corrupt texts, but the explanation of many parts of Indian mythology and religion, which hitherto were not understood ; that this was due to the unrivalled knowledge which Galanos had of the languages and the peoples of India ; but more especially to the fact that he had won the intimate friendship and confidence of the Brahmans as no other European had ever done before him, and that he was thus enabled to obtain from them much that was jealously preserved by oral tradition only. Benfey and also Professors A. Weber and Christian Lassen consider Galanos's translation as a great ornament of modern Greek literature ; and German critics generally point out the fact that several of these translations were never before attempted in any European language, while of others the original texts were not even known to exist. But it is not only the faithfulness and excellence of the translations which are so remarkable. Even a casual reader would be struck by the great value of the notes constituting, as they do, a veritable store- house of Indian lore. They interpret allegories, supply historical data, elucidate mythological traditions ; explain the names and the attri- butes of Indian deities, give parallel passages from Greek philosophers ; account for obscure beliefs and popular sayings. Even the termino- logy of botany and zoology in India is made clear and easily con- ceivable ; and of several passages he gives also a paraphrase, thus investing in a beautiful and lucid Greek form many a mystical passage of Oriental phraseology. And with it all he joins a playful humour, showing that he never succumbed to the dark and oppressive morbidity of Asiatic asceticism. For instance, he writes to his friend, the Orthodox Archimandrite Gregory, who was sailing from Calcutta for Constantinople : ' I pray both the Ocean-Lord Poseidon and the Indian Varuna to give thee fair voyage, going and returning.' As in his correspondence we have a faithful portrayal of the intensely human and lovable side of his nature ; so in his notes we see evidence of a well-balanced mind, of a calm judgement, of a rare critical faculty. He is in love with the subject to which he devoted his life. But he has not been enslaved by that love. We do not find in him what we often observe in enthusiastic devotees to some special branch of art or literature, or to the works of some particular author, who gradually lose the faculty of reasoning, and become bhnd, I had almost said fanatical, worshippers of their idol. Galanos's studies did not over- whelm his judgement : they did not enslave his mind. He remained their master. His early training in the writings and the philosophy of the Greeks, made it possible for him to maintain a critical attitude ; 112 V. Religions of India and Iran while his clearness of vision enabled him to appreciate to the full all that is lofty and true and beautiful in the literature of India. He was aware that in that land of abnormal extremes belief in the marvellous and the terrible exercises an irresistible fascination over its inhabitants. He understood that this was mainly due to the physical surroundings. As Buckle says,^ in comparing Indian with Greek evolution : ' In the great centre of Asiatic civiUzation the energies of the human race are confined, as it were intimidated, by the surrounding phenomena ... all teaching Man of his feeble- ness and his inabihty to cope with natural forces . . . The tendency of the surrounding phenomena was, in India, to inspire fear ; in Greece, to give confidence.' Hence those monstrous and terror- inspiring divinities, which breathe fire and revel in blood. Galanos was aware that besides these disturbing physical conditions the inhabitants of that land had laboured from time immemorial under three fatal circumstances. They had never known liberty : the whole peninsula had repeatedly been overrun and subjugated by alien conquerors. Their political thraldom had been aggravated by an all-pervading sacerdotahsm. Finally, they were handicapped by a complex system of castes, which checked progress and made develop- ment impossible. In presence of such conditions a highly trained and cultured intellect like that of Galanos, balanced and fortified on the one hand by an inquiring mind, and on the other by a tolerant and altruistic disposition, could but seek to separate the wheat from the chaff. He discerned and adopted all that was pure in Hindu teaching. But he rejected metaphysical fantasies ; he could not regard philosophy from a fantastic and quasi-religious aspect. In philology he was too well grounded to Hsten with anything but a smile to such puerile derivations as ' Pythagoras from Bvddha-guru, teacher of knowledge '. Nor could he adhere to irrational theories and extravagant super- stitions, such as can be acceptable only to an inteUigence absolutely untrained in logic, or to theurgic and divinatory rites, which must ensure the dissent of those who conceive moraHty aright, and extend goodwill to all men, in all truth, and in all honesty. Galanos had before him the advice which the upright and judicious Eusebius, the Neo-Platonist, gave to his young pupil and friend Julian, when he related to him the magical and theurgic wonders of the charlatan Maximus : ' Astonished for the nonce by that theatrical miracle-maker, we left. But thou, do not marvel at all, even as I did not ; but rather consider how great a matter is purifica- tion by means of reason.' ' History of Civilization, i. 125-7. 21. Demetrius Galanos: Gennadius 113 The Count Goblet d'Alviella, in his Ce que I'Inde doit a la Grece, has shown to what a remarkable degree the regenerating flame of Ancient Greece had penetrated into the heart of Asia, and influenced the science and art of India. It is the continuity of that Greek tradition, the love of inquiry and enlightenment, which has bequeathed to the learned world the life work of Demetrius Galanos. SECTION VI KELIGIONS OF THE GEEEKS AND ROMANS i2 PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS By SALOMON REINACH Afper having duly acknowledged the honour of presiding over this Greco-Roman section of our Congress, it would perhaps be my duty, before we set to work, before we hear and discuss new contributions to our knowledge, to present this audience with a condensed report of the progress of scientific study in Greek and Roman religion since the last Congress held at Basel in 1904. It was, indeed, my intention to do so ; but reflection has taught me that if such a resume should be useful, it must be very long, and that, if short, it would only bring to your hearing a series of names and titles, more interesting to the crude bibliographer than to the student of religion and mythology. Only a few weeks ago. Dr. Gruppe, of Berlin, has put together, in a stately volume of 650 pages, the abstract and criticism of the work done in our field from 1898 to 1905. Now, from 1905 to this day, the activity of philologists and archaeologists has been, even more than in the preceding period, devoted to topics of classical mythology and religion ; such books as Dr. Farnell's Cults of the Greek States (vols, iii and iv), as Dr. Frazer's Early History of Kingship and Adonis, as Prof. Toutain's Cultes pdiens dans V Empire romain, as Prof. Cumont's Seligions Orientates, not to mention many others of importance, cannot possibly be summed up in a few pages, nor appre- ciated with due regard without a rather full consideration of the general ideas which characterize or underlie their authors' views. So I must be content with submitting to your kind appreciation a few remarks about the actual tendencies of our studies, in the measure in which I feel capable of forming a personal estimate about the huge literature which books and periodicals in many languages are continually pouring forth for our benefit. It seems to me that it would be very premature to chant a De Prqfvndis on the wrecks of the exegetical methods and theories which were flom-ishing twenty years ago. Though it be evident that the so-called anthropological school is steadily gaining ground and is more sympathetic to younger scholars than any other, the different systems based on euhemerism, on ancestor-worship, on solar and astrological myths, can by no means be considered as discarded. 118 FI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans Prof. Tylor's animistic theory is now, I believe, universally admitted ; but the upholders of more recent ones are still engaged in warfare. I have even been struck of late by some symptoms of reaction against the extensive use of anthropological documents and the comparative method on a large scale, which strives to elucidate the problems; of Greek and Roman mythology by adducing evidence from the beliefs and customs of savage peoples. Dr. Farnell is decidedly adverse to the idea of Greek totemism ; Prof. Toutain seems generally diffident about the admissibility of far-reaching comparisons ; even my lamented friend. Prof. Dieterich, in his memoir on the origin of the Greek theatre, which has been published after his untimely death, entered a protest against the use of analogy, as advocated, in the present instance, by Dr. Preuss, and, paraphrasing the credo of the Moslim, wrote that there is but one great god, Dionysos, and one artist superlatively great, Aeschylos. Benan used to speak of what he called the Greek miracle, meaning by that an effort of human genius which had occurred only once in history and remained un- paralleled. The anthropological school naturally admits differences in quality, but is not ready to hoist the Greeks, or the Hebrews, or any other people, out of the reach of the laws which preside over the evolution of the human mind. If Dieterich did not proffer such a heresy, he seems at least to have felt some inclination towards it. More than that. In spite of the close parallels supplied by the mediaeval origins of our modem theatre in Europe, which enables us to dispense with Pawnee or Japanese examples, he would not admit that the sufferings of the slain god Dionysos claim any part in the genesis of Greek tragedy. Of course, I do not mean to discuss the views which he has expounded with his usual insight and scholar- ship ; I only note, as a warning against onesidedness, that Dieterich himself, one of the writers who has most strongly vindicated the religious import of Orphism, has sought in a quite different line the explanation of facts which the belief in the high antiquity of Orphic ideas seems readily to supply. Indeed, it is possible that future inquiry, and a more comprehensive appreciation of the mass of literary work done in the first years of this century, may lead to the conclusion, already hinted at by more than one scholar, that Orphism, as well as totemism, has become a hobby, and an overridden hobby too. Being conscious of havinw been myself one of the roughriders, I do not yet feel disposed to apologize nor to recant ; but what history teaches us about the rapid growth and the no less rapid decline of systems must always be present to our minds when we believe that we have struck the truth 1. President'' s Address: Salomon Reinach 119 at its very root. Cadent qum nunc sunt in honore, said the poet, and he also said, in the same strain, Multa renascentur. These last words occur to my memory when I witness the actual revival of the hypotheses on astral mythology, the Astralmythen. No doubt, such unscientific stuff as Dupuy's Origine de tous les cultes is discredited for ever; but some of Dupuy's favourite ideas are making their way upwards again, in a more scientific habit, of course, though occasionally with not more soberness. The question is rife : what is the bearing of primitive astrology and star-worship on the formation of Oriental and Greek myths ? We may, for the moment, answer by a mm liquet, but it is certain that the learned work of Prof. Bouch^- Leclercq on Greek astrology, the publication of forgotten astrological treatises by Prof, Cumont and his admirable lectures at the College de France, where the religious importance of astrology has been so forcibly emphasized, cannot fail to make us once more turn our eyes to the starry heavens, after we have, perhaps, dwelt too exclusively on the earthly and psychological elements of cult and myth. Whatsoever new theories and new moods of thought the near future may hold in store for us, it seems impossible that the well- trodden ground, conquered and explored by the schools of such pioneers as Mannhardt, McLennan, and Robertson Smith, will ever be considered as delusive fairy land and abandoned by science to dilettantism. Facts have been collected, parallels have been traced by thousands, which no evolution of scientific principles can nullify. New facts and parallels may be, and must be, collected, in altogether different provinces of human thought, and give rise to new interpreta- tions which may seem preferable to the former ones ; but knowledge added to knowledge is never destructive ; the day must come when it will prove constructive and enable us to frame some more complete synthesis, founded on a broader and richer survey of religious facts. When the scholars of the nineteenth century created the compara- tive philology of Aryan, Semitic, and Romance languages, their first enthusiasm was content with noting down and heaping up analogies bearing on the vocabulary and syntax of these connected idioms. Then, about 1880, a school began to rise which insisted more upon the differences, the real or apparent irregularities, and strove to account for them by perfecting or remodelling the general principles of inquiry. Something of the same sort is going on just now in the more recently explored dominions of comparative religions and mythologies. As M. Van Gennep has aptly observed, we now possess enormous storehouses of analogies, the famous works of English scholars, such as Mr. Frazer and Mr. Sidney Hartland, being the 120 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans best known and the best digested of all. Of course, the treasure is not exhausted, and many more gold nuggets, or, I would say, more twigs of the golden bough, may still be collected in the recesses of folklore and primitive custom; but the hour has come when we must go beyond the analogies and the pleasure their discovery causes us ; we must take up the study of differences, which, comparable, in that respect, to the variations of phonetic laws, should, when care- fully investigated, give a key to many a delicate lock as yet neglected in the vast storehouse of our knowledge. Even confined to the comparative study of Greek and Roman religions, that more refined or fastidious method leads to new results, by compelling us to distinguish between kindred phenomena which have sometimes been thrown together, and unduly bear what I would call the same label. ' I wiU not detain you any longer with these rather vague con- siderations about method. The scientific value and soundness of a method becomes apparent by its effects only, and a convincing memoir on a given point enlightens us more than any amount of methodological talk. Such memoirs, we feel sure, are forthcoming during the few hours we are spending together. My part in the chair will be that of an attentive listener, and I am certain that I shall never have to interfere in the course of our associated labour, except to express your recognition to the readers whom we now feel anxious to hear. L'HISTOIRE DES RELIGIONS ET LE TOTEMISME Par J. TOUTAIN Depuis que 1 attention des savants a ete attiree sur le totemisme et les phenomenes religieux qui se rattachent etroitement a 1' organisa- tion sociale des clans totemiques, una methode nouvelle est nee en matiere d'histoire des religions. ' Des le debut du xviiie siecle,' ecrit M. Salomon Reinach, 'les missionnaires frangais furent frappes de I'importance des totems dans la vie religieuse, sociale et politique des indigenes de I'Am^rique du Nord. L'un d'eux, le Jesuite Lafitau, eut meme I'idee, vraiment geniale pour I'epoque, d'appliquer les faits de totemisme qu'il etudiait chez les Iroquois a I'interpretation d'un type figure de la mythologie grecque, celui de la Chimere. Pendant les deux premiers tiers du xix^ siecle, missionnaires et voyageurs recueUlirent un peu partout des faits analogues a ceux que I'on avait observes au xvms siecle en Amerique. On s'aper§ut egalement que des faits de meme ordre avaient ete signales au Perou des le xvi^ siecle et, bien plus anciennement, par les ecrivains de I'antiquite classique, Herodote, Diodore, Pausanias, Elien, etc. L'auteur de I'ouvrage celebre sur le mariage primitif, McLennan, proposa en 1869 de reconnaitre des survivances des coutumes et des croyances totemiques dans un grand nombre de civilisations antiques et recentes. II ne fut guere ecoute. Vers 1885, la question fut reprise, avec plus de savoir et de critique, par MM. Robertson Smith et Frazer ; elle n'a pas cesse depuis d'etre a 1' ordre du jour de la science, mais plus particuHerement en Aiigleterre, oil MM. Lubbock, Tylor, Herbert Spencer, Andrew Lang, Jevons, Cook, Grant AHen, s'en sont occupes ou s'en oocupent encore.' ^ En France, c'est le savant directeur du Musee de Saint-Germain qui s'est consacre, avec une ardeur de neo- phyte, k la diffusion de cette methode : il n'hesite pas k la f ormuler en ces termes : ' . . . Partout ou les elements du mythe ou du rite comportent un animal ou un v6g6tal sacre, un dieu ou un h6ros dechir6 ou sacrifie, une mascarade de fideles, une prohibition ahmentaire, le devoir de I'exegete informe est de chercher le mot de I'enigme dans I'arsenal des tabous et des totems' ^ ' S. Beinach, Cvltes, Mythea et Religions, i, pp. 9-10. ' Id., ibid., p. vii. 122 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans I En quoi exactement consiste cette methode ? Quelles sont, si I'on peut ainsi parler, les operations dont elle se compose ? A. La premiere operation est un rapprochement comparatif entre un rite grec, latin, egyptien, etc., et una coutume pratiquee soit aujourd'hui encore par certaines tribus australiennes ou africaines, soit au XVI8 siecle et plus recemment par telles ou telles populations de I'Amerique precolombienne. On compare ainsi le culte que chacun des nomes de I'antique Egypte rendait a un animal sacre avec les temoignages de respect que telle tribu australienne donne a I'animal qui lui sert de totem ; on compare I'interdiction hebraique de manger de la chair de pore avec la repugnance que les clans totemiques ont a manger la chair de leurs totems ; on compare les ceremonies des cultes egyptien, grec, remain, ou I'on revetait de la peau d'un animal sacrifie soit la statue, soit les pretres ou les pretresses d'une divinite, avec la coutume qu'observent les hommes de certains clans totemiques de se parer tantot de la depouille complete de leur totem, tantot de certains ornements, plumes, cornes, etc., provenant de cet animal ; on compare les precedes divinatoires fondes en Grece et en Italie sur I'observation des oiseaux avec la croyance repandue chez quelques peuplades oceaniennes que les totems annoncent I'avenir aux hommes de leur clan ; on compare les noms propres grecs et romains, derives de noms d'animaux, avec I'habitude que les clans totemiques et les indivldus de ces clans ont de porter le nom de leurs totems, etc., etc. On obtient ainsi une s6rie d'equivalences, d'analogies, plus ou moins exactes, plus ou moins precises, entre tels ou tels rites des religions de r antiquity classique et tels ou tels usages observes chez les peuples organises en clans totemiques. B. On ne se borne pas a constater ces Equivalences, ces analogies. On s'efEorce de les expUquer. II est impossible de songer a une trans- mission directe, s'operant de peuple k peuple ; il n'y a certainement pas eu emprunt des tribus australiennes aux peuples mediterraneens, ni des peuples mediterraneens aux tribus australiennes. D'autre part, il serait singuherement temeraire ou paradoxal d'admettre entre les Aruntas de I'Australie et les Grecs, entre les Tlinkits de I'Amerique du Nord et les ItaUotes, une communaute priniitive comparable k celle des peuples de race aryenne. Si done il y avait en Egypte, en Syrie, en Grece, en Italie des rites comparables a ceux qui existent aujourd'hui encore chez diverses peuplades australiennes, on en conclut que les Egyptiens, les habitants de la Syrie, les Grecs, les ItaUotes ont pass6 par la meme organisation sociale, I'organisation totemique, et que ces rites sont k I'epoque historique des survivances d'une pEriode ant^rieure, sur laqueUe d'dilleurs tout renseignement 2t L'Histoire des Religions et le Totemisme : Toutain 123 fait defaut. Cette conclusion n'est etay^e par aucun document, par aucun indice, meme le plus minime. EUe est obtenue par la seule deduction. M. S. Reinach proclame trds haut le droit pour I'historien des religions d'user de la deduction et de la logique : ' Assur^ment personne ne soutient plus, avec Hegel, que tout ce qui est rationnel soit reel ; mais il est certain que tout ce qui est reel est rationnel. On peut done, tres Mgitimement, user de la deduction et de la logique pour reconstruire I'etat d'une societe qu'on connait seulement par quelques faits generaux ou par des survivances. C'est ce qui s'appelle faire de la paleontologie sociale. Aussi est-il paifaitement licite de parler du totemisme ou du matriarcat des Grecs ou des Celtes, alors que les Grecs ou les Celtes que nous fait connaitre I'histoire n'etaient pas totemistes et ignoraient la filiation uterine.'^ On se transporte ainsi tr^s aisement par la pensee dans une societe totemique, que Ton croit et que I'on affirme avoir precede, de plus ou moins de siecles, I'organisation sociale des temps historiques chez les peuples riverains ou voisins de la Mediterranee. G. On ne s'en tient meme pas la. On se laisse entrainer k gen^raliser bien davantage. Outre les faits precis et particuliers, outre les rites bien definis qu'il est possible et interessantde comparer avec des usages egale- ment precis et particuliers, avec des coutumes egalement bien definies constatees chez tels ou tels clans totemiques, on s'empare, on pretend avoir le droit de s'emparer de tous les cas oii un animal, un v6g6tal, meme un objet inanime joue un role, tient une place quelconque dans un mythe ou dans un rite reUgieux. Un totem en efiEet peut etre un animal, un vegetal, un objet inanime. Des lors le totemisme devient I'explication universeUe de tous les details de la religion et du culte. Sans doute, M. S. Reinach reconnait que ' le systeme des tabous et des totems n'est pas une clef bonne k ouvrir toutes les serrures ' ; mais nous nous demandons queUes sont les serrures qu'on n'essaiera pas d' ouvrir k I'aide de cette clef, quand nous Hsons quelques Ugnes plus bas cette phrase deja citee precedemment : ' Partout ou les elements du mythe ou du rite comportent un animM ou un vegetal sacre, un diem ou un heros dechire ou sacrifie, une mascarade de fidUes, une prohibition alimentaire, le devoir de I'exegete informe est de chercher le mot de I'enigme dans Varsenal des tabous et des totems.' Voila, si nous ne nous trompons pas, en quoi consiste la methode nouvelle, que MM. S. Reinach et Durkheim, apres les 6rudits et les savants anglais dont les noms sont mentionnes plus haut, se sont efforces de mettre en pratique. H nous semble que cette methode suppose divers postulats. Ce sont ces postulats qu'il convient d'exa- miner maintenant. S'ils sont fragiles ou incertains, la methode elle- meme s'ecroule avec eux. * S. Reinach, op. cit., p. 84. 124 VI. Jteligions of the Greeks and Bdmans II Le premier, le plus important de ces postulate, celui sur lequel tout le raisonnement repose, peut etre ainsi f ormule : ' L' organisation en clans totemiques est une forme sociale n6cessairement anterieure, dans revolution de I'humanite, aux formes sociales qui caracterisaient les peuples de I'antiquite classique.' Peut-on admettre sans discussion la verite de ce postulat ? Nous ne le pensons pas. II n'est nuUement certain pour nous que les populations totemiques soient des populations primitives, et non pas des populations degenerees. Au debut d'un article fort important publie en 1899 dans le Fort- nightly Review sous le titre The origin of totemism, M. Frazer, pour prouver que les Australiens sont Men des primitifs, mentionne I'idee qu'Us se font de la conception : ' Dans 1' opinion de ces sauvages,' ecrit-il, ' toute conception est ce que nous avons I'habitude d'appeler une immaculee conception ; elle a pour cause I'entree d'un esprit dans le corps de la mere, independamment de toute union sexuelle. Un peuple aussi ignorant de la plus elementaire des lois naturelles est vraiment au dernier degre de I'echelle parmi les sauvages.' ^ La conclusion de M. Frazer nous semble fort discutable. Quelle idee trouvons-nous k la base de cette croyance austraHenne ? C'est I'idee de la transmigration du principe vital immateriel, de I'ame. Est-ce la une idee primitive ? Et s'il nous plaisait d'opposer hypothese a hypothese, ne pourrions-nous pas nous demander si cette idee n'est pas, au contraire, la survivance deformee, I'echo lointain et denatur6 de quelque philosophic spirituaUste ? Voici encore une autre th^orie de M. Frazer. Dans la 2^ edition anglaise du Golden Bough, ce savant a exprime sur I'origine du tote- misme une opinion qui sans doute parait avoir ete serieusement ebranlee depuis lors, mais qui n'en est pas moins interessante pour la question qui nous occupe. La conception fondamentale du tote- misme se rattacherait, d'apres cette th6orie, a I'idee de I'ame exterieure ; le totem serait I'animal, le vegetal ou I'objet inanime dans lequel un individu pourrait deposer son ame, afin de se rendre invulnerable ; et cependant cette ame, ainsi enfermee dans un etre ou un objet ext^rieur et lointain, conserve des relations tres etroites avec le corps auquel eUe appartient. Si I'etre ou I'objet oii eUe se trouve enfermee subit quelque atteinte, I'individu, a qui eUe appartient, soufEre ; si cet etre ou cet objet est d^truit, J'individu meurt.^ Dans cette hypothese, le totemisme aurait pour condition n^cessaire la croyance a I'existence de I'ame distincte du corps, capable de sortir de ce corps ' Fortnightly Review, 1899, p. 649. " Le Rameau d'or, trad. fran9., t. ii, p. 627 et suiv. 2. UHistcAre des Religions et le Totemisme : Toutain 125 tout en continuant a I'animer, et d'exercer sur lui, a quelque distance que ce soit, une action toute-puissante. En v6rit6, de telles ideas sont-elles primitives ? Et n'avons-nous pas le droit de contester Taffirmation d'aprds laquelle I'organisation sociale, a laquelle elles sont necessaires, est f orc^ment anterieure, dans revolution de rhuma- nite, a I'organisation sociale des Egyptiens, des Syriens, des Grecs, des Italiotes de I'antiquite classique ? De ces observations, nous conclurons, non pas que I'organisation totemique correspond a une periode de decadence, mais qu'il est tem^raire d'en afiSrmer a 'priori le caractere primitif . D'autre part possedons-nous des indices concrets qui nous per- mettent de determiner au moins approximativement la place de rorganisation totdmique dans I'histoire de la civiLsation ? Des observations ont-elles ete faites qui aient permis de voir dans quel sens, vers quelle forme nouvelle evoluaient les clans totemiques, ou encore de quelle forme sociale ils etaient partis pour aboUtir au tote- misme ? Certains clans totemiques, dans I'Amerique du Nord, sont connus, sinon studies, depuis pres de trois siecles. II ne semble pas qu'une Evolution se soit produite chez ces tribus, qu'il s'y soit marque une tendance a passer du totemisme a la zoolatrie ou au theriomorphisme. On dira sans doute que la periode d' observation est encore trop courte, et que d'autre part I'influence europ^enne a fait passer directement maints individus de ces clans totemiques au monotheisme chr6tien. H n'en demeure pas moins vrai que, sur le seul champ d'etudes un peu etendu que Ton possede, on n'a pu relever aucun indice favorable k la these d'apres laquelle le totemisme serait une conception reUgieuse necessairement anterieure au polytheisme tel qu'il a existe chez la plupart des peuples de I'antiquite classique. En outre, quelques observations particulidres ont ete faites, quelques idees personnelles ont ete emises qui sont nettement contraires a la these tot^miste. La seule population organisee en clans totemiques qui ait ete observee scientifiquement est celle des Aruntas de I'Australie centrale. On salt avec quel soin, quel souci d'exactitude et de precision, les usages des Aruntas ont ete decrits par MM. Spencer et GOlen.^ Or 11 r^sulte, sans aucune contestation possible, de leurs travaux, que les Aruntas possedent des traditions suivant lesqueUes leurs ancetres n'observaient aucune des regies totemiques actuellement en vigueur dans cette tribu. Par exemple, chez les clans dont I'jfemou est aujour- d'hui le totem, les traditions de ces clans representent les ancetres comme ayant toujours eu et pratique le droit de manger cet animal. De meme, la regie de I'exogamie n'etait pas observee ; un homme ^ Thi Native Tribes of Central A-ustralia, Londres, 1899. 126 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans epousait toujours une femme de son propre clan. Et M. Frazer, apres avoir rappele ces traditions, conclut : ' Ainsi les tribus de 1 Aus- tralie centrale ont des traditions tres nettes, tres precises, d'apres lesquelles jadis leurs ancetres tuaient et mangeaient leurs totems, et epousaient toujours des femmes de leur propre clan totemique. Qu'est-ce a dire, sinon que le totemisme n'existait pas chez les ancetres des Australiens actuels ? La gravite de ces observations n'a point echappe a M. S. Reinach ; il s'est efiEorce d'en detruire I'impression. A propos des traditions recueillies par MM. Spencer et GiUen, il se contente de dire : ' Que valent de pareilles traditions ? Rien ou peu de chose.' En verite, c'est Ik faire trop bon marche des docu- ments. M. S. Reinach, qui accorde pleine et entiere confiance aux recits des Jesuites du xvme siecle sur I'Drganisation religieuse et sociale des indigenes de I'Amerique du Nord ^, ne veut tenir aucun compte des traditions que les Aruntas possedent sur leurs propres ancetres : est-ce Ik une methode vraiment critique et scientifique ? Pour nous, ce qui ressort sans aucun doute des observations faites et des traditions recueiUies par MM. Spencer et Gillen, c'est que chez les Australiens, ou du moins dans certaines tribus austra- liennes, le totemisme est de date recente et que 1' organisation proprement totemique y a succede a des formes sociales ou les regies caracteristiques du totemisme n'6taient pas observees. Le totemisme est done loin d'etre un 6tat social primitif. Cette conclusion n'est-elle pas, dans une certaine mesure, confirmee par I'idee que M. Frazer a developpee dans la 2^ edition du Golden Bough sur I'origine des totems de clans, idee qui derive d'aiUeurs assez nettement de sa theorie, citee plus haut, sur I'origine de la conception totemique elle-meme ? D'apres M. Frazer, le totem du clan, par suite 1' organisation sociale en clans totemiques, ne serait qu'une extension, une generalisation du totem individuel. Dans certaines tribus africaines, chez certains peuples indigenes de I'Amerique, chaque individu se croit protege specialement par un animal qu'il appelle son nagual, son idhlozi, etc.^ Qu'au lieu de proteger un seul individu, I'animal soit cense proteger un groupe tout entier, le totem individuel se transforme aussitot en totem de clan. Le clan s'impose a regard de cet animal les memes devoirs que I'individu a I'egard de son nagual, de son idhlozi, etc., etc. Ainsi le totemisme propre- ment dit, le totemisme de clan, serait logiquement et historiquement posterieur au totemisme individuel. Or I'id^e, qui se trouve au fond du totemisme individuel, est ais6e a retrouver chez les divers peuples de I'antiquite classique : c'est I'id^e que chaque individu est place ' Fortnightly Review, 1899, p. 655 et suiv. ^ Gidte^, Mythes et Religions, t. i, p. 9. ° Le Rameau d'or, trad, frang., t. ii, p. 515 et suiv. 2. L'Histoire des Religions et le Totemisine : Toutain 127 sous la protection d'un etre puissant et bienveillant, qui se manifeste le plus souvent sous la forme d'un animal. Le genius latin, le Sai/xwv grec, n'^taient-ils pas en gdn^ral representes par un serpent ? Si la thdorie de M. Frazer est juste, si vraiment la forme la plus ancienne du totemisme est le tot6misme individuel, nous sommes en droit de dire que les Grecs et les Latins ont connu celle-l& a I'^oque histori- que, mais qu'ils n'ont point connu le totemisme collectif parce que leur evolution sociale et religieuse s'est faite autrement, dans un autre sens, dans une direction difE6rente. Mais nous ne voulons rien affirmer en cette matiere. II serait contraire a notre m^thode et a notre conception de I'histoire de sub- sttiuer des affirmations hypotWtiques aux affirmations que nous contestons pr6cisement parce qu'elles sont hypothetiques. Nous nous sommes seulement eflforces de montrer que le caractere primitif ou anterieur du totemisme n'est rien moins que prouv6. H n'est pas non plus certain que les tribus totemiques soient des populations primitives. La vie sauvage qu'elles menent n'est pas un argument en faveur de cette these. Nous avons rencontre en Tunisie, dans les riches plaines qu'arrose la Medjerda, presque sur I'emplacement de villes antiques ou s'eleverent de magnifiques monuments, des indigenes qui ne savaient meme pas leur age. lis etaient, non point des primitifs, mais bien des degeneres. Cette decadence ne pourrait- elle pas Stre egalement constatee en Asie-Mineure, dans les vallees du Tigre et de I'Euphrate, sur les plateaux mexicains et peruviens ? Le premier, le plus important des postulats, sur lesquels repose la methode totemistique, est done singuKerement fragile. H n'est pas prouve que I'organisation totemique soit, dans revolution sociale et reUgieuse de I'humanite, une forme primitive, ou du moins anterieure k la plupart des autres formes aujourd'hui connues. II n'est pas davantage prouve que les tribus organisees en clans totemiques soient des populations en enfance ; elles pourraient tout aussi bien etre des peuples degdneres. Ill Mais, meme en admettant comme suffisamment solide ce premier postulat, un second postulat en derive tout aussitot. Le voici : ' Tous les peuples, dans tous les pays du globe, ont passe par le tote- misme.' Sans ce postulat, en effet, il est impossible de considerer comme survivances d'une organisation totemique disparue les mythes et les rites de I'antiquit^ classique oil il est question soit d'un animal, soit d'un vegetal sacre. Ce second postulat est-il moins fragile que le premier ? Peut-il se justifier a priori ou a 'posteriori en matiere rel^ieuse et en matiere sociale ? A priori, il nous semble que ce postulat implique la meconnaissance 128 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans d'une des lois les mieux demontrees aujourd'hui de revolution histo- rique, a savoir Tinfluence du milieu, des conditions geographiques sur la vie et 1' organisation des groupements humains. Pour affirmer que partout, dans tous les pays du globe, le totemisme a existe comme il existe encore de nos jours dans certaines regions de TAmerique et en Australie, il faut ne tenir aucun compte de Taction que le milieu a pu et du exercer sur 1' organisation sociale de la vie collective ; il faut admettre que partout cette organisation a passe par les memes stades, se succedant dans le meme ordre. On concede seulement que revolution a ete ici plus lente, la plus rapide ; mais on affirme que les Grecs ou leurs ancetres ont traverse la meme phase ou les Aruntas sont arretes maintenant ; que les populations de I'ltalie ont franchi I'etape a laquelle les Peaux-Rouges etaient arrives au xvi® et au xvne siecle ; que les !6gyptiens ont connu les memes cadres sociaux dans lesquels les Polynesiens etaient hier ou sont encore aujourd'hui con- fines. A un fait general mis en lumiere grace a un nombre considerable d' observations concretes et particuUeres, on oppose une pure hypo- these, fondee sur une deduction d'apparence logique. Nous estimons qu'un tel raisonnement est non seulement vain, mais meme singuhere- ment dangereux en histoire. A 'posteriori, quelques indices precis nous permettent de considerer ce postulat comme insoutenable. Et d'abord, le totemisme est loin d'exister dans toutes les populations sauvages de notre epoque. M. Mauss, dont on ne suspectera pas les opinions en cette matiere, ecrivait en 1900 dans V Annie Sociologique : ' Le totemisme, dans ses formes accusees, ne se retrouve, a notre connaissance, que dans ime aire geographique restreinte, et il reste que son universalite n'est pas demontr6e.' ^ En Afrique, par exemple, il y a tres peu de clans tote- miques. Par consequent, il est inexact d'afifirmer que tous les peuples ont du passer par le totemisme, a un moment quelconque de leur evolution sociale et religieuse. II y a d'autres formes de la pensee reUgieuse primitive, par exemple le fetichisme et I'animisme. En second Ueu, on connait suifisamment aujourd'hui le developpe- ment social et revolution reUgieuse de la plupart des peuples aryens pour discemer s'ils ont tous passe par les memes phases de d6veloppe- ment social et rehgieux. Oserait-on par exemple afiBrmer que ce developpement s'est fait exactement dans les memes conditions chez les Germains ou les Scandinaves et chez les Latins, chez les Celtes et chez les Grecs ? Voudrait-on reconstituer I'histoire sociale primitive des populations de la Grece d'apres ce que Ton salt de 1' organisation sociale des Gaulois ? Se permettrait-on de combler avec des Elements empruntes a la Germanie les lacunes qui existent encore dans notre connaissance des institutions sociales des plus anciens habitants de ' Annie Sociologique, iv (1899-1900), p. 164. 2. L'Histoire des Religions et le Totemisme : Toutain 129 ritalie ? Et cependant, s'il est un resultat incontestable de la philo- logie compar6e, c'est la demonstration de I'unite ethnographique, de la parente originelle des divers peuples aryens. Allons meme plus loin : ne sait-on pas combien 1' organisation religieuse et sacerdotale de la cit6 romaine differe des institutions reUgieuses et sacerdotales des villes grecques? Bien tem^raire paraitrait Thistorien qui vou- drait conclure de celle-ci a ceUe-la. Voilk des faits qui prouvent, a nos yeux, toute la vanite et tout le peril des efforts tentes pour reconstruire, d'apres I'^tat social et religieux des Aruntas et des Peaux-Rouges, la pretendue periode totemique des religions de I'anti- quite classique. C'est done encore un postulat plus que fragile que celui qui admet I'universalite du totemisme. Or ce postulat n'est pas moins necessaire que le premier a la m^thode de paleontologie sociale si ardemment pronee par M. S. Reinach et ses disciples. IV Voici, enfin, un troisieme postulat, qu'il suffira d'indiquer pour en faire apparaitre aussitot I'importance : ' Le totemisme est un systeme social et religieux, dont les caracteres essentiels sont parfaitement connus.' II faut en effet admettre ce postulat, pour pouvoir appliquer la metbode chere a M. Reinach : sinon, on conclurait, non pas du cbnnu a I'inconnu, mais de I'inconnu ou tout au moins de I'incertain a I'inconnu. Ce postulat a-t-il plus de valeur que les precedents ? II serait paradoxal de le soutenir aujourd'hui, apres toutes les discussions et toutes les controverses auxquelles a donne Ueu le totemisme. II nous parait inutile d'entrer dans le detail de ces discussions et de ces controverses. Qu'il nous sufQse de rappeler les interpretations succes- sives que M. Frazer, avec sa conscience et sa bonne foi vraiment admirables, a donnees de I'origine et de la vraie nature du totemisme ; les exegeses savantes et subtiles de MM. Durkheim et S. Reinach ; la theorie recente de M. A. Lang. Signalons enfin la contradiction flagrante entre la croyance le plus generalement admise au caractere primitif du totemisme et I'opinion de MariUier, que le totemisme, loin d'etre un point de depart, est plutot un aboutissement, une sorte d'impasse des concepts religieux ; que, sous sa forme achevee, il est rebelle a tout progres.^ Rappelons enfin, pour montrer combien il est premature de vouloir, suivant I'expression de M. S. Reinach, ' formuler le Code du Totemisme,' que la premiere etude vraiment scientifique d'une tribu totemique, I'etude de MM. Spencer et Gillen * Revue d'histoire des religions, t. xxxvi, pp. 208 et 321 ; t. xxxvii, pp. 204 et 345. 130 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans sur les Aruntas, a suffi pour modifier ties sensiblement les idees pre- cedemment exposees et soutenues en matiere de totemisme par des juges aussi competents que M. Frazer. En vain MM. S. Reinach et Durkheim se sont efforces de prouver que les observations de MM. Spencer et Gillen ne portaient pas aux idees re§ues un coup aussi grave qu'il avait paru d'abord. II n'en demeure pas moins ceci : jusqu'a la publication du livre des deux voyageurs anglais, on admettait ' que le totemisme est caracterise par deux faits essentiels : 1° Le respect de la vie du totem, qui n'est ni tue ni mange, sinon dans des circonstances exceptionneUes, ou les fideles communient et s'impregnent de divinite en le mangeant ; 2° L'exogamie, a savoir la defense pour le porteur d'un totem d'epouser un individu ayant le meme totem, c'est-a-dire appartenant au meme clan totemique.' ^ Or, chez les Aruntas, tribu totemique, MM. Spencer et GiUen ont constate que ' n'existent ni le respect de la vie du totem ni l'exogamie des clans '. ^ Ainsi les premieres observations poursuivies avec methode par deux hommes de science ont demontre que deux caracteres consideres comme essentiels du totemisme ne I'etaient point ou du moins I'etaient bien moins qu'on ne pensait auparavant. Les subtilites les plus ingenieuses seront impuissantes a attenuer la portee d'un tel fait. Ceque nousvoulons en retenir, c'est qu'il estpar- faitement imprudent d'affirmer que le totemisme soit des maintenant connu avec assez de precision pour fournir une methode d'exegese mythologique et religieuse applicable aux cultes de I'antiquite classique. Le terrain est en verite trop mouvant encore, il a ete trop imparfaite- ment sonde pour qu'un historien conscient des necessites de sa tache et de ses devoirs essaye d'y edifier un systeme d'interpretation. Au total, quel est a I'heure actuelle le bilan reel des etudes entreprises par maints savants sur le totemisme ? 1° une masse abondante de faits concrets, observes objectivement surtout en Amerique et en Australie ; ces faits sont diff6rents, parfois meme contradictoires ; 2° diverses hypotheses exphcatives, qui ont varie a mesure que de nouveaux faits venaient s'ajouter aux faits anterieurement connus, et dont aucune ne rend vraiment compte de la totalite des faits observes. Soyons done prudents ; ne nous evertuons pas, avec ces seuls mat^riaux, a vouloir forger une clef qui ouvre, non pas meme toutes les serrures, mais beaucoup de serrures a la fois. V Ainsi les trois postulats, necessaires a la methode d'exegese mytho- logique fondee sur le totemisme, nous paraissent etre fragiles ou ' S. Reinach, Cultes, Mythea et Religions, t. i, p. 79. " Id., ibid., p. 80. 2. L'Histoire des Religions et le Totemisme : Toutain 131 contestables. On en conclura avec raison que cette methode elle- meme est fort dangereuse. Des lors, dans I'etat actuel de la science, il est preferable, 11 est sage de I'ecarter. II convient d'etudier les f aits totemiques a part ; 11 faut essayer de reconnaitre si le totemisme, au dela des differences, au dela meme des contradictions apparentes depuis longtemps signalees, ne se fonde pas sur quelque principe general, mais il sera necessaire de ne consid^rer ce probleme comme resolu qu'apres la decouverte d'un principe qui rendra compte, serieusement et sans entorse, de tons les faits observes. Jusqu'au moment ou cette decouverte sera faite, tout historien des religions, qui voudra faire oeuvre vraiment historique, devra s'abstenir d'expli- quer par de pretendues survivances d'un totemisme anterieur les rites et les mythes encore obscurs de I'antiquite classique. La methode historique a ses exigences, ses rigueurs, ses limites. N'est-il pas remarquable que I'exegese, f ondee sur le totemisme, ait ete surtout admise et pratiquee par des philologues, des Utterateurs et des philo- sophes, surtout critiquee par des historiens ? DEFIXIONUM TABELLAE By r. B. JEVONS Where gods are believed in, a man may pray to them to grant him his heart's desire ; and, if he has no behef in magic, they are the only resort he can fly to when his desire is something which it is beyond human power to fulfil. But, where there is belief in magic as well as in the gods, the case is different. If the man does not — for whatever reason — like to ask the gods for what he wants, he may have recourse to magic, and by its aid do what he wants done. As a rule, his reason for employing magic rather than appeal to the gods is that the thing he wants is something which the gods disapprove of, for instance, the death of one of their worshippers. When then we come across a practice which is employed by one member of a community with the object of causing death or disaster to another, we may reasonably regard it as magical rather than religious, as operating independently of the gods rather than by their assistance. Such a practice we come across in the ' defixionum tabellae ' . The object of defixio is to cause, if not death, then disaster. Its object, therefore, is magical ; and its means and modus operandi also are magical. Its apparatus consists of a tablet of lead, inscribed k2 132 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans with the name of the person to be injured, and ' defixed ' with a nail. For those who believe in magic the name of a person is, in a way, identical with the person named ; just as, by the same confusion of categories, the image of a person is identical with the person imaged. Hence, whatever is done to the image — ^whether it be a figure drawn on the sand, or a likeness made of wax or of clay— will be felt by the person imaged. Hence, too, whatever is done to the name of the person, when it is written down, will be felt by the person named. When then we find in Attica names written on lead and defixed by a nail, we may be sure that the person named was supposed to be nailed down as effectually as his name was. This is placed beyond doubt by the fact that many of the tablets contain not merely a name defixed by a nail but also the express statement, ' I nail so and so,' e.g. Wuensch, Defixionum Tahdlae, 66, KaraSS 'Evaparov. That in nailing the name of the person the worker of magic was naiUng the person named is clear from Wuensch 57 ovofxa Kwrahw koX avrov. And when all the parts of the person named and nailed are enumerated, it is clear that the object of the enumeration is to ensure that the person is nailed down effectually, wholly, and completely. And the object of nailing him down thus tightly could only be to prevent him from doing anything. It might be desired to prevent him from doing anjrthing whatever successfully — KoX firjiroTi avTO's ev ■/rpdrroi, 64 — or to prevent him from doing some particular thing, e.g. from speaking successfully in a lawsuit lying between the person defixing and the person defixed, e. g. 66. It is this negative or prohibitive quality which is the essential and constant feature in the Attic tablets of defixion. Even in later non- Attic tablets this feature is rarely lost, and never entirely. In many of the Attic tablets the worker of magic both puts a nail through the tablet and says, ' I nail ' the person or the name, KaraSZ Eidparov Or ovofm KaraSw. But in some cases he is content with the written declaration that he nails the man, and does not feel it necessary to put an actual nail through the tablet. In principle, of course, the written statement with a nail must be earher than the written statements which dispense with a nail ; for unless there is a nail there is no actual defixio. But we cannot say with regard to any given tablet which has no nail, that it must be later than any tablet with a nail ; for the new tendency would not, the moment it first appeared, there and then kill out the old practice. These considerations will also have their weight when we turn to consider the tablets which contain a proper name and nothing more — ^no verbum defyendi. OriginaUy, the worker of magic would inscribe the name on the tablet of lead and then defix it with a nail, saying, but not wntmg, KaraSw tov Stlva. Eighteen of the tablets, containing names. and no verbum defigendi, which are given by Wuensch, have been 3, Defiocionum Tabellae: Jevons 133 thus actually ' nailed '. But eventually the utterance of the formula over the inscribed name came to be sufficient without actually hammer- ing a real nail into the tablet. Twenty-one of the tablets, containing names and no verbum defigendi, which are given by Wuensoh, dispense with the nail. But of course they are not all therefore later than those that have a nail. To those recorded by Wuensch must be added fourteen from the Piraeus, and no less than 436 from Euboea, which are given by AudoUent (Deftxionum Tabellae), as containing names but not defixed with a nail. And these 436 are assigned by Lenormant and Bechtel to the fifth century B.C. In the fourth century B.C. we find tablets containing names and no verb (Aud. 46, 53-59, 60-63, 90) still in use. We also find tablets with no verb, not only containing the name, but also enumerating the members, of the person to be defixed (W. 47-50, 51, 56, 66, 78 ; Aud. 49, 64-66). Further, however, we find in those tablets which can be assigned to the fourth century B.C. quite a new departure : we find gods invoked (W. 89, 100, 87, 101, 107; Aud. 39, 50). Gods are invoked in seven tablets, or (if we include Aud. 67-69 which may or may not belong to the fourth century) gods are invoked in ten tablets. No gods are invoked in twenty-five tablets. The deities invoked are Hermes, Ge, Persephone, Hecate ; and, if we include the tablets of doubtful date already mentioned, Tethys and the areAeo-Toi. Taking first Hermes, Ge, Persephone, and Hecate, we find that the epithet KaTo^os, and once the imperative Karix^re, is used in connexion with them. About the meaning of Karoxos there can be little doubt : it is used elsewhere (G. I. 538) of the earth, and (Hesych.) of the sepulchral stone, which holds down the dead, and prevents them from returning. In that sense, therefore, as Boeckh (C. /. 539) pointed out, it was the function of Ge and Hermes originally to hold down the dead and the dead alone ; and it was by extending the original function of these deities from holding down the dead to holding down the living, that the worker of magic brought them into his service, and reinforced his defixion by invoking, for the purpose of holding down the living, the deities who possessed the power of holding down the dead. This combination of magic and religion begins with a juxtaposition of the two formulae, ' I nail them down,' ' do thou hold them down,' 'Ep/*^ xaToxe Karexe (W. 89, 100). The juxtaposition becomes fusion when (in W. 87) the phrase KaraSw Tov Seij/a becomes KaraSS) Tov Silva Trpos rov Karoxov ''Ep/jirj. And the magical element disappears from view when the writer of the tablet no longer undertakes to defix his enemy but says (W. 107) $epeVtKos jrpos tov 'EpfjL^v tov x^oviov KaraSeSecrOu), or (Aud. 50) prays, Epju,^ KOTox^ KoX *eptre^dvi7 Korixer^ tov Seiva. All three of these stages of evolution are given side by side in an interesting inscription (Aud. 134 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans 52) of the third century B.C. which first, in the fashion of the fifth century, enumerates the names simply of the persons defixed, with a nail driven through them ; then proceeds to the explicit statement, in the fashion of the fourth century, KepKiv /caraSoi koL \6yov? Koi ipycTa KepKiSos; and third, prays to Hermes, 'Ep/^^ x^"""' TaCra ovTw Kare^^t. The reason why those who practised defixion turned to Hermes and Ge before any other gods is clearly to be found, as Boeckh pointed out, in the ambiguity of the epithet koItoxos, which was already applied to them. But a magician does not usually, in the act of working his magic, pray to the gods ; for the simple reason that magic is intended to enable a man to get something which the gods , as gods , cannot approve of. If, therefore, the person who defixed his enemy could, whilst defixing him, invoke the assistance of the gods, it must have been because the prayer which he made was not of such a nature as to be offensive to the gods but was one which they might listen to. Now the object of defixion was to nail down a man so that he could do no injury. And if the person practising defixion was a person fearing to suffer wrong, he might legitimately pray to the gods to defend him, their servant. And that this might be the attitude assumed is clearly shown by W. 98, (^iXi; r^ PorjOa /xoC oSikou/aci/os yap inro ^ipviTToXefwv kol Hcvo^wTos KaroSfi aiToiJs. As a matter of fact, of those Attic tablets which state the reason for the defixion, the majority allege fear of injury as the motive : and the injury feared is generally a threatened lawsuit, whence the persons defixed are so and so koI tovs itvvSlkovs or TOWS Kanjyopovi. The deities earUest invoked are the kAtoxoi, Hermes and Ge. But when once they had been invoked, then by analogy other deities also might be invoked. Of other deities the first appealed to — if we may trust to the dates assigned, so far as they are assigned, to the tablets — were Orphic deities (Aud. 68, 69), Hermes and Tethys, and the aTekfOTOL (of. Plato, Phaedo 69 C os av a/xvrjro^ (cat aTtXcoros ek "AiSov atKrjTai, iv ySop/Sopoi KetVerai). That these tablets (Aud. 68, 69) are reasonably assigned — ^from the point of view of internal evidence — to the fourth century, is indicated by Plato's reference (Eep. ii. 364 c) to KaTaSeV/tous = defixiones. In this passage Plato is thinking of the Orphics ; he alleges that they use KaTaSetr/xot ; and, furthermore, that by means of these KardSeo-fwi, they persuade the gods to do their will (i-n-aybyyaii tutI Kal KaraSeV/iois rows Oeovs, axn, ntiOovrh o-^utlv vTrripeTeiv) , which exactly describes the in- cantations and invocations contained in those Attic defixionum tabellae which are addressed to the gods. It should also be noted that Plato in the Laws 933 a, also indicates that KaraSeo-cts or defixiones were used in magic without reference to the gods, and were believed 3, Defixionum Tabellae : Jevons 135 to derive their efladency from the personal power of the magician ; a\k-n hi ^ fx.ayyav(Lai.s re run kcu iTrmSaU Kal KaraSecrto-i Xe-yo/tcVats Weet Tovi fih' ToX/ioii/Tas ^Xa-irreiv airou's, iLs SvvavTai to toiovtov, from which it is clear that the worker of fLayyaveia. or magic beheved he had the power to do by means of KaTaSia-ws what he intended to do. The evidence afforded by Plato is thus in exact agreement with that of the tablets : on the one hand, the worker of magic has the power to nail down his enemy, and accordingly he defixes him, without reference to the gods ; on the other hand, he may reinforce his defixion by a prayer to the gods ; and, in this latter case, we get tablets of the type, iyw KaraSul, 'I nail him,' Karoxe xaVexe, 'do thou keep him down' (e.g. Aud. 52). Tablets of this type, however, present us with an unstable relation between magic and reUgion. I say ' unstable ' not on a priori grounds, but on the evidence of the inscriptions. On a priori grounds, indeed, we might expect that either the religious element would expel the magical, so that the iyi> KaTaSZ would disappear, and the prayer, Koroxe Korexe (or some equivalent), would alone remain ; or we might expect the magical element to subdue the religious element to its own hue. As a matter of fact, we find both things happening, but the latter eventually triumphant. Even in a fourth-century tablet (Aud. 50) we find the iyu) KaraSZ dropped altogether and nothing left but the prayer, 'Ep/jirj Karoxe Kol 6vyi Karix^Ti. And towards the end of the third century (Aud. 212) or beginning of the second century (Aud. 1-13) we find tablets which are evidently evolved from the defixionis tabella, but which no longer contain either any magic or any defiLxion. These tablets are evidently evolved from defixionum tabellae : they are written on lead (with the exception of 212), and are intended to put constraint on the person against whom they are directed. But they differ in other and striking respects from defixions ; and the differences all point in the same direction. First, whereas in defixions the writer gives in fuU, and often repeatedly, the name and description of the person defixed, but carefully omits his own name, in these tablets the writer's own name is given in full, but that of the person against whom they are directed is not given. Next, whereas defixionum tabellae were carefully concealed (as the waxen images, K^piva iuii.riitaTa ■n-eTrXaa-ijJva — through which nails or needles were stuck for the purpose of defixion, in the same way that nails were driven through the names inscribed on the defixionum tabellae — were, Plato tells us. Laws 933 B, buried e'r im Wpats «t' IttI rpioSoiv eir' i-irl p-vi^fiMn), these tablets, so far from being concealed, were published : they were nailed up in the temple of a deity in order that all men might read them. Those from Cnidus (Aud. 1-13) were discovered by Newton in the 136 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans Tiix€vo<; of Demeter by the side of fragments of statues of Demeter, and the inscriptions themselves are addressed to Demeter by name. Newton was undoubtedly right in conjecturing that ' they were pro- bably suspended on walls [nfiivovs:), as they are pierced with holes at the corners '. With regard to the remaining tablet from Bruttium (Aud. 212), Audollent admits that ' lamminam aeneam, quippe quae vix complicari quiret, non latuisse in sepulchro abditam, sed fuisse luci expositam ' ; and there can be no doubt it was fastened up in the temple of the goddess referred to in the inscription. The fact then that these tablets were pubhshed and not hidden away, and that the author did not conceal his name but proclaimed it, show that these tablets were not magical in intention, or likely to be so regarded ; for the worker of magic invariably conceals his traces. Further, the writers of these tablets do not ' defix ' anybody, or use any term equivalent to KwrahSi. They ' devote ' some one who has wronged them to the goddess : avaridrjixi Adfiarpi, rbv Sciva — dvtEpoi 'AvTiyovr] Aa/xarpi — avtepoi 'ApT£/X€ts Adfiarpi. And they publicly ' de- vote ' or ' dedicate ' the property which the wrongdoer has appro- priated in order that it may become too hot for him to hold : aviapi^ei Ti.oXX.vpa Tais irpoirdXois tSs OeS> to tjuaTtov to TreXXov, to eXa^e . , . koi ovk airoBiSuyn . . . pLrj irpOTcpov 8e rav xlrv^av aveir] iCTTi av9eirj t3.i Ocu) (Aud. 212). There is in these tablets no magic secretly worked by their authors ; the writers do not defix anybody ; they do not imagine they have any power to work magic. They rely on the gods to assist them in regaining their rights or in recovering their lost property. These particular tablets from Cnidus belong to the second century, that from Bruttium (Aud. 212) to the third. But they proceed evidently from the same stratum of society as do those of the fourth century B. c, the spelling and grammar of which, as well as the nature of the proper names that occur in them, show that the authors of defixionum tabellae belonged to the same stage of culture as those who even nowadays seek to recover lost property ' by means of the spirits '. The tablet from Bruttium brings to our attention two further developments in the evolution of the defixionum tabellae. First, the goddess invoked in it is neither one of the original kcitoxoi, nor an Orphic deity, but Juno Lacinia. Next, defixion, which originated in and for long was limited to Attica, is now beginning to reach Italy, thence to pass into the Roman empire. The tablet from Bruttium, and one from Liguria (Aud. 123) belonging to the second century B. c, are both in Greek. From these tablets, used for the recovery of lost or stolen property, not only defixion in particular but magic generally has wholly evaporated ; and, if the religion left in them is of inferior quality, it has at any rate completely ejected the magical element. 3. Defiocionum Tabellae : Jevons 137 Turning now to those tablets which are really defixionum tabellae, but which bear Latin inscriptions and are found in Italy, we find the earliest that can be dated (Aud. 199) belongs to the first century B. c. ; and it is generally agreed that the practice of defixion travelled from Greece, where it had been cultivated since the fifth century B.C., to Italy. The Latin defixiones in Italy, being borrowed from the Greek KardSeo-fjioi, reproduce all the three forms of KaraSeVets found in Greece. That is to say, we find leaden tablets, bearing names and no verb, some of which (e.g. Aud. 211) are nailed, and others not (e.g. 130, 131). We find some which are purely magical, i.e. neither contain nor imply any reference to any gods, and in which the Greek KaraSeu) is translated by the Latin defigo (e.g. 134, 135). And we find others in which the KwraSC) irpos tov kotoxov 6i6v is translated by 'Dite pater, tibi commendo ' (139), or ' dii inferi, vobis commendo ' (190), or ' omnes inferis deis deUgo ' (199). And as the idea that the name of a person is identical with the person named is at the root of the practice of KardSto-is or defixio, we find that the name in Italy as in Greece was thus commended to the gods, e.g. 196 ' nomen delatum Naeviae ' ; and, as it was to the kotoxoi. that the Greek was nailed down, so it was to the dii inferi that the Roman victim was commended ; and, as the Greek tablets often enumerate every part of the person nailed down, so the Latin tablets (134, 135) enumerate at great length aU parts of the anatomy, and state expressly that they are nailed down to the leaden tablet, ' manus digitos ' &c., or ' membra omnia,' 'defigo in has tabellas.' The purpose of the defixion or ' commendation ' is sometimes stated, e.g. 195 ' uti tabescat mando rogo', or the victim is commended in order that he may become ' quomodo mortuos qui istuc sepultus est' (139). In fine, no Latin tablet found in Italy presents us with any deviation from the Greek tablets already described ; and these Latin tablets of the normal type extend from the first century B.C. to at least the end of the second century a.d. But during the second century a.d., though not before, a change in the character of these KaTaSt'o-eis or defixiones begins to manifest itself. In Greek tablets found in Italy (e.g. 198, 208), and in Latin tablets found in the provinces (e.g. 270), we find the magical element dominating the religious, and the magician con- trolUng the deities he addresses. His word of power is cfopKt^o) v/^Ss or adiuro. And the deities exorcised are numerous and Oriental. The change which comes over the practice of defixio seems not to be an evolution due to any of the elements originally present in the practice, but to be an extraneous element taken up by defixio from without. And the mind naturally recurs for a parallel to i^opKi^oi, to Ttv« Kol tS>v 7reptepxo/x«i/a)v 'lovSatW i^opKUTTwv (ActS XIX. 13). They tried Svofm^eiv to ovo/ta tov Kvpiov 'l-rja-ov, and a tablet from Puteoli 138 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans (208), which bears, as a rubric, the words ayiov ovofia, shows by its superscription, %afiaia6, that it has a Jewish tincture. Possibly it was by some such agency that iiJ.66rjTt (Mark i. 25) in the third cen- tury A.D. was not only used in defixions in Syria (Aud. 15, line 24, ^LfuiKj-aTov 8e TO, a-TOfjiaTa -ttolvtidv) but had become so common in Cyprus that not only is the phrase used (e.g. 25, line 13, Sos ^t/x.6v tS ©£o- Siapto, or 27, hne 29, ^ifiwa-are T0V1 dvTLSiKovi) in defixions, but the defixion itself is repeatedly called ttjv nrapaOriK-qv iiJ.iiJ.o>TLKov KaTaOifjiaTOi (28, 16). In defixionum tabellae of this class, the word of power, iiopKL^ai or adiuro, used by the magician to do evil, is that which was used by the strolling Jews of Acts xix to do good. The tabellae in which this word occurs were found in Syria, Cyprus, Africa, and (in Sethian tabellae alone) at Rome. One found in Campania (Aud. 198), and one found in Egypt (38), are Sethian in character. It is evident, therefore, that the formula i$opKi^(o is of Oriental origin. It is absolutely unknown in Greek and Itahan tabellae from the fifth century B.C. to the second century A. D. ; and, when it does appear, it appears only in tablets which make mention of Oriental deities. Further, these Oriental tablets have their own Hne of ancestry, which is different from that of the defixionum tabellae. The Oriental tablets are certainly not descended from the Greek tablets of the fiifth century b. c. ; and they clearly are descended from Babylonian magic. The defixionum tabellae which are of Oriental character and of Oriental origin, have, however, one feature which they bear in common with the defixionum tabellae of Greek origin and character ; and it is the feature which clearly marks them off from the proceedings both of the strolhng Jews of Acts xix, and of the earUer Babylonian magicians. The strolling Jews and the Babylonians used their exorcisms openly, before the face of all men, to do good— to relieve the sufferings of the sick. The authors of the defixionum tabellae, whether Greek or Oriental, practised their art to do injury; they made their tablets in secrecy, they preserved a careful anonymity, and they buried their tablets under door-sills, under crossways, or in sepulchres (Plato, Laws 933 b). The characteristic feature, therefore, of the magician, whether Greek or Oriental, is that he does evil and does it in secret ; and that characteristic marks him off from the exorcist who uses his power openly and for good. What is common to the two classes of men is that both have power — power to bind down or defix — whom they will. What is distinctive of the two classes is the purpose for which, and the mode in which, each exercises its power. Exercised for the good of the community and in accordance with the will of the gods of the community, this personal power is rehgious. Exercised for the injury of any member of the community, this personal power is magic. 3. Defiocionum Tabellae: Jevons 139 Such personal power, in itself, is neither rehgious nor magical : it becomes the one or the other according to the use which the person possessing it puts it to. And the use he puts it to may be inferred from a simple consideration of the question whether he seeks concealment or not. The defixionum tabeUae were concealed (Tac. Ann. ii. 69 ' reperiebantur solo ac parietibus erutae ', Pap. mag. cxxi ver. 458 tj TroTa/xov ^ y^v ^ edkaa-a-av Tyyovv rj OriK-qv r) ets #£ap) ; and their concealment testifies to the fact that they were regarded as magical ; just as the omission of the names of the writers shows that their authors feared detection. I submit, therefore, that we must regard the defixionum tabellae as magical ; and that we cannot agree with Wuensch and AudoUent in regarding them as rehgious. QUESTIONS CONCERNING THE DIONYSIAC RITES OF SACRIFICE 1 By L. R. FARNELL. (Abstkact) Legends and records of cult attest the ancient prevalence of the ritual ia Dionysiac religion that may be called w/io^ayta and o-irapay ju,os; in which a victim was violently torn to pieces and instantly devoured by the votaries of the God. The legends of Orpheus, Pentheus, the Minyan and Argive women, the Corinthian story of Aktaion, when critically analysed, point to the immolation by rending of a human incarnation of the deity. And the animals upon whom the same ritual was performed, the bull, the goat, and the fawn, were specially those in which the deity was considered to embody himself from time to time. The rite is therefore a savage form of blood-sacrament ; those who perform it desire by drinking the hot blood and swallowing the raw fiesh to absorb the divine spirit and thus to charge them- selves with the divine power. The partakers are his most ardent devotees, and the story of the Titans only arose from a later misunder- standing. The rite was part of the orgiastic ecstasy pecuUar to this religion, the object of which was not solely, as Rohde regarded it, the desire of communion with God, but partly also the exaltation of the personal will-power for the working of vegetation-magic. And we must distinguish this sacramental oTrapay/nds of the human or animal incarnation of the god from other ritual that might express the annual disappearance or death and return or resurrection of the ^ The paper was part of the chapter on Dionysiac ritual in vol. v, which will shortly appear, of Farnell's Cults of the Oreek States. 140 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans deity in winter and spring. For we have sufficient evidence for believing that it was trieteric only and was always performed in the winter ; and the chief problem is the explanation of the immemorial observance of this trieteric rule. The ordinary explanations are easily shown to be inappropriate ; the trieteric o-Trapay/ios cannot be a mimetic expression of the annual death of the deity of vegetation in the fall of the year ; still more unconvincing is the suggestion that it was in some way prompted by the habit of correcting the lunar calendar every other year to harmonize it with the solar ; for the Greeks themselves only corrected theirs every eight years, and the trieteric ritual belonged to Thracian savagery. Primitive festivals are usually suggested by the primitive needs of man ; and the only thing of importance that happens occasionally every other year in winter among primitive communities is the shifting of land-cultivation, the breaking up of new soil, the old having become exhausted after two crops. At such a time the vegetation-god— the Thracian Dionysos — would be specially called upon to bless and enrich the new tilths, and the Maenads and others who worked the vegetation-magic would have to charge themselves with exceptional potency. They could best attain this by blood-sacrament. One example at least has been found among primitive tribes of special ritual performed every other year on occasion of the land- shifting ; and more may be forthcoming. THE RELIGIOUS ELEMENT IN PLATO By lewis CAMPBELL Dr. Edwaed Caied, in his work on The Evolution of Theology in the Greek Philosophers, has traced the development of Plato's thought in its religious aspect with a completeness which, as he truly says, has been made ' easier since the order of the Platonic dialogues has been approximately determined by hnguistic considerations irrespective even of the doctrines taught in them '. The same approximate solution of the problem set by Schleiermacher has been accepted by Dr. Theodor Gomperz in his Griechische Denker^ and previously by W. Lutoslawski in his volume entitled Plato's Logic. The order so determined partly coincides with that adopted on different grounds by Professor Henry Jackson, and is followed to some extent by Jowett in his later editions. ' See his notes to vol. ii (vol. iii of English translation), passim. 5. 2Vie Religious Element in Plato : Lewis Campbell 141 It is important that the successive stages in Plato's mental attitude which this order manifests should be generally recognized. For it is still too much the habit of writers on the philosophy of religion to credit Plato with a barren inteUectualism or an equally fruitless mysticism. Plato's Platonism, if I may be pardoned the expression, is not a system deduced from one great principle, but a gradually developing theory, setting out from the conversations of Socrates and his search for ethical universals : thence proceeding to the reality of universals, conceived as separable from particulars, of which they are the causes and the prototypes ; and again from this crude ontology, enveloped in a haze of imagination, towards a clearly reasoned logic and psychology, in which the ideas, while stiU objective, are seen as forms of thought, in regular subordination to the supremacy of Mind : — from which point of view a fresh effort is made to realize ultimate truths, and not merely, as Jowett said, to ' connect ', but to afply them. From the inspiration of the Symposium, the mystical exaltation of the Piiaedo, and the more comprehensive visions of the Phaedrus we are led, through the dry light of the Parmenides, towards a more sober but stiU enthusiastic view, — first in the finely balanced theories of perception and knowledge propounded in the Theaetetus, and after- wards, with the help of the Eleatic Stranger, through a critical examina- tion of earlier and contemporary philosophies, to a new and more distinct manner of contemplating the nature of Being, and of the ideas in their mutual relations to one another and to the actual world. Thus Plato's philosophy, while rising to greater heights of ideahsm, becomes at the same time more practical. ' Becoming ' is no longer despised, but as dominated by Being acquires reality in the form of Production. Sensations are not discarded, but analysed and ex- plained. Opinion is not disregarded, but right Opinion, tested and directed by Reason, is seen to be fruitful in results. Even oratory with a right motive (not pr/ropiKi? but pT/Topeia) has a place assigned to it.i Such, in rough outline, is the upward and downward path^ — upward to the abstract, and then downward to the true concrete — which shapes the curve of Platonic evolution. Now at every stage in this progress there are two factors present, correlated but not formally connected : the factor of experience and simple reflection and the factor of abstract reasoning. Each varies as the other varies, but the former is not to be strictly interpreted by the latter. Some of Plato's noblest anticipations of truth arise directly from simple reflection on experience. The purpose of the present paper is to indicate in outline the elements ' Polit. 304 A ; cp. Legg. iv. 711 DE. ^ Compare Heraclitus's d86s avo) xdro) liia. 142 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans of ethical emotion concomitant mth the dialectic process, the moral and religious atmosphere which accompanies and, as it were, invests each successive phase of Plato's philosophic thought. For in Plato, as I have tried to show in my volume on Religion in Greek Literature^ morality and religion coincide. In the short time at my disposal I shall say nothing of Orphic or Pythagorean elements, or of possible echoes of Zoroastrianism ; but confine attention to what I conceive to be the original and independent movements of Plato's mind. I. Even in the small dialogues, where Socrates in pursuance of his Divine mission is searching for ethical principles determined by know- ledge, there are flashes of Platonic insight, as in the question : ' Is a thing right because God wills it? ' or, 'Does He wiU it because it is right ? ' ^ And again, ' If evils were done away, what would happen then ? ' 3 In the vivid dramatic portraiture of the Protagoras, Socrates main- tains the unity of Virtue,* and insists that it must have a scientific basis, which for the time is made to depend on a calculation of the amount of pleasure.^ Protagoras distinguishes between the parts of Virtue and upholds the reality of ordinary civic virtue, depending on habit. In this he supplies the factor of experience, and that Plato attaches importance to his view appears from the statem^ent that an Athenian who found himseK amongst savages could not but be aware that he was a civilized human being. The dialogue raises a problem to be partially solved afterwards in the Meno, and more successfully in the Eepublic. Meanwhile philosophic inquiry has risen from single aspects, such as courage or temperance, to the consideration of Virtue as a whole ; and from the bare assertion that Virtue is Knowledge to the demand for a science of measurement by which all ethical values may be determined. Towards the end of the Meno there is a distinct allusion to the death of Socrates. But, apart from the Apologia, it is in the Gorgias that we feel for the first time the full effect of his master's martyrdom on Plato's mind. The ideahzed Socrates is seen in irreconcilable controversy with the man of the day. The power of goodness is set over against the mere lust of power. Not Knowledge now, but Eighteousness, is the key-note ; and ' Longmans, 1898. " Euthyphro 10 D. » Lysis 220 E. ' Opposition between parts of virtue is admitted in Polit. 306 C, Legg. xii. 964, cp. vi. 773 C. The guardians of the Laws must have learnt in what sense Virtue is at once one and many (Legg. xii. 965 f.). " The comparison of present with past and future (Theaet. 186) is already implied. 5. The Religious Element in Plato : Lewis Campbell 143 Pleasure is left out of sight. Justice at aU costs is alone the secret of success. And this ethical theme is ratified by the religious thought of future Judgement. It follows that Because Right is Right, to follow Right Were wisdom in the scorn of Consequence. Mr. John Stuart Mill, while criticizing the ' paralogisms' of the Gorgias, was thrUled by its moral eloquence. The fact that Greek Philosophy was mainly evolved in terms of thought, while the nomenclature of the active elements in human nature was immature, is apt to disguise the large place which the will-power occupies in Plato. Such a word as ' volitional ' would have been alien to his vocabulary. Yet in the Oorgias, for example, what better has the naked soul to present before her judge than an uncorrupted Will — a life in which that desire of good, which according to the Platonic Socrates is always there, has not been crossed by erring and perverse determinations ? In this connexion I may refer to a passage from T. H. Green's Prolegomena, quoted in Prof. Muirhead's Service of the State, p. 33 : — ' The great Greek thinkers' account of the highest form of human good : " It is the will to know what is true, to make what is beautiful, to endure pain and fear, to resist the allurements of pleasure (i.e. to be brave and temperate), if not, as the Greek would have said, in the service of the State, yet in the interest of some form of human society ; to take for oneself, and give to others, of those things which admit of being given and taken, not what one is inclined to, but what is due." ' (Prolegomena to Ethics, p. 276.) We pass from philosophy militant to philosophy in retreat ; from Socrates against the world to Socrates among his friends. In the Symposium we already breathe the atmosphere of the Academy. That ' birth in beauty ' of which Diotima speaks, is the fruit of inter- course of mind with mind. The goal of aspiration is now the height of contemplation ; and it might seem as if this consummation of the intellectual life were barren of practical effect. But (1) not only noble thoughts, but noble endeavours, actions, institutions, laws, form a cardinal stage in the progress towards perfection ; (2) the ' ocean of beauty ' where the soul finally expatiates, is not felt to be a mere abstraction, but as the immanence of a Divine and immortal nature in all noble and beautiful things ; and (3) whatever is vague in Diotima's scheme is rendered definite through the personality of Socrates in the prime of life, whose courage, fortitude, endurance, faithfulness, and absolute purity are set forth in concrete reality side by side with his inexhaustible and unequalled power of contemplation. Yet another aspect of the idealized Socrates, neither in conflict nor in fruition, but in withdrawal from the world, is presented in the 144 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans Phaedo. For the fullness of life we have now the meditation of death. Divinity is seen not as immanent, but as transcendent ; the soul not merely partakes of immortality, but is herself immortal. As a proof of continued personal existence the Phaedo is acknowledged to be incomplete. It could hardly be otherwise while Plato was still strug- gling with the half -mythical form of his ideal theory.^ The sharp opposition between thought and sensible perception is not afterwards maintained. But that the assertion of personal immortality is the outcome of profound conviction is evident from the reply of Socrates to Crito's question, ' How shall we bury you ? ' ^ ' How you will, if you can find me.' And the conception of the Good as the supreme cause,* together with the whole tone of the dialogue, and the final reflection, ' What sort of persons, then, ought we to be ?' * give assur- ance of an entire interpenetration of religion with morahty. The soul that rises to the gods * has been purified by philosophy not only from the illusions of sense and opinion, but from a sensual and un- spiritual hfe. II. The Republic marks the first step in the descent from these heights of abstract speculation towards a concrete embodiment of the ideal, from retired contemplation to active endeavour. The theme of the Gorgias is resumed, but in a more genial spirit and with a wider scope. Plato's faith in his ideal inspires fresh hopes for the improv- ability of mankind. Human life as it is abounds with evils,* but if philosophy were but worthily represented, men would accept her guidance.'' It would be out of place in this short paper to enlarge on what is so familiar. I must content myself with a few scattered observations : — - 1. Justice in the Qorgias was individual — the health of the soul. The aloofness of Socrates, there ironically described as the only true course in politics, is the position of the philosopher taking shelter behind a wall while the storm rages.* It is now seen that justice is a social principle and can only be realized in a community. 2. The difiiculty raised in the Protagoras and partially solved in the Memo, about ordinary civic virtue, is met through the division of labour between the legislative, administrative, and industrial classes in the state. Thus a place is found for a subordinate excellence, depending not on a self-conscious principle, nor on a divinely implanted instinct, but on willing obedience to the philosophic ruler. ' There is an anticipation of the subjective aspect of the ideas in the phraseology of p. 103 B oifre T(i iv fjiiiv ovre to fV TJj (f'va-ei, and in 75 D ols im(r(f>payi.C6iie8a avTo 6 cart. ' i'Aaed 115 C. =■ Phaed. 99 C, not now t6 «,\6i>. ' Phaed. 114 DE. « Phaed. 82 BC. • Bep. ii. 379 C. ' -Bep- ■"• 499 DP. « Bep. vi. 496 D ; of. Gorg. 521 D. 5. TTie Religious Element in Plato : Lewis Campbell 145 3. The factor of experience and simple reflection of which I spoke at first is especially prominent in the Republic. The remark that a good man cannot harm an enemy ^ is not deduced from the ideas, nor is the fine observation about the difference of the judge from the physician,^ nor many other such obiter dicta. Even the ' types of theology ' ^ ' God is good ' and ' God is true ' belong rather to the strain of simple reflection which accompanies than to the dialectical movement which determines Plato's progress towards systematic thought. 4. As already observed* Plato's ideal is at once theoretical and practical, combining volition with reason. The Form of Good is the meeting-point of ' Will and Idea '. The philosophic nature is courageous, enduring, generous, as well as indefatigable in the pursuit of truth. Nor is the ' father of ideaHsm ' indifferent to the ' Pragmatic Test '. What else is impUed in the twice-repeated maxim ' The beneficial is the admirable and the holy ' ? ^ 5. The theory of ideas, as expounded in R&p. v-vii, has advanced beyond the position of the Phaedo, and is nearly parallel to the teaching of the Phaedriis.^ The ascent to the ' unconditioned ' and descent from it through a chain of concepts is closely parallel to the account of generahzation and division ia the Phaedrus {Rep. vi. 511, Phaedr. 265-6). (1) There is a gradation from the lower to the higher, reaching upwards to the Idea of Good : (2) it is once imphed that there is a participation of the ideas in one another '' : and (3) there is a downward as well as an upward pathway. But, on the other hand, the line of separation between universal and particular, between knowledge and sensible perception, is still sharply drawn, and the ' downward path- way ' ends not in actuality but in ideas.® Astronomy and Harmony are to be studied independently of any observation of phenomena.* 6. Thus in the Republic and the Phaedrus Plato anticipates, but is not yet prepared to formulate, that clearer view of the ideas and of dialectic, which he afterwards elaborately wrought out in the Sophist, Politicus, and Philebus. For, as Matthew Arnold sings : — ' Tasks in hours of insight willed May be through hours of gloom fulfilled.' 7. Meanwhile the depth of moral and religious emotion which is ' Rep. i. 335 B. ^ Rep. iv. ' Rep. ii. 379 sq. ' Swpra, p. 143. ' Rep. v. 457 B, 458 B. ° It has sometimes occurred to me — without yielding to those who would dismember the Republic — to suppose that the Phaedrus may have been composed during some interval in the preparation of the larger work ; when Plato was weary for the time of written dialogue and turned for refreshment to the Academy — the enthusiasm of the teacher having eclipsed the ambition of the writer. ' R&p. V. 476 A. » Rep. vi. 611 C. ' Rep. 527 D, 529 B, 531 Asq. C.B. II L 146 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Ramans associated with Plato's intellectual ideal breaks forth in many pas- sages, of which the most significant are the Vision of Judgement and the Choice of Lives in Bk. x/ and the concluding sentences of Bk. ix ^ — the Pattern in the Heavens. And we may note in passing the conces- sion to Hellenic tradition implied in the reference to Delphi,^ and in the prayer to Pan and the nymphs with which the PJiaedrus ends. III. A crisis in Plato's mental history is revealed in the Parmenides. He has become aware that until certain speculative difficulties raised by the earlier philosophies have been removed, and until his own theory of ideas has been developed on purely dialectical lines, his efforts towards the attainment of truth and the improvement of man- kind must be unavailing. Only when the problems treated in the Parmenides, centreing in the One and Many, had been fairly and squarely met, could such a reasoned and weU-balanced view as that in the Theaetetus become possible. Let any one read consecutively (1) the locus classicus in the Phaedo,^ and the corresponding sentences in the Cratylus, (2) Rep. vi, vii, and the Phaedrus side by side ; and then turn to the following passage of the Theaetetus ^ : — ' What you perceive through one faculty you cannot perceive through another ; the objects of hearing, for example, cannot be perceived through sight, or the objects of sight through hearing. ... If you have any thought about both of them, this common perception cannot come to you either through the one or the other organ. . . . How about sound and colour ? In the first place you would admit that they both exist . . . and that either of them is different from the other and the same with itself . . . and that both are two and each of them one. , . . You can further observe whether they are like or unlike one another But through what do you perceive all this about them ? For neither through hearing nor yet through seeing can you apprehend that which they have in common. . . . What power or instrument will determine the general notions which are common not only to the senses but to all things, and which you call being and not-being, and the rest of them, about which I was just now asking — what organ will you assign for the perception of these ? Theaet. You are speaking of being and not-being, likeness and unhkeness, sameness and difference, and also of unity and other numbers which are applied to objects of sense ; and you mean to ask through what bodily organ the soul perceives odd and even number and other arithmetical notions. Socrates. You follow me excellently : . . . that is precisely what I am asking. Theaet. Indeed, Socrates, I cannot answer ; my only notion is that they have no separate organs, but that the soul, by a power of her own, contem- plates the universal in all things. Socrates. You have done well in releasing me from a very long discussion, if you are clear that the soul ' Bep. X. 614-21. ' Rep. ix. 692 B. = Sep. iv. 427 B. ' Phaed. 100 sq. ; Cratylus 440. " Theaet. 185 A-187 B (Jowett's translation). 5. The Religious Element in Plato : Lewis Campbell 147 views some things by herself and others through bodily organs. ... . To which class would you refer being or essence ? For this, of all our notions, is the most universal. Theaet. I should say, to that class which the soul aspires to know of herself. Socrates. And would you say this also of like and unlike, same and other ? Theaet. Yes. Socrates. And would you say the same of the noble and base, and of good and evil ? Theaet. These I conceive to be notions which are essentially relative, and which the soul also perceives by comparing things past and present with the future. Soctates. And does she not perceive the hardness of that which is hard by the touch, and the softness of that which is soft equally by the touch ? . . . But their essence and what they are, and their opposition to one another, and the essential nature of this opposition, the soul herself endeavours to decide for us by the review and comparison of them. . . . The simple sensations which reach the soul through the body are given at birth to men and animals by nature, but their reflections on these and on their relations to being and use, are slowly and hardly gained, if they are ever gained, by education and long experience.' Here it is evident — 1. That ideas are no longer ' hypostatized ', but seem in true relation to particulars and to the mind itself and in subordination to one another. 2. While stiU objective, they are no longer regarded as separable ■entities, but as notions or forms of thought to which the soul attains, not now through reminiscence, but through her inherent logical activity working on the data of experience given in perception. They are a sort ■of ' predicables ', under which particular objects are conceived. 3. Whilst ethical universals, 'noble and base,' 'good and evil,' still rank amongst the highest ideas, they no longer form the main constituents of the ideal world — other objects of knowledge, not less important, are being, sameness, difference, unity, and number ; which form a class of summa genera, or categories. This notion reappears in the image of the aviary (Theaet. 197D). We are evidently on our way towards the dialectical elaboration which is afterwards assigned to the Eleatic Stranger.^ 4. The senses are no longer held in contempt. Their objects are perceived through the bodily senses indeed, but hy the mind. The analysis of sensible perception here attributed to Protagoras as a theory of knowledge, is Plato's own theory of sensation as such. For it recurs with little change in the Timaeus.'^ 5. In place of the old difficulty of unconscious virtue, we have now the puzzle, ' How is false opinion possible ? ' Right opinion has a higher ' Thus the arguments of Ueberweg, who saw clearly the difference between the earlier and later theories, and therefore condemned the Sophist, fall to the _ ground. ' Tim. 64 sq. l2 148 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans value than before. Not vice so much as ignorance is now regarded as involuntary. 6. To return to the immediate subject of this paper ; the dialectical movement in the Theaetetus is accompanied with a deep moral and religious vein. No passage even of the Phaedo or Republic is more impressive than the solemn digression which Theodoras welcomes as a relief from the strain of abstract thought ; where the process of growing like to God, which is the one thing needful, turns, not on the contemplation of the beautiful, but on righteousness with holiness and wisdom combined. From the Theaetetus onwards the figurative and semi-mythical language is to a great extent disused. ' Communion,' ' participation,' &c., now express the relation, not of particular to universal, but of the lower ideas to the higher. There is also a new name for such participation, ' to be affected by ' — weTrovOivai or ■n-ddo's l^""-^ The tSe'a is a unity at once perceived and stamped by the mind on the particulars composing a genus.^ IV. At this point there is evidence of a further ' crisis ', or rather of a break in Plato's career both as a thinker and as a man. Although the Sophist and Politicus form a continuation of the Theaetetus, there is a palpable change of style, implying an interval, and an interval in which much has happened. For one thing, the gentle, unforced humour, which still played around the talk of Socrates to Theaetetus has vanished, never to return. The person of Socrates himself is partly withdrawn ; and in the Politicus especially there is a strain of sadness and even of bitterness that is personal to the writer. What- ever may be the truth about Sicily, the author of this dialogue has evidently, as I said in my edition,^ some ground of quarrel with man- kind. Plato resumes the dialectical process with a greatly enlarged horizon, and at the same time his thought ' takes a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.' 1. Already in the Theaetetus we find allusions to philosophical schools which had not emerged when the Protagoras was composed. But in the Sophist both earlier and contemporary philosophies, his own included, are examined from a wider and more comprehensive point of view, resulting in a new synthesis and constructive theory of knowing and being ; while in the Politicus the city-states of Hellas far and ' Farm. 148 A, Soph. 245 A. ^ Polit. 258 C ISiav uvTJj jilav imirippay'uraadai (' to stamp upon it one ideal form '). ° The Sophistes and Politicus of Plato, with Introduction and Notes, Oxford,„ 1867. 5. The Religious Element in Plato : Lewis Campbell 149 wide are surveyed with a penetrative glance, condemning the actual statesmen as impostors, and the so-called constitutions, democratic, oligarchic, and monarchical, as hollow frauds, destined to founder in some world-storm {Polit. 302 sq., cp. Legg. iv. 715 B, 717 B, viii. 332 B). 2. The speculative reasoning of the Sophist attained a point of view from which an idealist might be expected to infer the unreality of evil. Very different is Plato's mode of contemplating the actual world. If we compare the calm statement in the Theaetetus (176 A) that there must always be something to oppose the good, with the dereliction of the Universe by its Creator till it threatens to fall into the abyss of dissolution (Polit. 273 D) : or the humorous suggestion that a pig or a baboon may be the ' measure of things ' {Theaet. 161 C), with the grave classification in which swine and monkeys are con- geners of man (Polit. 266), and with the description of the actual statesmen as lions, foxes, centaurs, satyrs, and the hke (Polit. 291), the profound disillusionment implied in the later dialogue (especially if we compare Rep. iv. 499 D) becomes apparent. Plato is sick at heart ; but he abates nothing of his endeavour in the cause of human improvement and the advancement of truth. The distance between the Divine and human is increasingly felt, but there is a firm determination to meet existing evils with practical remedies. Plato does not relinquish his ideal ; but is determined to bring it to bear upon the actual, if not immediately, yet more and more effectively. 3. Theocracy — ^i.e. the rule of perfect wisdom over willing sub- jects — ^is found to be inapplicable to such a creature as man in such a world as the present : the scientific statesman can only imitate the Divine monarch from afar. And as he cannot always be present with his people, the second-best course, which is ordinarily the best avail- able, is that they should be made to live in obedience to Law. Govern- ment through law is a necessary compromise between first principles and circumstances. Philosophy cannot dispense with tradition. Thus the ground is laid for the Laws, Plato's final legacy to the Hellenic race. 4. Meanwhile, through the reasoning in the Sophist, metaphysical theory has undergone an important change. The relativity or inter- communion of ideas, uniting same and other, one and many, motion and rest, has bridged the chasm between being and becoming, and justifies an increasing interest, both theoretical and practical, in processes of all kinds and in production. This descent towards the concrete is signalized by some novelties of expression : (1) the use of y£Vos = £l8os, marking the comprehensiveness of the idea (Phil. 26 D, &c. ; cp. ep6vT (3) Ever since the acknowledgement in Soph. 248 E that the highest Being cannot be devoid of life and movement, but must involve a vital principle, the ' theory of ideas ' has been gradually resolving itself into a conviction of the priority of Mind to Matter and of the Sovereignty of Reason. And these, as already said, are the cardinal doctrines of the Laws. 2. The Laws at many points recall the earlier dialogues. Thus in speaking of soul or mind as immortal, and the eldest of created things, the argument of the Phaedrus where the soul is defined as self-moving or self-determining reappears. And, as in the Phaedo, the behef in immortality, however supported, includes the continuation of personal existence. The soul is the self, and departs to another state of being (xii. 959 B, 967 D).^ And it is observable that in asserting the priority of mind, not intellect alone, but active powers are expressly mentioned {^Orj, ySovXiJo-ets, cTn^uXeiai, ' characters, volitions, beneficent cares,' X. 896 C). Even in the Timaeus (81 D), in describing natural death, where the soul delightedly escapes from the burden of the flesh, it seems to be forgotten that, according to another passage (65 A), delight belongs to the mortal part of the soul. ' The view of the Symposium, in which participation of immortality is involved in the continuation of the race, also reappears in Legg. v. 721 C. 152 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans 3. Modem ideaKsts complain that Plato never wholly gets rid of duahsm. The evil soul in Bk. x (896 E) is an offence to them. But when the reality of Evil is once accepted as a fact of experience and adopted as a working hypothesis, is there after all much difference between the Universe being left for an aeonian cycle to the guidance of ' inborn desire ', till it runs on the verge of ruin, as in Polit. 273, and the temporary existence of a spirit of evil, to be ultimately overborne by the good ? On this subject I may give myself the pleasure of quoting from the late Dr. Adam's work on The Religions Teachers of Greece (p. 466) :— ' Plato was too profoundly convinced of the effects of evil, both physical and moral, in the world as it now is, to acquiesce in a pan- theistic denial of its existence. He tells us more than once thart there is more evil than good in human life : and no one can read the extra- ordinarily powerful description in the Republic of the tyrannical man, the living embodiment of active maleficence and vice, without feeling that moral evil at all events was something more to Plato than merely the absence or privation of good.' There are passages in the Laws which recall the ' pessimism ' of the PoliticTis. But it has mellowed into a regretful, haK-pitying, half- tolerant consideration for the feebleness of humanity. It is true that Plato cannot be accused of Pantheism. The Supreme Being, that is one with Divine Reason, is at once immanent and transcendent. (See esp. Legg. xn. 957.) 4. But he has travelled a good way from ' Socratism '. This appears especially in the discussion of the voluntary and involuntary in ix. 860. And that last stage of ' ignorance ' in which a man says ' Evil, be thou my good ' {Legg. iii. 689 A) is a condition of which Socrates would have denied the possibility. The place assigned to pleasure in the Laws is a sort of compromise between the extreme views of the Protagoras and the Philebus. 5. In these last efforts for the promotion of truth and the improve- ment of mankind, Plato in a spirit of accommodation makes large concessions to Hellenic tradition. In this there is here and there a trace of irony, as where he speaks of the gods who exist by custom (Legg. xii. 889), or of the heroes who declared themselves sons of God and must surely have known their own parentage {Tim. 40 D). But there is a more serious intention in the institution of local and depart- mental sanctities {Legg. v. 738 D), and in the special functions assigned to Ares (viii. 833, xi. 930), Artemis (viii. 833), Demeter and Core (vi. 782), Dionysus (vii. 812), Eileithyia (vi. 784), Hephaestus (xi. 920), Hera (vi. 774), Hestia (viii. 848), and above all to Apollo, whose worship is associated with that of the Sun (xii. 945, 947 ; also viii. 833). These matters, however, are not on a par with the worship of the 5. The Religious Element in Plato : Lewis Campbell 153 Heavenly Bodies ; still less with the Sovereignty of Divine Reason as forming an element in Plato's personal religion. 6. That Plato, who in the Bepvblic left the details of legislation to his philosopher-kings, should in his book of the Laws attempt to provide for every conceivable circumstance, and that the author of the scheme of Communism should so impressively dilate upon the dues of domestic piety, need surprise no one who has fully considered the argument of the Politicus. 7. It is a fact fuU of pathetic significance, that in extreme old age, with the consciousness of failing powers {Legg. vi. 752 A,^ 770 A^), the author of the Bepublic turned aside from the Philosopher dialogue, which should have crowned the metaphysical edifice, and from com- pleting the Critias, that was to exhibit the ideal Commonwealth in act, — ^to transfer the rich outcome of his ripe experience into a body of precepts for the benefit of posterity. Great as was the dialectical movement — ^immense, and as yet unexhausted, as has been its influence on succeeding philosophies, beginning with Aristotle — ^it is evident that the ethical and religious impulse, derived primarily from Socrates, lay really at the root of Plato's lifelong endeavour. Lastly, that, while more than once evincing an esteem for Hippocrates {Protag. 311 B, Phaedrus 270 C), he should have failed adequately to realize the value of the Coan's method of observation, and that he probably despised Democritus, are facts only too much in accordance with what has happened to great thinkers in other times. The account of Sir Isaac Newton in Hegel's History of Philosophy betrays a corre- sponding blindness. ' av . . . yiipas ciTiKpaTS>n€v to 76 ToaouTov, 'if we can SO far overcome the infirmity of age.' ' rjliels 8' (V Sva-iiois tov piov, ' while our hfe is at its setting.' 154 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans BIRD AND PILLAR WORSHIP IN CONNEXION WITH OURANIAN DIVINITIES By jane ELLEN HARRISON ' Thou from the first Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread Dove-hke sat'st brooding on the vast abyss And madst it pregnant.' August Fick i has told us that the Leleges worshipped Twins and Birds. Into the ethnology of this mysterious and shifting people I do not propose to enter. But I want to ask, and, it may be, in part to answer, the question : Was there in ancient Greece a regular cult of birds ? a worship acknowledged, orthodox, well-defined ; and, if such a cult existed, what was its significance ? Had I asked the question some five years ago, my answer must have been vague and halting. I might have pointed to sacred birds as attributes of certain divinities, the Eagle of Zeus, the Owl of Athena, the Swan of Apollo. I might have added that in Greek mythology stories of bird-metamorphoses abound. Such are the myths of Tereus, Procne, and Philomela, of Msos and Skylla, of the Meleagrides, of the Hehades. With these myths were apt to be connected stories of bird paternities ; and these bird paternities, I might have noted, had special affinity with Twin divinities, as with Leda and the Swan, the Dioscuri and the MoHonidae.^ Turning to hterature, it would have been impossible even then to forget the kingdom of the birds pictured to us by Aristophanes, his reminiscence ^ of olden times, when Zeus was not, and the woodpecker was king. But all this must have seemed matter for poetical fancy, haunting the imagination but scarcely affording precise evidence for definite Bird-cults. To-day we stand upon firmer ground. On the famous Hagia Triada sarcophagus (Fig. 1) * discovered at Phaistos, we have evidence clear and indefeasible that in Minoan days there was a pubHc cultus of birds with regular established ritual. The scene there depicted explains itself. To the right is a shrine with a sacred tree ; in front a low basis ; on it a pillar, which in the preceding design was obviously a palm stem. The pillar is surmounted ' Vorgriech. Ortsnamen, pp. 113-114. ' Ibycus, frag. 16. ' Ar. Av. 480. * Bevue Biblique, 1907, p. 342, Pig. 34, M. J. Lagrange; reproduced here by kind permission of MM. J. Gabalda et Cie. I examined the sarcophagus myself five years ago in the Candia Museum, but I was not stud3dng bird- worship at the time, and my remembrance of the character of the bird is vague. 6. Bird and Pillar Worship .- Harrison 155 by a double-axe, on which is perched a bird of black colour, possibly a pigeon ' or, as Dr. Evans suggests, a black woodpecker. In all there are three objects of worship, a trinity of birds surmounting a trinity of double-axes and palms. And, delightful fact, it is clear as day that these birds are no decorative adjuncts but the objects of a definite cult. In the one design three worshippers approach, one with a great lyre, the second with a basket of offerings, while the foremost pours Ubations into a situla. In the second design ^ the action is less clear ; but we have in front of the holy bird a basket of fruit, an oinochoe, and a small portable altar. We have then before us clear evidence of the worship of birds. Two of the worshippers are dressed in the skins of some animal, and the robes end in tails. It is tempting to see in these ritual robes feather dresses ending in ' bird '-tails, but Dr. Evans and Professor von Duhn pronounce against this view. It may, however, be worth pointing out that in the bird-worship of Egjrpt the priestess of a bird-goddess did actually wear a bird robe, as we see in Fig. 2. Here we have the image of a Carthaginian priestess on a sarcophagus found at Bord-el- Djedid.^ The priestess wears the dress of the Egyptian goddess Isis- Nephthys ; her body is hidden by the two wings of the sacred vulture, which enfold the hips and cross in front. The vulture's head appears above the head-dress. The colouring of the feathers is vivid blue ; but the colourless reproduction here shown gives but a sUght idea of the lovehness of the bird-priestess. In her right hand she holds a bird. This bird-dress is not a mere curiosity. It is a ritual fact of the first importance. What is the good of dressing up as a bird, imless the bird is a being stronger and hoHer than yourself, whose divine nature you seek to put on with his feathers ? Phoenicia may seem remote ; Ephesus is nearer home. Among the strange and beautiful archaic ivory statuettes found by Mr. Hogarth under the basis of the Artemis statue at Ephesus is that of a priestess (Fig. 3).* She carries a sacrificial vessel, while on her head is a huge pole surmounted by a hawk-hke bird, evidently to be carried in ritual procession. Was Artemis herself once a bird-goddess ? I return to Crete. Dr. Evans's Dove-Goddess (Pig. 4),^ which I now place before you, is familiar to all. She was found, it will be remem- '■ According to Aristotle, the pigeon {(tiaTTa) was the largest of the dove species, about the size of a cock, and ashy in colour : Ar. H. A. 13, 544 b iiiyiarov {tSiv nepiarepoeiSav) r} (paTTa e'a-rt. Cf. frag. 271, 1527 (ap. Athen. ix. 394 a) a\eKTnpos to fieycSos fx.ei, to xpS>iui aTroSiov, ' Lagrange, op. cit.. Pig. 35. * Mabel Moore, Carthage of the Phoenicians, 1905 ; frontispiece in colour, and p. 146 : reproduced here by kind permission of Mr. Heinemann, ' Ephesus, pi. xxii. ° B. S. A. viii, p. 99, Fig. 56. 156 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans bered, in the miniature shrine with the horns of consecration and the double-axes. On the head of the half-anthropomorphic figure is settled a dove, and on the breast of the goddess or priestess it is surely not fanciful to see in the painted decoration her outspread wings.^ In hke fashion a dove is perched on the head of the gold-leaf god- desses of Mycenae (Fig. S).^ The goddess is in fact in both cases only the anthropomorphic form of the ancient dove-surmounted pillar. May I remind you of the painted terra-cotta piUars surmounted by doves, which Dr. Evans has discovered and interpreted (Fig. 6) ? ^ The worship of birds in Minoan Crete is, we may venture to hope, clearly estabhshed. We turn now to our second question : what is its significance ? The bird is perched upon a piUar. The piUar, as Dr. Evans has clearly shown, and as is evident from the Hagia Triada sarcophagus, stands for a sacred tree. That pillar, that tree, takes human shape as a goddess ; and that goddess is the Great Mother, who, taking divers shapes as Mother and Maid, develops later into Gaia, Rhea, Demeter, Dictynna, Hera, Artemis, Aphrodite, Athena. As Mother Earth she is also TloTvia ©-qpSiv, with her Hons, her stags, her snakes. And the bird ? If the tree is of the earth, the bird surely is of the heaven. In the bird brooding upon the pillar we have, I think, the primal form of the marriage of Ouranos and Gaia, of Sky the father with Earth the mother. And of that marriage sprang, as Hesiod * has told us, not only mortal man but aU the glory of the later gods. KXeterc 8' dOavdrmv lepov yevos aiev iovrwv, ol Trji T i^eyivovTO kol Oipavov acrrepocvTOS The old lovely anthropomorphism lingers on even to-day : we speak of Mother Earth, and the Church still prays to ' our Father which art in heaven'. But in the days of PiUar and Bird, anthropomorphism was not yet. The dove was not the attribute or messenger of the divine father ; it was itself the Life-spirit, the Father. Dr. Evans writes as follows : ^ ' The dove is the image of the divine descent and the consequent ' The wings were, I believe, first noticed by Mr. A. B. Cook. ' Tsountas and Manatt, Mycenaean Age, p. 101. ' B. 8. A. viii, p. 29, Fig. 14. ♦ Hesiod, Theog. 105. = J.H.8. xxi (1901),p.lOS; B. S. 4. viii, p.29. Dr. Evans further points out that when sacred doves appear in their simplest European form, they are generally associated with the sepulchral cult of the spirit of the departed. For instance, the heathen Lombards ornamented their graveposts with the effigy of a dove. See Paul. Diacon. de Oest. Langdb. This is of much interest in connexion with the fact that on the other side of the Hagia Triada sarcophagus the scene represented may be the cult of a dead man. But into this question I do not propose to enter. C. R. II, p. 106] 6. Bird and Pillar Worship : Harrison 157 possession of the betylic column by a spiritual being. Among primitive races to-day the spiritual being constantly descends on the tree or stone in the form of a bird.' Dr. Evans, if I rightly understand him, regards the dove as the divine hfe entering the Hfeless pillar and becoming substantially one with it. I venture on a shght but, I think, not unimportant modification of this view. I regard the conjunction of bird and pillar as the union of two divine hves, male and female ; as in fact the primitive form of what later took hterary shape and name, and greater precision of sex.i as the marriage of Ouranos and Gaia, Father and Mother. But how is this view ^ to be reconciled with an undoubted fact observed by Mr. Evans ? In Aegean lands the dove early became the attribute of not a god but a goddess. Dare we take from Aphrodite the ' doves that drew her ', and give them to a man-god, be he ever so Ouranian ? And, on the other hand, if the pillar be the vehicle or phytomorphic form of Gaia the Earth-Mother, what becomes of the Oak-Zeus whose branches Mr. Cook has made to shadow all the land ? The explanation is simple and, I trust, convincing. We are all right. In matriarchal lands the stress of parentage is laid on the Mother, and she tends to assimilate the doves, the attributes of the Father. Aphro- dite is herself ' Ouranian '. In patriarchal lands the stress is laid on the Father ; and at Dodona,'not content with his own lawful Ouranian doves, Zeus in true Olympian fashion wrests to himself the Oak-tree of the Earth-Mother. At this point I should Hke to draw attention to a class of monuments outside Greek art, in which the bird on the pillar appears as a well- estabHshed type ; I mean the Babylonian boundary-stones known as kvdurrus. Of these boundary-stones twenty complete specimens are known and sixteen fragmentary ones. They cover a period from 1350 to 650 B. C, and have recently been collected and discussed in a convenient volume by Drs. Hinke and Hilprecht.* I wiU here only * A language that has tj arriKri and 6 a-rvKos may well, as Prof. Gilbert Murray points out to me, indulge in some vagueness as to the sex of a pillar. ' This view was held independently of, and prior to me, by Mr. Cook, who expressed it to me in conversation before this paper was cast in final form. My own attention was at the time so exclusively focused on the Ouranian significance of the bird, that, but for this expression, I might never have completely grasped the symbolism of the conjunction of bird and pillar. It is specially satisfactory to me that starting from quite different points — Mr. Cook I believe from Zeus and Oak- worship, and I from the Orphic parentage of Ouranos and Gaia, and the Ouranian symbolism of birds — we should have arrived substantially at the same main conclusion. \C. R. xvii (1903), p. 408. * The Babylonian Exped. of the Univ. of Pennsylvania, ed. H. V. Hilprecht ; vol. iv by W. J. Hinke, Philadelphia, 1907: A New Boundary-Stone of Nebu~ chadnezzar I from Nijipur. 158 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans refer to the well-known kudurru (Fig. 7) ^ of the time of Nebuchadrezzar, where we have the usual Sun, Moon, and Evening Star, the symbols of various other astral divinities, and among them a bird on a pillar. The instance given is only one out of a series of thirteen. I am no OrientaUst. I bring these monuments forward not to inter- pret them, but in the confident hope that there will be Oriental scholars present who will read the riddle. Drs. Zimmern and Frank,^ by a process of exhaustion, conclude that the bird on the pillar is the symbol of Aru-ru. Aru-ru appears in the Gilgamesh story, and is associated with the creation of Ea-bani. Part of her story was transferred to the Eve of our Bible. She seems to be a kind of primal Mother. I shall be grateful to any one who can give me positive evidence of this attribution of the bird and piUar to Aru-ru. But, it may fairly be asked, is there any evidence that in Minoan and Mycenaean lands divinities of the Sky as well as of the Earth were worshipped ? The famiUar double-axe is now acknowledged on all hands to be the symbol of the thunderbolt, of Keraunos before he became Zeus-Keraunos. But the double-axe I leave to Dr. Evans and Mr. A. B. Cook. For more direct evidence of astral worship I turn to the famous gold ring from Mycenae (Fig. 8).* Here is the Earth-goddess under her great fruit-bearing tree, while above is all the glory of Ouranos, Sun and Moon, and Milky Way. If it be urged that this is mere scenic background, the evidence of a lentoid seal found in Crete cannot be gainsaid (Fig. 9).* Here is a sanctuary, and within or below the sanctuary the crescent moon — the Moon which, as Fick ^ has noted, was worshipped under the form of Endymion by those same Leleges who worshipped birds. For later evidence, showing the conjunction of birds and astral sym- bols, we have the familiar coin of Paphos (Fig. 10).* If the astral and Ouranian significance of the dove be counted problematic, there is another bird, the king of birds, who brings instant conviction. The eagle carries the thunderbolt ; the thunder- bolt is the fire-bearing eagle. Peithetairos threatening to destroy the Palace says, quoting Aeschylus : ' This Palace and Amphion's domes I will Reduce to ashes with fire- bearing eagles.' ' KaTaLuaXwcru) TrvpopoiT^). It is simply what the name says, the navel ^ of the Earth-goddess, the Mother thought of anthropomorphically. And on either side are the Ouranian parent-birds, be they eagles or crows or swans,® who brought to the Mother life and light. On a Phoenician stele (Pig. 16) ' in the Bibliothdque Nationale we have the same conjunction, the goddess and the Sky-birds. In the upper part of the design she has taken full human form. Above her is arched the sky, in her hands the sun and moon. On the well-known coin of Mallos (Fig. 17) ® in Cilicia, the aniconic Earth-goddess is attended by her two birds, by canting heraldry, half grape-bunches, half-pigeons (otmScs). And last, in a curious Egyptian design from the Book of Am-Tuat (Fig. 18) ® we have the black under-world with two Light-birds clinging to it, strangely like in pose to the golden omphalos eagles in the rare electrum stater of Cyzious reproduced in Fig. 19.^" Only a single instance is known to me in which a single bird sur- mounts the omphalos, a red-figured vase in the Naples Museum.^^ • See A. B. Cook, C.R. 1903, p. 408, Fig. 4. ' Brit. Mus. Wcdters Cat. Vases, iv. 136. ' C.R. 1903, p. 403. Herod, ii. 55. * Sparta, Cat. 468. Att. Mitth. 1887, p. 378, pi. 12. ^ H. Diels, Arcana Cerealia, p. 13, note 5. ° For the divers birds see Plut. de def. orac. i ; Pindar, Pyth. iv. 6 ; Middleton, J.H.S. ix, p. 294. ' C. Inscript. Sem. pi. xlv. No. 183. ' Svoronos, Bidl. de Corr. HeU. 1894, p. 107. D'Arcy Thompson, Glossary of Greek Birds, a. v. Olvds. ' Budge, Egyptian Heaven and Hell, i, p. 102 ; reproduced here by kind per- mission of Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench, Triibner & Co. " Cat. of Greek Coins, Mysia, pi. viii, no. 7. Similar to these birds are the eagles which perch on an imexplained object on the proto-Corinthian lekythos in the Boston Museum, Proleg.' p. 382, Fig. 116. ' Annali dell' Inst. 1865, Tav. d'agg., H. C. E. 11, p. 162] IS 6. Bird and Pillar Worship: Harrison 163 Turning finally to literature, it is, I am convinced, on no mere fancy of the comedian but on the actual foundation of ancient bird-cultus, that Cloud-cuckoo-town, Nephelokokkygia, is buDded. Did not Zeus himself woo Hera in the form of a cuckoo ? The Sky-Father in bird form woos the Earth-Maiden. He wooed her on the mountain Kokkygion near Sparta, and for that, Pausanias ^ says, was a cuckoo perched on Hera's sceptre. The Birds of Aristophanes, seen in this new religious light, would well repay detailed examination .^ There is, however, one tradition of deep religious import enshrined in the Birds, which I cannot pass by, and with which I will conclude. The birds are gods ; thus and thus only can and must the world have sprung from an egg. In the beginning of Things black-winged Night Into the bosom of Erebos dark and deep Laid a wind-bom Egg.* I venture to translate vTrrjvefuov not as ' wind-egg ' but (as I think) more literally 'wind-bom', 'wind-begotten'. The beautiful doctrine of the fatherhood of the wind and the Virgin Birth was Orphic, and is connected with the ancient Attic cult of the wind-gods, the Tritopatores, worshipped by bride and bridegroom before marriage.* The World- Egg, looking back to the divine Bird, is Orphic. Orpheus said : ' What time great Chronos fashioned in holy Aether a silver-gleaming Egg.' * The cosmic heavenly Egg lives on in the story of the Tyndaridae and of other twins. The Egg from which the Tyndaridae sprang fell from heaven ; * and, no doubt in honour of this behef , from the roof of the sanctuary of Hilaira and Phoebe — significant names — an Egg was suspended.' Twins and eggs go together, as Dr. Kaibel* has observed. Twins and birds, as we have seen, went together in the worship of the Leleges. And it is not a Uttle remarkable that in Orphic doctrine the mystery-god Phanes creeps forth from an egg, twin- natured, arsenothelys.® > Paus. ii. 17. 4, ii. 36. 1 ; of. SchoL Theoor. xv. 64. ' I think, e.g., that it is quite possible that the ov\oxyTai, somewhat odd when connected with the sacrifice of oxen, are natural enough in a bird ritual. Cf. At. Av. 622 sqq. The umbrella of Prometheus, too, has a new significance when seen as part of the ritual of a Sun and Sky god. ' Ar. Av. 692. See my Proleg.' p. 625. The Scholiast, half understanding, says xmrjviiua xaXcirai to bixa avvovalas koI fii^tas. And see Ar. de Oen. Anim. iv, p. 765 a, 23. ' Proleg.' p. 179. ' Abel, Orphica, frag. 53 km yap 'Op<^«us" cireira 8' crev^e fxiyas xpo""' a'6ipi Sicf &fov apyv by Apuleius (about a.d. 190) in his tract On the God of Socrates. There are, he says, gods celestial, visible and invisible, the latter eternal and possessed of supreme beatitude in perfect intellect. Their father, lord and author of all things, is beyond human speech and definition ; only by abstraction from the body have the sages grasped the conception of God— in a flash in the darkness. But prayer to one so inaccessible is impossible. There are, however, mediating divine powers in the air between aether and earth— daemons, by whom our desires and deserts may reach the gods ; and they in return send salvation to men. One Reason makes all things a Cosmos, all the divisions of which are entrusted to ancillary powers. This view is urged by Celsus against the Christians. The name of the Supreme is immaterial— Most High, Zeus, Adonai or Amun ; but all things being allotted to several governors, the will of these governors— angels, daemons, or heroes— should be respected. Stoic explanations of these deputy gods as natural laws or natural objects (wine, wheat, &c.) Plutarch rejected as atheistic. Such suggestions not merely involved the divine in matter, but identified 8. Daemons in the Revival of Paganism ; Glover 167 them. The Stoic doctrine of the periodic conflagration of the universe meant that these gods would ' melt like wax or tin ' ; and this was an unholy thought. Under this hierarchy of gods is a lower order of daemons of mingled nature, immortal like the gods, subject to passion like men, invisible except when they choose to be seen. To abolish the atmosphere between earth and the moon would destroy the unity of the universe, Plutarch says ; and similarly if there were no daemons, either there would be no intercourse between gods and men, or ' confusion of everything '. Some men have risen to be daemons, some daemons to be gods ; thus the orders of being are linked by natural kindliness. There is little difference between a daemon and a human soul; The daemon is a soul set free from re-birth ; the soul a daemon for the present in a body. Soul meeting soul, ' impressions of the future ' are given. The body indeed dulls the power of the soul to receive such impressions ; but in sleep, or by means of ' the enthusiastic spirit ' exhaled by the earth at Delphi, or of the Egyptian potion called Kyphi, the soul may escape this dulling influence and receive the words of daemons, which ' are borne through all things but only sound for the unruffled nature and the quiet soul '. Plutarch lays great stress on oracles. If the earth exhales ' the enthusiastic spirit ', it is not necessarily physical ; Earth is a goddess, according to ancient belief, and daemons are lords and warders of shrines. Delphi has never failed, he says, and the Pythian priestess by her responses has filled the oracle with gifts and offerings and adorned it with beautiful buildings. There were many shrines beside Delphi, where men sought oracles, Pausanias himseM describes how he consulted Trophonius at Lebadea. Strabo says that to sleep in the temple in order to obtain revelation in dreams was an essential feature of Judaism, practised in Jerusalem. It was very common throughout the world. Celsus appeals to the evidence of multitudes who have seen Asklepios at Epidauros — ' not a phantom of him, but himself healing men, doing them good and foreteUing the future '. Similarly, he says, Trophonius, Amphiaraus, &c., can be seen — ' not feigned forms slipping by ', like him who deceived the Christians. Various explanations may be offered for the facts recorded — sleight of hand, hypnotism, creduhty, the mystical experience. Luoian's Philofsevdes tiAicxAes a curious medley of superstitions, many of which are to be found in more serious books. His Alexander tells the tale of the successful foundation of a bogus oracle. Celsus, Tertullian, and Marcus Aurelius all speak of extraordinary feats of conjuring and magic often attributed to supernatural agency. The guardian daemon of the individual man is much in evidence in 168 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans the literature of the period, and Menander and Aristotle are cited in its favour. The ' daemonion of Socrates ' is the subject of books by Plutarch and Apuleius. This guardian daemon answers to the Latin genivs (or, in the case of a woman, the Juno), to the Persian fravashi, to the ' angels ' of Peter and of the little children in the New Testament, and to the ' robe ' in the Gnostic Hymn of the Sovl. On the testimony of this daemon depends a man's lot after death. The guardian could be heard in dream and omen, and might even appear in person. Apuleius says the Pythagoreans used to wonder if a man said he had never seen a daemon. Porphyry records how an Egyptian priest sought to see the daemon of Plotinus, and a higher being than he had expected came in response. Plutarch doubted such appear- ances, but he refers to an Egyptian behef that ' the spirit of a God ' could have a child by a mortal woman. Empedocles, Plutarch says, held every man has two daemons ; they appear in Hermas as a man's good and bad angels. BasUides the Gnostic is credited with describing man as a sort of Wooden Horse with an army of spirits inside him. Such words as theolept, lymphatic, enthusiasm, daemoniac, theo- phorete, testify to the behef that daemons, &c., can occupy human beings. Tertulhan speaks of water, in streams, springs, baths, and pipes, being infested by unclean spirits. It was sometimes thought that all sin and uncleanness was their work ; perhaps every act was the result of a daemonic influence ; marriage and the conception of children were peculiarly hable to this interpretation. As daemons were of mixed nature, some good and some evil, it was easy to explain the presence of evil in the universe as due to some of them. Even Celsus owns that some daemons are ' bound to blood and smoke and chanting and so forth '. To them, too, Plutarch says, we must assign the origin of revolting ritual and obscene legend in religion, e.g. human sacrifice, and the myths that speak of gods as suffering pain or dishonour. Thus philosophic paganism found God acquitted of responsibihty for evil at once by his remoteness from human contact and by the energies of evil daemons ; while by good daemons man was linked to God. Ancient tradition, philosophy, and the evidence of men's ears and eyes in oracle, trance, theolepsy, and the mysteries, proved the truth of this daemon-theory. Yet complaints were heard that the theory and the rehgion resting on it were cruel and unclean — animal- worship and the hierodule-system continued — and the human mind was dwarfed and paralyzed by the superstition that went with the behef. Fortified as it was, the system broke down — jdelding, not to the attack of philosophy or science, but to the ideas and the personahty of Jesus of Nazareth. .9 THE LATIN HISTORY OF THE WORD ' RELIGIO ' By W. WARDE fowler This word, which in its modem form is on every one's lips at this Congress, had a remarkable history in its own Latin speech and literature. That history seems to me to have more than a mere linguistic interest, and I propose in this paper to indicate in outline where that interest lies. Of the much disputed etymology of the word I wiU only say this : that the question stands now very much as it did in. the time of Cicero and Lucretius, who took conflicting views of it. Professor Conway, whose authority is great, teUs me that apart from the evidence of usage and the feeling of the Romans themselves, there is nothing to decide whether it is to be connected with ligare, to bind, as Lucretius thought, or with legere, to string together, arrange, as Cicero believed. His feeling is in favour of Cicero's view, as less prejudiced than that of Lucretius ; so is mine. But our feelings are not of much account in such questions, and I may pass on at once to the history of the word. Li Latin Uterature down to Christian times, religio is used in a great variety of senses, and often in most curious and unexpected ones ; but all these uses can, I think, be reduced to two main types of meaning, one of which is probably the older, the other derivative. The one reflects the natural feeling of the Latin when face to face with the supernormal or supernatural, before the State with its priesthoods and religious law had intervened to quiet that feehng. The other expresses the attitude of the citizen of a State towards the super- natural, now realizable without fear or doubt in the shape of the recognized deities of his State. I must explain these two uses to begin with. I. Rehgio is the feehng of awe, anxiety, doubt, or fear, which is aroused in the mind by something that cannot be explained by a man's experience or by the natural course of cause and effect, and which is therefore referred to the supernatural. This I take to be the original meaning of the word, for the following reasons : — 1. Rehgio is not a word which has grown out of any State usage, or been rendered technical by priestly law or ritual. It has no part 170 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans in the ius divinum, like the word sacrum : we search for it in vain m the indices to the Corpiis Inscriptionum, where it would inevitably be found if it were used in a technical or legal sense. In its adjectival form, as applied to times and places, we may also see the results of this non-technical meaning. Dies rdigiosi, loca rdigiosa, are m)t days and places which are proclaimed as such by the official administrators of the itis divinum : they are rather such days and places as man's own feeling, independently of the State and its officials, has made the object of religio. ' Beligiosum stands in contrast with sacrum as indicating something about which there is awe, fear, scruple, and which has not been definitely brought within the province of State law, nor handed over to a deity by rituaUstic formulae.' ^ If this be so, then we may safely refer the origin of the word to a period when powerful State priesthoods had not as yet, by ritual and routine, soothed down the natural awe which in less perfect social forms man feels when obstructed, astonished, embarrassed, by that which he cannot explain or overcome. 2. That this is the true and the oldest meaning of the word seems also proved by the fact that it survived in this sense throughout Latin literature, and was indeed so used by the ordinary Eoman layman. It is familiar to us in a thousand passages. Religio may stand for a doubt or scruple of any kind, or for anything uncanny which creates such doubt or scruple. To illustrate this I may select a single passage from Caesar, as a writer who would be sure to use a word in a sense obvious to every one. In describing the alarm of the soldiers of Q. Cicero when besieged at Aduatuca, he says : — ' Alius castra iam capta pronuntiat, alius deleto exercitu atque imperatore victores barbaros venisse contendit ; plerique novas sibi ex loco rehgiones fingunt, Cottaeque et Titurii calamitatem, qui in eodem occiderint castello, ante oculos ponunt.' ^ Here Caesar might almost as well have simply written metus instead of rdigiones ; but he wishes to express not only natural fear and alarm as to what may happen, but that fear accentuated by the sense of something wrong or uncanny, for which the soldiers or their leaders may be responsible — ^in this case the pitching of a camp in a place which they believed to have been the scene of a former disaster. Let us note that these soldiers were out of reach of the protecting arm of their own ius divinum : they were on foreign soil, ignorant of what supernatural powers might be present there. Their commander- in-chief, it is true, was the chief administrator of that ius. Caesar was pontifex maximus : but Caesar was not there, and if he had been, his presence would in those days and in such a place have made little ' See a paper by the writer in the Hibhert Journal for 1907, p. 847. ' B. O. 6. 36. 9. T'he Latin Meaning of Religio : Warde Fowler 171 difference. They are in the same position towards the supernatural as their ancestors had been before the State arose, and in describing their alarm Caesar uses the word religio in the same sense in which it had come into use in those primitive ages. Livy, writing of a pestilence and its moral effects, says that ' non corpora modo affecta tabo, sed animos quoque multiplex reUgio, et pleraque externa invasit ' : ^ where by religio he means the feeling of anxiety which took practical shape in the performance of various rites, foreign for the most part. Such examples could be multiplied a hundredfold : and the word came at last to be used for anything that produces a feeUng of wonder or even of curiosity, seeing that we do not understand it. Thus PUny says that there is a reUgio in men's knees, because we kneel on them to supplicate, and clasp the knees of those from whom we ask mercy ; * there is something uncanny about that part of the body — something we cannot explain. In the same way he says that no animal is ' rehgionis capacius ' than the mole, because its heart and its teeth are supposed to have some mysterious medicinal powers.' In this way the adjective religiosus came to be applied to human beings in a sense not far removed from that of superatitiosvs, which is, so far as I know, always used of persons addicted to rites or fancies outside the pale of the Roman State-rehgion. This sense seems to be an early one : it occurs in the fragment of an ' antiquum carmen ' quoted by Aulus GieUius : * ' Rehgentem (attentive) esse oportet, religiosus (over-anxious) ne seis.' Lucretius's use of the substantive may also be mentioned in this context : for him all that we caU religion was superstitious and degrading, and could therefore be properly called by that word which the Romans invariably used to express their doubts, fears, and scruples. Lastly, before I go on to the second chief meaning of the word, I may mention the significant fact that religio is never personified as a deity, as were Pietas, Sanctitas, and almost all the virtues at one time or another. It is not a virtue : it does not necessarily lead to a definite course of action, and embodies no sense of duty or moral action : it is primarily and essentially a feeling to which human nature is liable under certain circumstances. It is not among those qualities by the help of which, to use the interesting language of Cicero, derived from Posidonius and the East, 'datur homini ascensus in caelum,'^ and which can therefore be made into helpful numina : it is not a quality or virtue, but a feeling. ' 4. 30. ^H.N.ll. 250. ' Ibid. 30. 19. ' 4. 9. 1 ; cf. Baehrens, Fr. Poet. Bom., p. 36. " Leg. ch. 2. 19. 172 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans II. I now come to the second chief sense in which the word is used, and which brings it a step nearer to our own use of it. This sense was mainly due, I think, in Roman literature to Cicero, though it may be far older in common use : and is perhaps the result of the Greek originals, e.g. Posidonius, whom he was following when writing the de Legibus and the de Natura Deorum, &c. ; but this is a point which I must here pass over. From Cicero in any case I can best illustrate this new turn of meaning which the word acquires. When Cicero was a young man, not yet too learned or philosophical, he defined the word clearly according to its common usage, with an addition of some importance. ' ReUgio est quae superioris cuiusdam naturae, quam divinam vocant, curam caerimoniamque affert ; ' ^ i.e. a feeling of awe that inevitably suggests the discovery of the proper rites by which the object of that feeling may be propitiated. But later on in his life, in the second book of the de Legibus, which deals with the State religion, he uses the word with much freedom of the particular cults, or all of them together, which are the result of the f eehng. Thus in 10. 25 ' suos deos aut novos aut aMenigenas coli, confusionem habet rehgionum', i.e. private persons may not introduce new cults ; for there would in that case be a confusion both of religious feeling and duty. In 10. 23 he calls his own imaginary ius divinum a constitutio religionum, a system of religious duties. Thus the word is passing into the sense of the forms of cult, as ordered and organized by the State, the feeHng, the rehgio proper, being only aroused when scruple is felt as to the accurate performance of these rites. In 7. 15 we read ' qua mente, qua pietate colat rehgiones ', where it answers almost exactly to religious duties. In 16. 40 he tells how the Athenians consulted the Delphic oracle 'quas potissimum religiones colerent', and the answer was, ' eas quae essent in more maiorum.' Again in 11. 27 we find ' religio Larium ', the cult of the Lares. But the feeling which prompts the cult, and which is aroused afresh if it be neglected, is seldom entirely absent. The phrase religio sepulcrorum (22. 55) suggests quite as much the feeling as the ritual : and a little further down we are told that the pontifical law of burials ' magnam rehgionem caerimoniamque declarat ' — the word caerimonia being necessary to express the ritual following on the feeling. And lastly this word may be used to gather up and express in totality a number of acts of cult, because the same feehng is at the root of them aU. Thus in 19. 47 the question is raised whether a pontifex should know the civil law. The answer is, 'quod cum rehgione coniunctum est : de sacris, de votis, deferiis, de sepulcris,' the pontifex has to do with these matters, which can all be expressed together by the word religio. ' De Invent. 2. 161. 9. The Latin Meaning of Religio : Warde Fowler 173 These examples seem to show how the word might pass into the sense in which we still use it ; the feeling which prompts us to worship, and also the forms under which we perform that worship. The feeling is common to human nature, civilized or not : that is the original mean- ing of the word : the worship, organized by a priesthood, is the work of the State — ^that is the second, or as we may call it, the Ciceronic meaning. And in the same age it is also so used by Lucretius, who includes under it all that was for him the world's evil and foUy, i. e. both the feeling and the ctilt — delusion, myth, superstition, as well as the organized but futile worship of the family and the State. ' Tan- tum religio potuit suadere malorum.' ^ In an age of cosmopolitanism, when the old local character of the cults was disappearing, and in an age of philosophic-religious syncretism when men like Posidonius, Cicero, Varro, and others were thinking and writing about the nature of the gods and kindred questions, a word was wanted to gather up and express all this religious side of human life and experience : it must be a word without a definite technical meaning, and such a word was religio. To take a single example, besides those already quoted from Cicero, there is the famous aphorism which St. Augustine ^ ascribes to Varro : ' expedit faUi in religione civitates.' Thus while religio continues to express the feeling only, or the cult only, if called on to do so by Latin writers, it gains in the Ciceronian age a more comprehensive connotation, as the result of the contemplation of religion by philosophy as a thing apart from itself ; and this, as we shall see directly, enabled the early Christian writers, who knew their Cicero well, and modelled their prose on his, to use it in much the same sense as that in which we use it to-day. Time fails to-day to trace the word in the pre-Christian literature of the early Empire, and to see how it is affected by the finer quasi- rehgious Stoicism, or again by the Caesar-worship of the day, — the nearest approach in antiquity, as it has been called, to a cosmopolitan religion. So far as I can see, it did not take from either of these sources any new turn or type of meaning. Seneca, for example, has but little use for it ; though he was, as Professor DiU has said of him, one of the few heathen moralists who warm moral feeling with the emotion of modem religion, he had Httle real interest either in the feeling or the cult. If he made himself a religion out of his Stoic principles, it was not one that he could have described by the word religio. For him, though tinged by emotion, it was still sapientia : he could hardly have assented to the later teaching of Lactantius^ that sapientia and religio are inseparably connected. Nor did the worship of the Caesars bring any new turn of mean- * Lucr. 1, 101. ' Civ. Dei 4. 27. ' De Vera Sap. 4. 3. 174 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans ing : here it could express the cult (' caelestes religiones ' ^), but the feeling at the root of a genuine religious cult was not there to be expressed. This is perhaps significant both of the true meaning of the word, and also of the weak point in Caesar-worship : but I must not now dwell upon it. I will only mention one passage in which Pliny the Younger uses it of the cult of Trajan, because the kind of feeling which it there represents — ^loyalty and devotion to an individual — ^is in some sense a new one, and may be a foreshadowing of the Christian use. Phny writes to Trajan from Bithynia reporting celebrations on the Emperor's birthday : ' Diem . . . debita religione celebravimus, commendantes dis imperii tui auctoribus et vota pubUca et gaudia.' ^ Here it means the feeHng of devotion prompting the vota et gaudia, as well as those acts themselves. There is nothing in it of the old fear, scruple, anxiety : it is the devotion and gratitude which expresses itseK in rehgious festivities. But there was to be a real change in the meaning of the word, the last but one in its history. The second century a. d. was that in which the competition was keenest between various religious creeds and forms, each with its own vitaUty, and each clearly marked off from the others. It is no longer a question of religion as a whole contemplated by a critical or a sympathetic philosophy : the question is, which creed and form is to be the true and the victorious religion. Our wonderful word again adapts itself to the situation. Each separate religious system can now be called a rehgio.^ The old polytheistic system can now be called religio Deorum by the Christian, while his own creed is religio Dei. In the Octavius of Minucius Felix, written in the first half of the second century A. d., the word is already used in this sense. His nostra religio, vera religio, distinguished from aU other religiones, is the whole Christian faith and Christian practice as it stood then ; the depth of feeUng and the acts which give it out- ward form. The one true religion can be expressed by this word, though it is quite different from anjrthing the word has as yet been called on to mean. In Lactantius, Amobius, Tertullian, this new sense of the word is to be found on almost every page : but a single noble passage of Lactantius must suffice to illustrate it. ' The heathen sacrifice,' he says, ' and leave aU their religio in the temple ' : thus it is that such religiones cannot make men good, or firm in their faith. ' Nostra religio eo firma est et soUda et immutabilis, quia mentem ipsam pro sacrificio habet, quia tota in animo colentis est.' * Religio here is not awe only or cult only, or scruple about details of cult, but a mental devotion capable of building up character. ' The ' Tac. Ann. 1. 14. ' Ep. 10. 102. ' 'e coho'rte religionis unus,' Apul. 11. 14, oflsis. ^ De lustitia 5. 19. 9. The Latin Meaning of Religio : Warde Fovcler 175 kingdom of God is within you.' It is worth noting that it can now be explained by the word pietas, which was not possible in the old days, because pietas was a virtue and religio was not a virtue but a feeling. Lactantius says that philosophy, ' quae veram reHgionem, id est summam pietatem, non habet, non est vera sapientia.' ^ Thus the word has meant successively (1) the natural fear and awe which semi-civilized man feels in the presence of what he cannot explain; (2) the cult by which he strives to propitiate the unseen Powers, together with the scruple he feels if the propitiation is in the least degree imperfect ; (3) the whole sphere of worship, together with all belief in the supernatural, as viewed from the standpoint of the philosopher ; (4) the competing divisions of that sphere of worship and belief, each being now a religio, and the Christian faith being for the Christian the vera religio. There is one later stage in the history of the word, which I can only mention here. It suffered a degradation when it was made to mean the monastic life : the life of men who with- drew themselves from a world in which true religion was not. But even in this degraded form it reveals once more its wonderful capacity to express the varying attitude of humanity towards the supernatural. Outside the monasteries — the homes of the religiosi — were a thousand fears, fancies, superstitions, which the old Roman might have summed up by his word rehgio, the anxious fear of the super- natural : inside them, for many ages at least, was still something of the vera religio of the early Fathers, the devotion and the ritual combined, the pure hfe and training, religio Dei. 10 SOME POINTS IN THE CULT OF THE HEAVENLY TWINS By J. RENDEL HARRIS. (Abstract) The object of this paper is to elucidate some points in the evolu- tion of the Cult of the Heavenly Tmns, from a taboo of extraordinary force amongst primaeval savages down to the devotions of sailors in the Mediterranean and elsewhere. As this taboo had originally nothing to do with the sea, it is clear (as might also be deduced from Greek literature and mythology) that the belief in the Twins as patrons ' De Vera Sap. 4. 3. 176 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans of sailors is late ; and it may therefore be inferred that they were in charge of travellers on land before they protected seafaring men, and that they were River Saints before they became Sea Saints. There is reason to suppose that they acted as River Saints at Rome under the names of Romulus and Remus, before the arrival of Castor and Pollux, and that like the latter they also went to sea and exercised their virtue in the Mediterranean and elsewhere. The earliest form of Twin Cult makes them chQdren of the sky, or of the thunder or the lightning. Under these latter titles they are found in Palestine. Near Jaffa there is a town which from the earliest times has been named after the Sons of Lightnmg ; probably, there- fore, it was a Dioscuric shrine for sailors entering or leaving the dangerous port of Jaffa. A parallel may be made with Barqa in Cyrene, a known centre of Dioscurism, in the neighbourhood of the great Syrtis. The Twins also presided over signalling stations, light- houses, dangerous straits and harbours, sandbanks, &c. ; and there is evidence to show that they survived in Kent, and protected sailors from the Goodwin Sands. From an examination of Kentish wills for two centuries preceding the Reformation, it appears that the chief patron saints of sailors were Nicholas of Myra (who is Poseidon) and Erasmus (who is commonly identified either with St. Helena, i.e. with the sister of the Dioscuri, or with an imagined St. Eremo), to whom must be added the pairs SS. Cosmas and Damian, and SS. Crispin and Crispian, both of which pairs are disguised Dioscuri. As to the real meaning of St. Erasmo, it may be shown that he is a modification of St. Remo, i.e. of the Roman Twin. It is an interesting fact that the town of San Remo on the Riviera has San Romolo in the neighbourhood, and was originally named Matuta, after the mysterious mother of the Tiber. To return to the subject of land saints who replace the Twins, some further light may be thrown on the case of Polyeuctes. His connexion with Melitene arose from his belonging to the Fulminate Legion, over which there has been so much controversy. It seems probable that this Legion was under the patronage of the Dioscuri ; a circumstance which would explain the traditions about their raising storms and bringing rain. In conclusion it may be suggested that the episcopal benediction with two fingers was originally a prayer that those blessed might have twin children. 11 THE BAETUL IN DAMASCIUS By F. C. CONYBEARE Of the life of Isidorus by Damascius we have only some thirty foUo pages of extracts in the Bibliotheca of Photius, but what there is makes us long for more. It was clearly a mine of folk-lore, of stirring and often contemporary tales, of demonology strangely mixed with philosophic reflections. I would direct attention to a passage which contains a fuller descrip- tion than we have anywhere else in Greek Uterature of a Baitulion or BaitvJos. In this word has been rightly recognized a graecized form of the Semitic Bethel or House of God. In the neighbourhood of HeUupohs in Syria, says Damascius, Isidore saw many such Baetuls, and, according to Photius, he had aU sorts of marvels to relate of them. These tales, however, Photius esteemed worthy only of an impious tongue ; and he condescends to copy out for his readers but a single one of them. It begins abruptly thus ^ : — ' I saw, says Isidore, the BaitvJos moving through the air, but sometimes concealed in its vestments, and again at times carried along in the hands of its worshipper and ministrant. And the minis- trant's name was Eusebius, who said that he was once overcome suddenly by an imexpected impulse to wander away from the city of Emesa at midnight nearly as far as the hiU on which the ancient and famous temple of Athena is built. He quickly reached the foot of the lull, and there halted being wearied with walking. Suddenly he saw a globe of fire leap down from above, and a great Hon standing beside the globe. The Hon, indeed, immediately vanished, but he himseK ran up to the globe when the fire was just being extinguished, and found it to be the Baitulos. And he took it up and asked to which of the gods it belonged ; and the Baitulos answered to Gennaeos (i. e. the Noble one). Now the natives of HeUupohs worship Gennaeus, and have set up a hon-shaped image of him in the temple of Zeus. The same night, he says, I returned homewards not less than 210 stadia. But Eusebius was not master of the movements of the Baitulos, as other (priests) of theirs. But whQe he offered petitions and prayers, it answered in oracular responses. ' After the above foohsh remarks and many more such, this writer who is on a level with his baitulia, describes the stone and its appearance. It was, he says, a full orb, whitish in colour, in diameter a palm's length, though it was sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller, and occa- sionally purple of aspect. And he pointed out to us letters written on the stone, painted on in the pigment known as Tingibarine (vermiUon). And one knocked on a wall, whereupon it gave the inquirer the * Codex No. 242, p. 1062, in ed. of 1633, p. 348 in ed. of 1824. C.R. II N 178 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans response he wanted, and uttered a sound of low hissing, which Eusebius interpreted. This empty-headed fellow, then, vamps up these miracles and adds : "I esteemed the Baitulos an object more divine than not. But Isidore insisted that it was rather a matter of demons. For, he said, there is a demon who moves it, though not one of the harmful or over-material sort, yet not one of those that have won their way up to the immaterial kind nor one of the whoUy pure sort. And one Baitulos is dedicated to one god, another to another ; as he blas- phemously says, to the god Kronos, or Zeus, or Helios, or to theothers." ' We gather then that this sacred stone had originally fallen from heaven and was probably a meteorite. It had a priest all to itself, to wit Eusebius ; and it was dressed up in vestments. It was usually carried in the hands of its ministrant, although it could levitate itself. It gave oracles to its priest who regularly prayed to it. The demon that lived in it was one of the benevolent sort, and not of the heavy material kind that roll along the ground, as Origen says, instead of lightly soaring up to heaven. The stones within which the god had thus taken up his dwelling, were termed by Philo of Byblus (cited in Eusebius of Caesarea, about the year 300) animated stones, Xifioi l/xi/ruxot. The same Philo says that the god Uranus, the son of Ehoum ' the most High ' and a female named Beruth, had invented them. I Clement of Alexandria, c. 170, ridicules the pagans because they worshipped logs and the stones called smooth (Xmapovs). Doubtless the constant kissing and caressing and anointing with oil to which these stones were subjected would often make them smooth and bright. The worship of ancient stones was spread all over the ancient worlds and was not confined to the Semitic portion ; although we owe to the Jews the picturesque name Bethel or House of God, and Ebenezer or stone of help. Let us examine some of the references made to them. In Lucian's account of Alexander, the great charlatan of Abono- teichos, we have a brief but eloquent character sketch of one of his victims, by name RutiHanus. This gentleman was in other respects, says Lucian, honourable and good, and he had served his country with distinction in many offices. Yet as regards the gods he was altogether an invalid, or as we should say a crank, and 'gone' upon religion. No tale about the gods was too absurd for his credence, and he could not pass a stone dripping with oil or crowned with a wreath without at once going down on his knees to it and worshipping it. He would stand before it any length of time, praying to it and asking of it blessings. Lucian wrote this about 182, and 125 years later we get in Arnobius's work against the Gentiles or Pagans ^ another capital account of the psychology of the educated pagan's worship of * Bk. 1, p. 11 in ed. of 1666. 11. Saetul in Damasdus : Conybeare 179 holy stones. He is enumerating the fetishes which, before he embraced the true religion, he had adored. ' I used to venerate, what blindness ! images just taken out of the furnaces, gods fashioned on anvils with hammers, elephants' bones, fillets of paper painted with pictures and hung up on aged trees ; and if I saw a well-lubricated stone, begrimed with olive oil, I would address it with flattering words, as if there were in it a real presence {uis praesens), and would ask for blessings of a stock that had no sentience. Moreover, I really inflicted the worst insults on the very gods of whose real existence I had persuaded myself, inasmuch as I beUeved them to inhabit logs, stones, and bones and other such material objects.' These words of Arnobius are of quite pecuhar interest. The votary begins by addressing his fetish with flattering words. There was to be observed, no doubt, what in diplomatic language we term a protocol in addressing a stock or stone which was overflowing with supernatural power and could bring you good or bad luck. You apologized for disturbing it, and promised to lavish upon it your oil and wine and even the blood of victims. You fondled and caressed it, as an Arunta does his chwinga or wooden soul-token. And if Amobius coidd have digested it, he would, no doubt, have broken off a fragment of his petrine divinity and have swallowed it ; for that is the most effective way, after all, of getting into close contact and communion with the spirit which animated it. This cult of rude stones depicted by Amobius was no new development in the religion of the Greeks and Romans ; for nearly six hundred years before Amobius, Aristotle's pupil Theophrastus in portraying the character of the superstitious man notes that when he passes a ' Smooth Stone ' in one of his walks, he takes his flask and pours some oil over it, prostrates himself and says his prayers to it. From such stray notices we learn that in the very age when Greek sculpture was in its bloom, and figures of the gods worked by Pheidias and other great artists adorned the public places, the ultra-pious still went about anointing and praying to smooth stones. So in our modem religions the adoration of the aniconic objects survives along- side of the worship of images of the saints. At Pessinus the ancients worshipped a flint as the mother of the gods, which Arnobius says was originally brought from Phrygia, and then presented by King Attalus to the RepubHc of Rome. It was popularly beheved that the defeat of Hannibal was part of the good luck brought by this stone. * But what man,' writes Amobius, ' will beUeve that a stone taken from the earth, moved by no sentience, of sooty colour and black body was the mother of the gods ? or who, again, would listen to the tale (for it is the alternative) that the power of any deity dwelt in a bit of flint, within its mass and hidden in its veins ? ' N 2 180 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans The stone in question, he declares, was of no size, and could be carried in a man's hand without effort, was black and dusky in colour and, instead of being smooth, had little corners or angles projecting from it. It was, we gather, let into an image by way of a face, but being rough and unhewn, it gave the figure, he says, in which it was inserted a countenance the reverse of lifelike. Both Livy (xxvii) and Cicero allude to this story, which in all essential respects resembles the story of many a famous rehc in the Middle Ages. It would seem as if the races that inhabit the earth were once united in a really universal or catholic religion, and that religion the cult of sacred stones or Bethels. In the Old Testament, that wonderful repertory of the myths, religion and folk-lore of the Semites, we have an earlier account of them than any Indo-European documents afford, but in full agreement with the latter. Take, for example, the tale of Jacob. The patriarch ' took one of the stones of the place and put it under his head '. Was not this a primitive form of incubation? for he had his picturesque dream of ladder and angels and of the God of Abraham, and when he ' awaked out of sleep, he said. Surely the Lord is in this place '. And he took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil on the top of it, and called it Bethel, or House of God. At a later stage of their religious development the Jews grew ashamed of the cult of stocks and stones, and in the deutero- Isaiah we meet with solemn denunciation of those who poured out drink offerings and offered oblations to the smooth stones in the valleys. Yet at an earlier epoch such practices were an essential part of the worship of Jahveh. The Baetul of Eusebius was dressed up. Similarly the sacred stone at Delphi was in times of festival dressed in holiday robes after being anointed. Mr. Erazer in his commentary on Pausanias^ suggests that it was so wrapped up in order to keep it warm, as was a smooth stone in Samoa which was the home of a god named Turia. This was covered with branches, which were renewed when special adoration was given to it. But I do not think we can argue from Samoa to Delphi, and the garments may have had a decorative purpose. The image of the mother of the gods which Elagabalus fetched from Carthage and honoured with a procession through the streets of Rome was probably a rude stone. It was magnificently arrayed in silk vestments for the occasion. Pausanias relates ^ that all the Greeks of old worshipped unhewn stones, instead of images, and gives many examples of its survival. Pliny the Elder notes the worship in Syria of Baetuls, which were round black stones of magic power .^ They were the same as Sotacus, a very old writer about stones and ores, had described. He distin- ' V. 355. ^ vii. 22. = Nat. Hist, xxxvii. 135. 11, Baetul in Damascius: Conyheare 181 guished black kerauniai or Thunder Stones from red ones. The latter were shaped like axes (securibus). The former were round and of service for besieging and taking cities and fleets, and were called Baetuh. The question arises : Why were unhewn stones especially sacred ? More than half the holy stones mentioned about Greece by Pausanias are rough unworked stones, and he specially remarks that it was these that all the Greeks once adored before they took to images. The sacredness of an aerolite explains itself. It fell from heaven and brought its credentials with it. It obviously needed no trimming; but why should other stones not be trimmed ? In India to-day many Hindus prefer a trimmed stone or even a brick as the object of their devotions. They wiU not take a rough stone that bears no impress of human art. I have often seen a Hindu pick up an old brickbat, set it up on end, draw a circle around it, and proceed to say his prayers to it. Probably several motives operated. We may suppose firstly, that the older the stone, the less likely it was to be worked with tools. And, secondly, the tool did not introduce into it the spirit, numen, orenda, or mana, but might on the contrary disturb the same and occasion it to take flight. The god probably dwelt in some stone or rock which attracted notice by its colour, size, or position ; for example, in an erratic block standing solitary on rising ground or in a flat alluvial tract, or in a rock worn smooth and round in a torrent bed, or in a stone with a hole in it ready to receive Ubations of oil and blood. The great stones of Stonehenge were, I believe, erratic blocks gathered together from the surrounding plain. In the history of Jacob we have several other examples of stones being set up as pillars, but always without mention of their being wrought. His covenant with Laban^ was cemented by a stone being thus set up, and on this occasion his brethren also had to gather stones and make a heap, called the Heap of Witness. Such monuments were evidently intended to house the God who was to watch over the agreement and hold each party to the bargain. So Joshua,^ anxious to hold the people to the observance of the Book of the Law, took a great stone and set it up under the oak — the sacred tree — tha^t was in the holy place. This stone was to be witness, in case the people denied their God. It was to play quite a personal and active role, for says the text: 'it has heard all the words of the Lord which He spake imto us.' In another passage^ it is expressly laid down that the altar of Jahveli is not to be bmlt of hewn stones : ' for,' so Jahveh is represented as saying, ' if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it.' Clearly the stone had an antecedent taboo value of its own as part of a site ' Gen. xxxi. 45. " Joshua xxiv. 26. ' Exod. xx. 25. 182 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans upon which the god had revealed himself. As often as not a stone was anointed not in order to hallow it, but because it was already holy. In a certain place there was ' plenty devil ', as the Melanesian savage says ; or as Jacob said : ' How dreadful is this place. Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not.' Forthwith a stone is set up for the God to abide in. I know of no Christian Church except the Armenian in which the prohibition of hewn stones is continued. In Armenia, when a site has been chosen, probably because it was traditionally holy beforehand, twelve stones of due size are brought unwrought and unpolished. Beside these a single rock is laid for the altar or fundament of the church, where the future Jienm will be, and four other unwrought stones at the four comers around it. On these stones the bishop then makes the sign of a cross with holy oil, and repeats over each the formula : ' May this stone be blessed, be anointed, and hallowed by (or in) the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.' I do not think that this rite was merely modelled on the Scriptural passages, where Moses builded an altar under the Mount with twelve pillars round it for the twelve tribes,^ or where Joshua set up twelve stones in Gilgal taken out of the Jordan.^ Apart from the fact that these narratives were aetiological, i.e. subsequent explanations in accordance with the religious customs of the age of ancient stone circles, it is probable that the Armenians in the pre-Christian Age had such a rite of founding a temple or shrine, and that what we find in their oldest service books is an attempt to christianize the old rite. If so, we witness a curious and interesting development, namely, the conversion into a Christian Church of the older circle of unwrought sacred stones grouped around a primitive altar. We must not forget that in that country bulls, rams, sheep, and even fowls, are still taken to the church to be sacrificed by the priest and deacon with due rehgious rites. In the East the cult of stones, pillars, and trees stO flourishes. On Mount Sion at Jerusalem there is a church which Salahadin after the conquest of Jerusalem gave to the Armenians. It is dedicated to St, James, and the Armenians have built a convent around it. The western wall of this church is carried over a large boulder stone, or rather, I should say, is interrupted by an opening to accommodate its presence. This proves that the stone was in its present position before the church was built. Where it projects through the church waU it is smooth and pohshed with the kisses which Armenian, Syrian, and Greek pilgrims have from time immemorial lavished upon it. Mr. Arthur Evans contributed a remarkable paper six years ago to the Hellenic Journal on the ' Survival in Turkish dominions of Tree and ' Exod. xxiv. 4. » Joshua iv. 20. 11. Baetul in Damasdus: Conyheare 183 Pillar worship '. More recently there appeared in the Expositor ^ a paper by the late Samuel Ives Curtiss, entitled ' Survivals of Ancient Semitic Religion in Syrian Centres of Moslem and Christian Influence '. In our own island we can trace long after the Reformation a cult of stones identical with the ancient cults I have enumerated. As late as the end of the seventeenth century in Orkney the peasants kept round stones with holes in them, and whenever they brewed beer they poured an airapxij or firstfruits of the new beer into the hole for the Brownie. The kirk opposed the usage ; but the women believed that, if they did not do it, the Brownie spoiled the beer. They admitted, however, to an Edinburgh tourist who relates the fact, that although the Brownie spoiled the penny brew, he seldom interfered with the more carefully prepared threepenny brew. 12 In Le cvite du soleil et les sacrifices humains chez Us Qrecs the Abb± FouBEiBEE maintained that the cult of the sun had been practised in Greece from an early period, especially in Crete, Laconia, and Arcadia, and was accompanied with human sacrifices. This cult and these sacrifices had been brought over into Greece from Palestine by the emigrant tribe of Dan, who had been compelled to flee from their country at the time when the prophets of Baal had been massacred by Elijah. The worship of the Sun-God Baal had been combined with that of the golden calf of Jeroboam since the reign of Ahab and Jezebel. Traces of this cult-migration may be found in Greek place- names and personal names derived from the root of ' Dan ', from the name of the bill of Dan and from the name ' EUas '. The persistence of the cult and the ritual of the emigrant Danites was due to the efforts of the magicians who followed them in their migrations, as is shown by the legends of Kirke and Medea. » 1903, p. 415. 184 VI. Religiom of the Greeks and Romans 13 THE CRETAN AXE-CULT OUTSIDE CRETE By a. B. cook MoEE than half a century has elapsed since that admirable scholar Longperier first drew attention to the cult of the axe. He was impressed by the fact, now commonly admitted ^ though still imperfectly under- stood, that the character used by the ancient Egyptians to denote a god was shaped like an axe (Fig. 1).^ 1 1 ,„1 1i 111 llli Pig. 1. Why the Egyptians used an axe (if it be an axe) as the determinative of a god, is a question that might be answered in more ways than one. Were we to embark on the discussion of it a propos of our first illustra- tion, we should probably get no further. I must, moreover, content myself with a mere mention of a deeply interesting paper by Professor Newberry just published in the Liverpool Annals of Archaeology and Anthropology.^ It is here shown that twice in the fifth d37iiasty a ' priest of the Double- Axe ' is recorded, while once in the twenty-sixth dynasty there is an allusion to an Amasis ' priest of HA of the Double Axe '. Professor Newberry justly compares the Minoan cult, of which I shall have more to say. Longperier also published an Assjrrian cylinder in white agate, which had been brought from Constantinople by a certain M. Cayol (Fig. 2).* This shows a priestly personage presenting a fish to a deity who is symbolized by an axe and a knobbed sceptre erected on a high-backed throne. Behind the throne is an ibex, above which we see the sun, the moon, and seven stars. If it be asked. Who is the deity thus symbohzed by axe and sceptre ? — the most probable answer appears ' See, however, F. L. Griffith, Hieroglyphs, p. 46, Kgs. 26, 114. ' E. A. Wallis Budge, The Gods of the Egyptians, i. 63. " P. E. Newberry, ' Two Cults of the Old Kingdom,' in Annals of Archaeology and Anthropology, 1908, i. 24 sqq. ' G. Schlumberger, (Euvres de A. de Longperier, i. 170. C, R. II, p, 1^4] 13. Ct-etan Axe-cult outside Crete: A. B. Cook 185 to be, Marduk, the head of the Babylonian pantheon. Marduk was identified with the planet Jupiter, and the fifth tablet of the creation epic represents him, under the name of Nibir, as exercising a control over aU the stars and especially as ordering the constellations.^ True, the symbol of Marduk is a spear more often than an axe. But a cyhnder of rock-crystal in the Museum at Florence portrays him with both (Kg. 3).2 Another deity who might claim to be represented by an axe is Adad or Ramman — the Rimmon of the Old Testament — who appears on a relief from Malatiyeh : * bovine horns project from his head, and in his hands are an axe and a conventional thunderbolt. The adora- tion of an axe set up as the symbol of a god — ^whether that god was Marduk or Ramman — blasted on into the Persian period, to judge from such seal-stones as the following (Fig. 4).* Pliny states that the Magi practised aa;»mo»iaw< Eutt^dcnnOd r Bukrntides. Apollodotos ii. 2o6 B.c - c It^-I^o o.c C loo B.C. p < p > < Apollodotos ii. C.loO B.C.. ZoVlofi. c.&o ? B.C. Ii I ppoat rat OS ^ C.TO B.C., UABARYM, Tig. 17. presence in the sacred tree. Where, as was the case with the sarco- phagus from Hagia Triada, we see the axe embedded in the tree-trunk, there we must recognize the union of the sky-father with the earth- mother— a union essential to the fertility of crops and beasts and men. The axe embedded in a tree is the prototype of the axe embedded in a wooden column or a stalactite pillar. Ultimately a double-axe of the usual type is found serving as a symbol of the united deities, the axe- head beiag the male, the axe-handle the female, element in their union. This hypothesis implies that axe-head and axe-handle may be regarded as two distiact entities. But students of primitive life (Dr. Frazer will control my assertion) will not be slow to admit that possibiUty. The megaUthic art of Gaul sometimes, as you, see, shows 194 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans the axe complete. Sometimes it represents the axe-blades separately (Kg. 19).^ Sometimes, again, we have, not blades unhafted, but hafts unbladed (Fig. 20).^ The union of blade -with haft might well be taken to symbolize the physical union of male with female. On this showing the mascuHne and feminine heads on the obverse of the Tenedian coins were indeed the ' anthropomorphic equivalent ' of the hafted blade on their reverse. Further, from Tenedos it is but a step to Samothrace, where a mysterious triad of deities was worshipped under the names of 'Afiepos, 'A^to/cepo-a, and 'AfioKcpo-os. The Greek gram- marians assert that these were forms of Demeter, Persephone, and Hades.^ May we not venture to suppose that 'A|ioKtpcros, ' He who cleaves with the axe,' and 'AiioKipaa, ' She who is cleft with the axe,' are early titles for the Bridegroom and the Bride ? At least the deriva- tion from a^ivij ' an axe ' and Kepo-ai ' to cleave ' seems clear enough. Hesychius tells us that iccpo-ai means both ' to cleave ' and ' to wed '.* I may add that an amulet found at Vindonissa and figured by Orelli ^ represents a T-shaped object — a simple modification of the double- axe — the three divisions of the T bearing respectively the names of 'Aiiepos, 'AiioK€pa-a, and 'A^ioxepcros, reduced in each case to the significant abbreviation AX I. The hypothesis that I have sketched may indeed help to clear up various outstanding problems. If, for example, in Minoan times the hafted axe thus denoted the union of male with female, it is possible that there was some such notion underlying the marriage-test proposed by Penelope to the Suitors. The Odyssey certainly gives no hint that the contest was anything more than an athletic competition. Never- theless, athletic competitions in Greece were often serious enough in their origin ; and it may be that in this feature of the story, as in some others (for instance, the tree-bed of Odysseus), the poet is modernizing materials of extremely ancient date. Conceive for a moment that this was so. We have the axe-blades (as at Hagia Triada and probably at Dodona too) fixed into the top of their upright shafts. Have we also (as at Hagia Triada and Dodona) a bird or a woman simulating a bird? I hesitate to suggest it— but what of Penelope herself ? Urjvikoxf, means a ' wild goose ', and wild geese are said to have rescued her from the sea. But nomen omen. I will not at this time of day start on a wild-goose chase. 1 J. D6ohelette, Manud d'archeologie prehistorique, i. 605, Fig. 241, from the allie couverte of Gavr'inia (Morbihan). ' Id., ib., p. 609, Fig. 244, 1 dohnen of the Table des Marchanda at Locmariaquer (Morbihan). ' Mnaseas and Dionysodoros ap. sohol. Ap. Rhod. 1. 917. " Hesyoh, (cc'po-ai- K6y\rai, n/iuv, Ketpm, ynpFjirai and Ktparjs' ydpos. ■* Orelli-Henzen, 440, Roscher, Lex. Myth. i. 742. C. B. 11, p. 194] 14 NEW LIGHTS ON THE CULT AND SANCTUARIES OF MINOAN CRETE By ARTHUR J. EVANS. (Abstract) The views as to the character of the early Cretan and Mycenaean religion put forward in 1900 by the author, in his work on Tree and Pillar Cult, have been remarkably corroborated by the course of more recent discoveries. The main objects of Cult more and more declare themselves as aniconic — sometimes natural objects, as sacred stones, peaks, and trees ; or sometimes artificial, as pillars, cones, and obelisks, the sacred Double Axe and apparently even the Cross. But side by side with these we see the actual representations of divinities, either in the engravings of signets and painted designs, or in actual images of clay, faience, or metal, which found their place beside the aniconic objects of Cult in the various shrines. In its leading features, how- ever, the Cult may be described as ' baetylic '. The main divinity is clearly a Nature Goddess— to whom the male divinity is quite secondary — the true relationship being thus pre- served in the Cretan legends of Rhea and Zeus. Among the ' baetyUc ' or fetish objects of the Cult the principal in addition to sacred trees and pillars was the Double Axe. An actual scene of worship of a pair of double axes, rising as usual from stepped bases, is now presented to us in the wonderful painted sarcophagus discovered by the ItaUan Mission at Hagia Triada. There are seen two double axes — significant of a dual Cult — ^between which a priestess pours a hbation, while behind stands another female votary and a youthful priest playing a seven-stringed lyre. The result of the offerings and incantations is visible in the birds — perhaps the sacred black woodpeckers of the Cretan Zeus — settled on the apex of the double axes and indicating the descent into these baetylic objects of the spirits of the divinities. They were charged, as it were, with the godhead by means of the appropriate ritual. The mass of new material is such that only a summary account of it can be given on the present occasion. A series of actual shrines and their contents have now been discovered ; the most perfectly preserved in the Palace of Knossos, and its dependencies ; but others have been found by Miss Boyd (now Mrs. Hawes) at Gournia, and by the Italian Mission at Hagia Triada. The images and Cult objects o 2 196 VI. Religions of the Greeks and Romans are seen in their places on ledges at the back of small square cells. Among the figures the snake-holding goddess is the most remarkable. In other cases she is associated with a dove— the serpent symbolizing her chthonic connexions, the bird her celestial attributes. In another case rude limestone concretions of quasi-human form were placed m the shrine, instead of hand-made images. Besides the shrines were a series of Pillar Rooms which seem to be the crypts of sanctuaries and evidently had themselves religious associations. They were in two cases associated with the bases for the reception of sacred double axes, and stores of ritual vessels were found m contiguous areas. In the 'Little Palace' excavated this year at Knossos, a Pillar Room of this kind has come to Ught, and its excavation has been heralded by the discovery of vessels, in the form of bulls' heads, apparently intended for hbations. One of these is of black steatite with a crystal eye and cameo sheU inlaying— an extraordinary work of art. Thanks to the kindness of Mr. Seager, the American explorer, it is possible to give a representation of a remarkable gold signet ring from Moklos throwing a wholly new light on the Cult of the great Minoan Goddess. The scene represents her ' Advent ' from over sea in a bark, the prow of which is formed by her sacred lily, while the stern curves up into a dog's head — ^the dog being one of her sacred animals. On the vessel, behind the Goddess, is a tree and its small shrine, and she is shown in the act of saluting as the ship comes into harbour, before the gate of a sanctuary. The marine aspect of the Goddess, of which other indications had already appeared, is thus made clear, and curious parallels are suggested with the Syrian Atargatis, the Derketo of Askalon, and certain representations of the shrine of the Paphian goddess in which a harbour with fish appears immediately before it. On a Greco-Roman gem a boat appears at the temple steps. 14. Cult and Sanctuaries of Minoan Crete: Evans 197 A great variety of indications show that the West Quarter of the Palace at Knossos was for the most part essentially a sanctuary. The Room of the Throne itself, with its repeated pairs of sacred griffins was probably a kind of Chapter-house or Consistory for the Priest-Kings. It has been possible to restore two panels of miniature wall-paintings found in this Palace region, one of which showed — within the Palace walls — a group of sacred trees, and a dance, perhaps of an orgiastic character — the prototype of the ' Choros of Ariadne '. The other panel exhibited a small temple rising above a court of the Palace. The actual ground-plan of a similar building, off the Central Court, has now come to light, and an elevation showing its tripartite division into one central and two lateral columnar cells has been drawn out by Mr. Theodore Fyfe of the Institute of British Architects. For the first time we are, therefore, able to reconstruct a Pillar Shrine like those seen on the gold plates of Mycenae. 15 L'INFLUENCE RELIGIEUSE DE L'ASTROLOGIE DANS LE MONDE ROMAIN Par FRANZ CUMONT. (Resume) L'ASTROLOGIE, longtcmps discreditee et delaissee, commence a s'im- poser de nouveau a I'attention des erudits. A la fin du xix« siecle le developpement de I'histoire a montre son importance aussi bien pour I'etude des sciences que pour ceUe des religions dans I'antiquite. Son action qui devait devenir preponderante dans le paganisme romain, est relativement recente. Les anciens Grecs ne I'ont pas ignoree, comme on I'a cru longtemps, mais ils I'ont condamnee, et la divination siderale n'a jamais ete admise par eux. Mais apres les conquetes d' Alexandre I'heUenisme entra en contact avec I'astrolatrie chaldeenne. Les Babyloniens avaient constitue une theologie d'apparence scientifique fondee sur I'astro- nomie et les mathematiques. Le stoicisme, qui partout s'attacha a concilier le polytheisme avec la philosophic, s'empara de ces doctrines et les fit entrer dans son systeme. Le penseur qui reahsa dans toute sa plenitude la fusion des traditions orien tales avec les doctrines heUeniques fut Posidonius d'Apamee. Les oeuvres sont presque enti^rement perdues; mais nous pouvons nous rendre compte de ses idees religieuses par celui qui les propagea avec enthousiasme dans le monde romain, le poete Manilius. 198 VI. Religions of the Go~eeks and Romans Le monde, qui est tout entier divin, est regi par des lois immuables. Les diverses parties de rorganisme universel sont liees par une soli- darite etroite, mais une sympathie plus intime unit les corps celestes aux etres et aux choses terrestres. Les revolutions des etoiles pro- duisent tous les changements de la nature et determinent toutes les actions humaines. Rouage infinie de ce grand mecanisme cosmique, rhomme doit se soumettre a la Patalite ; mais, s'il ne peut resister a ses lois, sa raison peut les connaitre, et, prevoyant ainsi leurs applications futures, penetrer les secrets de I'avenir. Car I'homme, microcosme, est comme I'univers gouverne par un esprit divin. Son ame est une parcelle detachee des feux superieurs. Descendue du ciel, eUe doit y remonter apres la mort, pour y vivre etemeUement au milieu des astres, dont I'essence est aussi la sienne. Cette conception grandiose et coherente ne s'imposa pas seulement aux intelligences ; elle contenait des elements mystiques qui faisaient appel au sentiment. Les etoiles, que I'homme apergoit et dont il observe les mouvements, sont pour les astrologues des dieux ; la con- templation du ciel deviant pour eux une communion. EUe trans- porte I'ame extasiee au milieu du choeur sacre des etoiles et la fait meme avant le trepas participer de leur divinite. Une religion qui plagait dans la contemplation et I'etude des astres I'ideal de la vie humaine, qui deduisait de theories sur la mecanique celeste de vastes doctrines theologiques, ne pouvait s'adresser qu'a une 61ite intellectueUe. Et en effet au debut de I'Empire eUe eut surtout des adeptes dans les hautes classes, dans les cercles de la cour et parmi les savants, et cependant elle devint largement popu- laire. Son pouvoir sur les masses la nouveUe religion siderale ne dut pas a une propaganda Utteraire, mais a la predication des pretres orientaux. Deja avant I'epoque romaine I'astrologie s'etait imposee au polytheisme egyptien et syrien, comme au mazdeisme perse en Mesopotamie. Or, vers le d^but de notre ere, les cultes de I'Egypte, de la Syrie et de la Perse se repandirent rapidement jusque dans les provinces occidentales de I'empire. Malgre les differences secondaires qu'ils peuvent presenter, on peut dire en general qu'ils firent triompher le systeme theologique, savant et mystique, qui s'etait constitue en Orient a I'epoque alexandrine. lis amenerent la predominance dans le paganisme d'un pantheisme solaire, dont Aurelien, en creant son culte de Sol invictus, voulut faire la religion officielle de I'empire. SECTION VII RELIGIONS OF THE GERMANS, CELTS AND SLAVS PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS By sir JOHN RHYS I THINK I have read somewhere how it was held to be a telling criticism on MacPherson's Ossian that it never or hardly ever alluded to the Almighty. The impression this would have made on the mind of any one with anything like a comprehensive knowledge of the nature and scope of such literatures as the Neoceltic languages possess would have been rather the contrary. As a rule they supply but few references to divinity or deity, no explicit account of the religion of our Celtic ancestors. Nearly everything relating to the old gods and goddesses of the British Isles — and I include with them practically those of the Celts of Britany — is a matter of inference drawn from various precarious sources such as myths and folklore, helped by in- ferences from the names of persons, rivers, and places. We have no document descriptive of the figures of the Celtic pantheon as such, and had MacPherson made excursions into theology of any kind he would have been travelling beyond the domain indicated by his materials, whatever they may have been. Everything we have of a literary nature has passed through the hands of Christian scribes, and what they or their early readers thought of the Irish texts before them may now and then be guessed by means of the exclamations which they left behind them, such as ' O Emmanuel ! ' How far the old scribes modified their originals it is seldom possible to say with any approach to certainty. Occasionally an illuminating gloss has slipped into the Irish text, and we are told that the character in hand was reckoned a divinity at one time. I am thinking of Conchubar or Conor, who is represented in the Ultonian Cycle of stories as king of Ulster. Of him we are told that he was a terrene god of the Ultonians of his time, by which was meant approximately the beginning of the Christian Era. The words used in Irish are dfa talmaide^. The former is the Irish for ' god ', and comes from an early deivos or devo-s of Indo-European standing : I need not enumerate the cognates in the related languages. The adjective talviaide, derived from talam, ' the earth, the ground,' means ' of the earth, terrene \ The explanation of this is to be ' See the Book of the Dun, i. 101'', and compare Windisch, Irische Texte, p. 269, and the Glossary. 202 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, mid Slavs sought in the ancient Irish story that the Irish gods had been beaten by the ancestors of the Irish race in a great battle, that the gods retreated into the earth, and continued to live inside the hills. The Fairies are likewise represented as making their homes underground ; and hence there has arisen a certain amount of natural confusion between them and the gods of Irish mythology. A passage in point in the Life of St. Patrick describes him, together with his bishops, as having come at night to a well near the court of King Loigaire ; it goes on to say that two daughters of the king came there for the purpose of washing at the break of day. The princesses were astonished at what they saw, and thought that the strange company consisted of Fairy men, or of terrene gods, or of mere phantoms. The Latin runs thus : '^ ' Sed illos viros Side aut deorum terrenorum aut fantassiam estimaverunt.' The Greeks relegated their pantheon to the cold heights of Olympus, but the Irish consigned theirs to abodes underground, where they form communities of their own, and whence they pay occasional visits to the world occupied by doini, ' men,' literally 'mortals'. It is to be noticed that not only is Conor called a god, dia, but that his sister, named Dechtire, is likewise called a goddess. She was the mother of the great Irish hero Cuchulainn, who accordingly occurs described (in the genitive case) meic dea ^ Dechtiri, filii deae Decteriae, ' of the son of goddess Dechtire.' When applying the term god or goddess to any figures represented in Irish story, one must as a rule be understood to be speaking of euhemerized divinities, person- ages whose divinity is a matter only of comparison and inference. Such direct reference to divinities as we have in the case of Conor and his sister are, as I have already suggested, sporadic in Irish literature : in Welsh I know of none. Now that I have chanced to call attention to the Irish dea, I have a reason for dwelling on it for a moment. Its importance lies in the fact that as a singular it is feminine ; the nominative, as the genitive of which it serves, is not known to occur. It might perhaps be an early deui-s making a genitive deui-as ; for in historical Irish, so to say, not only the final sibilant, but also both semivowels, would dis- appear, leaving the word reduced to dea or dea : the quantity of the e is not very certain. Anyhow, this is not altogether guesswork, as we find on the Continent a vocative, which would doubtless be also ' See the Book of Armagh, f. 12 a 1, cited in Stokes and Strachan's Thesaurus Palaeohibernicus, ii. 265 ; also Stokes's Patrick, pp. 314, 315. ' It is found in Emer's elegy to her husband Cuchulainn in the Book of Leinster, f. 123''. 1. President's Address: Rhys 203 the nominative DEUI, i. e. dewi, ' goddess.' It occurs in one of the defixions ^ discovered some years ago at Rom, in the neighbourhood of Poitiers. I am glad to add a second application of the genitive dea : it occurs in the name of a place mentioned more than once in the Tripartite Life of St. Patrick. In Irish it used to be called Inber Dea,^ 'the river-mouth of the Goddess,' the goddess being the river divinity, who owned the stream and haunted its waters. The river meant is not a large one : its name now is Vartry, but the harbour at its mouth, close to Wicklow, used to be an important and well-known one. This is borne out in the Latin of the Book of Armagh, where one reads ^ that St. Patrick's ship ' in opportunum portum in regiones Coolennorum in portum apud nos clarum qui uocatur hostium Dee dilata est '. To Inver Dea must be added such names as Sail Dea, ' Willow of the Goddess,' and Sndm Dea, ' Swimming-place of the Goddess,' both near Loch Mask, possibly on the Glensaul river, which empties itself into that lake in the county of Mayo.* The dee of the Book of Armagh is not the same word as our dea, though of the same meaning. The former is probably the genitive of the feminine corresponding to dia (= deuo-s), 'god,' and postulates in that case deua, genitive deues, whence dee (dei), de, of the same pronunciation, it would seem, as the' masculine d^i, dee, de, functioning^ ' They were read and published by M. Cairille Jullian in the Eevue Celtique, xix, 170-4j and discussed by me in The Celtic Inscripti*, later spelling fomhor, represented in Manx by foawr or fowar, ' a giant,' plural foawir : the Phillips' Prayer Book of 1610 {Manx Society, vol. xxxiii. 488) has it spelt four for the ' giant' in Psalm xix. 5. ¥rorafomor was derived an adj ecti ve/omoracA,. plural fomoraich, in later spelling fomhoraigh, which I have found in use in the North of Ireland in the sense of 'giants'. The Manx spelling oi fomorach \& foawragh, 'gigantic, huge' ; but it is also said to mean 'a pirate'. When this word meaning ' a giant ' came to mean ' a pirate ' is, as will be seen, a somewhat difficult question, and it applies, for instance, to a passj^e in Stokes's Acallam na Senurach, p. 63, where one reads of a fomor who was himself a match for 400 men, but otherwise resembled an ordinary pirate : is the word to be trans- lated there by giant or pirate ? 1. Presidents Address: Rhys 215 Bolg, which has been already discussed. (2) Fir Domnann, ' the Men of the goddess Domnu,' to whom Irish literature applies also an adjective Domnannach, meaning ' Dumnonian ' and referring to the people whom Ptolemy calls AaixvovLoi, occupying territory extending from the west of Ayrshire to the Ochil Hills ; but the name was the same as that of the Dumnonii, from whom Devon is so called, in the south-west of England. There is inscriptional evidence that Dumnonii is the better form. (3) The Gakoin or GaliHin, a name which seems vaguely to claim kinship with Galli and TaXdrai. In the epic story of the Tdin Bd Cualnge the Galedin are so much more energetic and alert than the other troops of Ailill and his Queen, that the latter could hardly be dissuaded from having them all murdered, lest they should secure to themselves all the glory of the expedition. Matters were compromised by having them distributed throughout the army so as to leave no five of them together. (4) Lastly a people called Lagin, from whom the province of Leinster derives the first portion of its name. They are represented as auxiliaries whom Labraid the Exile introduced to place him in power some five centuries before our era ; among his other troops were also Dumnonians.^ AU these peoples seem to have been intensely detested in Ireland, and the story, for instance, of the disappearance of the Galedin, as retailed by Eugene O'Curry in his Manners and Customs of the ancient Irish, ii. 261, is a very curious one : ' Such, however, was the envy,' he says, ' and jealousy, if not the fears, which their valour and fame had raised against them in the country, that the Druids of Erinn, whether at the instigation of Queen Medbh or not I cannot say, pronounced withering satires and incantations against them, (according to the story); so that their whole race became extinct in the land, excepting a few, and these few of the " Gallians," as well as the whole of their fellow foreign tribes, the Laighinns and the Domnanns, were after- wards totally extirpated by the monarch Tuathal Teachtmar, on his accession to the throne of Erinn, a. d. 79.' All this about the Galedin argues warriors who had no women of their own with them, and it is to be noticed that no pedigrees of Fir Bolg, Dumnonians, or Galedin find their places in the great collec- tions of genealogies such as those in the Booh of Leinster. We certainly read now and then of individual Goidels of Dumnonian descent or of Fir Bolg origin, a fact of importance to contrast with the absence of any human being with a Fomorian ancestry. It is * See Rhys's Celtic Britain, p. 298"' ; Rhys and Brynmor-Jones's Welsh People, p. 56", where 1 now think the Dumnonii have been wrongly treated as Goidels ; see also G. I. L. vii. 775-6. 216 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs needless to say that the numerous monuments of antiquity dotting the sites of the Moytura battles in the counties of Mayo and Sligo are not to be associated with the Fomori. They are the work of men, and some of them doubtless mark the scenes of real conflicts between the invading Dumnonians and the Goidels. Perhaps the confusing of the Dumnonians and their allies with the Fomori has not always been purely accidental. Take, for example, the case of Indech mac de Domnann ; that description of him suggests that he was a legitimate chief and leader of the Dumnonians; but to represent him as king of the Fomori was as much as to say in more modem phraseology that he was a devil and the chief of devils. In the absence of anybody who had to be called bad names, the king of the Fomori is represented as one of themselves, usually called Tethra, in the genitive Tethrach. Lastly, the story of the extirpation of the Dumnonians and the other peoples allied with them does not apply to the Fomori ; for they, like their foes the Tuatha de Danann, retired underground, where the peasantry of Kerry still suppose them to be living and ready to harm any one who ventures to explore ancient rdths and similar subterranean structures.^ This sort of belief has led to more confusion with the Fairies or the Men of the Sidh.^ It must also have tended to make the popular notion reduce the Fomori in point of stature, while it did not specially associate them with the sea. The story of the Destruction of Dd Derga's Hostel, published from the Booh of the Dvn and other MSS. by Dr. Stokes in the Revue Celtique, vol. xxii, gives a remarkable description of three Fomori whom Mac Cecht had brought as hostages to the court of his king, Conaire the Great, whose reign of seventy years formed a golden age for Erin in the second and first centuries before our era. Stokes has rendered it as follows, § 94 : — ' 'Tis hard for me to liken that (trio). ' Celtic Folklore, p. 433. A friend of mine who heard this paper read has since called my attention to the fact that in the Highlands the Fomori are threatened with the fate of being reduced into molecatchers ! At first sight this suggests that they cannot in this twentieth century procure a supply of babies, and that they have to be satisfied with moles and the like small deer. But not so ; the question is purely phonetical. The Sc. Gaelic word for a mole is famh ; so the mole man is calleA famhair ovfamhoir. 'Sowfamh proves to be a relatively late form of a word which Macbain gives as also fath, and he naturally compares the Welsh gwadd, 'a mole,' Breton gox, and Medieval English want, ' talpa.' So disappears the possibility of any etymological connexion in Gaelic between the word for giant and that for molecatcher. A question of greater difficulty is raised by the Irish /araaw-e with unmutated m : see Dinneen in his Irish-English Dictionary and O'Donovan in O'Reilly's. ■^ As, for instance, in the Moytura legend, § 41. 1. President's Address: Rhys 217 Neither of the men of Erin nor of the men of the world [i. e. the Continent of Europe] do I know it, unless it be the trio that Mac Cecht brought out of the land of the Fomorians by dint of duels. Not one of the Fomorians was found to fight him, so he brought away those three, and they are in Conaire's house as sureties that, while Conaire is reigning, the Fomorians destroy neither corn nor milk in Erin beyond their fair tribute. Well may their aspect be loathly ! Three rows of teeth in their heads from one ear to another. An ox with a bacon-pig, this is the ration of each of them, and that ration which they put into their mouths is visible till it comes down past their navels. Bodies of bone (i. e. without a joint in them) all those three have. I swear what my tribe swears, more will be killed by them at the Destruction than those they leave alive. Six hundred warriors will fall by them in their first conflict, and a man for each of their weapons, and one for each of the three themselves. And they will boast a triumph over a king or chief of the reavers.' Thus far of the Fomori, the giants opposed to the Tuatha de Danann, and of the parallel with the giants and the gods of Greek mythology. I must now return to the name of the king of the Tuatha de Danann, to wit, in Irish Nuudu or Nuada, which equates with Niid in Medieval Welsh, pronounced Nud and spelt in Modern Welsh Nudd. In Irish the full description of him was Nuadu arget- Idm, 'N. of the Silver Hand,' while in Welsh the compound was arranged differently, and the whole must have once sounded Nudons lanC-argentips. This would have resulted regularly in a later Nud Llaw ereint, but for the fact that alliteration seems to have set in early, making the name approximately into Ludons Mm'-argentios, whence the later form Llud llaweremt. Where there was nothing to induce the alliteration the name remained Nudons, to become Nud, So we find Welsh literature splitting up the character into two : (1) Nudd, who had a son called Gwyn son of Nudd, who, in the story of Kulhwch and Olwen (Mabinogion, p. 124), is endowed by the Almighty with the temper of the devils of the other world, and thence he could not be spared, lest this world should be ruined. (2) Lludd Llawereint, whose name has survived to become that of King Lud in English. But this and a great deal more that might be said in connexion with Nudd and Lludd would have remained mere guesswork, had not a temple of Nudons been discovered a good many years ago, namely, at Lydney in Gloucestershire. The find not only yielded several inscriptions involving the god's name in various forms, but also a very remarkable mosaic forming the 218 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs floor of his fane. One of the dedications to the god begins with D. M. NODONTi, which Hiibner completes into 'Deo M(arti?) Nodonti'; that is to say, Hiibner was in doubt whether the M stands for maeti or not. Another ends with deo nvdente | m. dedit, where he suggests ' DEO NUDENTE m(arti ? vel MAGNo) DEDIT '. In this case MEEiTO has also been proposed ; at all events the inscriptions leave us in doubt with which of the Italian gods, if any, the Romans equated the Celtic divinity. A little bronze crescent found on the spot does not quite decide the case, though it strongly reminds one of Neptune rather than of Mars. It represents the god as a crowned, beardless personage, driving a chariot with four horses. On either side is a figure supposed to represent the winds, and beyond them on each of the two sides is a triton with the front feet of a horse. The god holds the reins in his left hand, while his right hand uplifted grasps what may be a sceptre or perhaps a whip. The equipment of the god recalls in some measure the Chariot of the Sun ; but other portions of the find compel us to look rather to Neptune than any other god of classical antiquity. Lydney has possibly been called after the god: it is situated on the western bank of the Severn estuary. Similarly Ludgate suggests the possibility of his once having had a fane on Ludgate Hill some- where in the area now adorned by St. Paul's Cathedral. To this may be added the fact that Irish legend gives the Boyne a husband variously called Nechtan, Nuada, and Nuada Necht, and, whatever the euhemerists may say, the goddess of the river Boyne was originally meant when that river was first called Rig Mna Nuadat, a kenning which means ' the forearm of Nuadu's wife.' This must sufiice for the present as to the distribution of the possible traces of the god in the British Isles.^ , On the question whether Nudons was a sky-god or a water-god, or rather both at once, I would refer you to Mr. A. B. Cook's studies of ' The European Sky-god ', in the pages of Folk-Lore (vols, xvi, xvii, xviii), especially chapter iv, in which he advocates the latter view and interprets d. m. as deo magno. He has treated the whole subject with a great wealth of comparison and illustration. On the Continent no trace of Nudons has been detected in any Celtic country of antiquity, which is just the contrary with the Irish Liig, in Welsh Lieu and Llew. Lug was a favourite figure in Irish story, and Llew, or more commonly Llew Uawgyffes, has ' The principal references under this heading are to the Book of Leinster, i. 186'' ; O'Curry's Manners and Customs, iii. 156 ; my Celtic Heathendom, 119-33, and Cettic Folklore, 286, 432-4. 1. President's Address: Rhys 219 a very important place in one of the Welsh Mabinogion. On the Continent his name was Lugus (plur. Lugoves), which you will find in the Berlin C. I. L. xiii. 5078. After him was called Lugu-dunon, in Latin Lugudunum, shortened to Lugdunum, 'the dun or arx of Lugus.' But the famous Lugudunum, which we call Lyons, was only one of the places named after Lugus : according to Holder, no less in all than fourteen have been identified as towns of Lugus. They include, besides the city of I^yons, such others as Lugdunum Convenarum, or Saint- Bertrand de Comminges, in the department of Haute-Garonne ; Lugdunum Vocontiorum, now Montlahue in the department of the Drome; Lugdunum Remorum, now shortened to Laon, in the department of Aisne ; Lugdunum Batavorum, now Leyden in Holland, and other towns less well known. In the Neo- celtic languages the compound corresponding to Lugu-dunon appears to have been resolved into Dnnon Lugous or Dunon Lvgouos. At any rate this was the case with Welsh; for we have two strongholds named D'ln Lieu, now shortened to Dinlle, one consisting of the enormous moimd on the Carnarvonshire shore at the western mouth of the Menai Straits. The other was Dinlle Wrecon, which would seem to have been the ancient stronghold on the top of the Wrekin in Shropshire.^ Place-names originating in Lug's name are also not wholly wanting in Ireland ; but without going into details concerning them, I have said enough to show the wide area over which the name and cult of Lug must have been cherished in the Celtic world of antiquity. Lug's great festival among the insular Celts was the first day of August or the day of first-fruits, called in English ' Lammas '. In Irish it was called Lug-nassad ; but in Wales, which came under the rule of Rome, it is called Gwyl Awst, ' the feast of August,' and in the Welsh Laws it occurs as Dyw Awst, ' August's day.' One should, perhaps, speak rather of ' the feast of Augustus ' and ' Augustus's day ', since the emperor not only gave his name to the month of August, but seems also to have usurped the honours of the god on the first day of that month : for I find no reason to doubt that this was the date of the great festival of Lug in Gaul as well. In fact it may be taken to be the key to the importance and popularity of the First of August at the greatest of the cities called after Lug, namely, the Lugudunum on the Rhone. The Empire took advantage of this by associating Rome and Augustus with the First of Sextilis. The visible symbol of that cult was the * Ara Romae et Augusti ' dedicated on that day. * Since this was delivered a friend of mine thinks he has found a Dinlle in the neighbourhood of Wrexham, in Denbighshire. 220 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs It was probably a modification of the old cult with new names, Rome for Lugudunum and Augustus for Lug, with whom the emperor was possibly identified, just as he was sometimes treated or wished to be treated as Apollo, and sometimes as Mercury or Mars. The view that the first of August was Lug's day was advanced years ago by the learned Celtist, M. d'Arbois de Jubainville, and it has been accepted by most scholars, including Dr. Hirschfeld, the editor of the Berlin Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum ; but we have important exceptions in the person of M. Gaidoz, in the Revue Celtigue, and of M. Camille JuUian, some of whose learning is in process of passing through the press in the form of a great history of Gaul ; but the thousand and more pages which have appeared already fail to reach Lugudunum in the time of Augustus. So I am not sure whether he adheres to the same opinion still. '^ There is, however, another difficulty: I for one have always regarded Lug more or less in the light of a sun-god or an Apollo, but M. d'Arbois de Jubainville beholds in him a Hermes or Mercury. So also does Dr. Holder, who, s. v. Lugudunon, cites from the Berlin Corpus, xiii. 1769, the inscription at Lyons beginning with the words ' Mercurio Augusto et Maiae Augustae sacrum ex voto ', and relating to a temple built for that triad of divinities under the auspices of Tiberius. In this context Holder equates Mercury with Lug, and he is probably right. The explanation of the difficulty is possibly to be sought in the many-sidedness of Lug's character. In the Mabinogion of the Welsh he and his father Gwydion once act the part of craftsmen, and are accordingly called golden cordwainers ; but the father is the master craftsman. In Irish the father is practically effaced, and Lug himself is master of every craft and art worthy of mention in his time; and herein we have a striking parallel between Lug and his son Cuchulainn, who glories in having been trained by all the great men of the Ultonian Com^ in the special department in which each excelled. Inscriptions containing the name Lugus in the plural Lugoves, dative LugovUms, are recorded from Avenches in Switzerland and from Bonn on the Rhine. These at first sight would seem to suggest brothers bearing each the name Lugus, and, in fact, Irish legend shows traces of brothers Lug ; but on the whole I am inclined to think that Lug and his father were the persons meant. At any rate, the Spanish town of Uxama, bearing apparently a Celtic name, now Osma, supplies an inscrip- tion (C /. L. ii. 2818) which states that a temple or, at any rate, ' See the Revue Archeologique, 1878, p. 388, C /. L. xiii, p. 249 ; also the Revtie Oeltique, vi. 487, viii. 169, ix. 267, x. 238. 1. President's Address: Rhys 221 something devoted to the Lugoves — Lugovibus Sacrum — was pre- sented by a certain L. L. Urcico to a guild of shoemakers or college of cobblers, collegia sutorum d. d. This recalls in a striking manner the Welsh story about Gwydion and Llew making shoes for Arianrhod. Gwydion, however, was the culture hero, the Hermes or Mercury of the Welsh Mabinogi, the wily shape-shifter, the crafty bargainer, and the inimitable storyteller. So far I have roughly traced only one side of Lug's activities. In the Welsh story he can make a cast with amazing precision, and hurl his spear with stupendous effect ; in an Irish story he kills, with the cast of a sling-stone, Balor, the most terrible of the Fomori. He institutes a great feast of first-fruits on Lammas Day, when the demons — in Irish legendary phraseology the wizards — that produce blasts and blights have been expelled or else compelled to give hostages not to harm the crops or the dairy. Lug, under one or more of his surnames, or else one of the brothers Lug, takes part in this routing of the enemies with whom the farmer has to contend. After the defeat of the Fomori, Lug is represented as being made king by the Tuatha de Danann, and the great feast at Lammas is treated as Lug's marrying of the sovereignty of Erin, which is repre- sented as a princess crowned with a diadem of gold. A famous Irish king named Conn is described as led once on a time to the presence of this wonderful pair of more than human stature and beauty. Lug sat in his royal seat, and there never was seen at Tara a man of his great size or ' of his comeliness, for the beauty of his form, the wonderfulness of his face'. Erin the princess asked questions as to the succession of kings at Tara beginning with Conn, whom Lug, taking upon him the part of prophet, informed how long he should rule; and Conn was informed likewise of his successors, of every sovereign that was to be at Tara.^ As euhemerized gods have to die, we find that Erin's next husband was called Mac Greine, 'Son of the Sun'. Taking into consideration these suggestions of Irish legend, one is reminded rather of Apollo than of Hermes, and still more so if we combine them with the previous ones. If the same or a similarly wide range of attributes were ascribed to Lugus in Gaul, one cannot help asking how he was to be equated with any single Roman god of the Augustan age. At any rate it cannot seem wonderful if he was sometimes associated with Mercury and some- times with Apollo, possibly also with Mars. One can hardly advance in favour of Apollo the fact that he occurs in conjunction with Augustus in several of the Lyons inscriptions. There is more * For the text and translation see O'Curry's lectures, pp. 618-22. 222 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs perhaps to be said for an Apollo Siannus (C. /. L. xiii. 1669), who was, as it would seem, honoured at the expense of the common fund of the three provinces of Gaul. He was probably a Celtic god, as was Mars Segomo (ibid. xiii. 1675) who was honoured also at the expense of the three provinces. The latter god was so certainly Celtic that we find his name entering into men's names in Ogam inscriptions found in the country of the Dessi, what is now the county of Waterford in the South of Ireland. The associa- tion of the emperor with Apollo was sometimes carried farther. It is known, for instance, that Augustus affected the role of Apollo, and that the sculptor's art was sometimes applied to give him the attributes of that god.^ As you will have observed, when we come to Gaul we are brought into more direct contact with the divinities of the ancient Celts. We have inscriptions commemorating dedications to them, and we have notices of some of them in the works of various authors of antiquity. The words of Julius Caesar as to the pantheon of the Gauls will occur to you all ; and I would remind you of a very different passage, namely, Lucian's quaint account of Ogmios, the Gaulish god of eloquence, whom the Gauls equipped as a Hercules, because he achieved by the words of his mouth what Hercules did by means of his club. In addition to these sources of information a considerable number of statues of Gaulish gods and goddesses may be studied, either in the original or in casts, at the French National Museum, which is housed in the Chateau Saint-Germain under the direction of the learned M. Salomon Reinach. Among other scholars who have advanced our knowledge of the gods and goddesses of ancient Gaul, I may mention, from the pages of the Revue Celtique alone, M. Vallentin, M. Mowat, M. Gaidoz, M. Cerquand, and M. d'Arbois de Jubainville. It need hardly be said that the divinities of ancient Gaul receive almost every year additions to their number, owing to the discovery of statues or inscriptions not previously known. It has been my luck to discover the name of one of the last found gods of Gaul, not by digging, it is true, but by examining a monument which the ' For more on these points^ see Holder, s. v. Lugudunon and Lugus ; Rhys's Celtic Heathendom, pp. 236, 272, 307, 405-11, 414, 417 ; d'Arbois de Jubainville, he Cycle mythologique irlandais, pp. 138, 139, 304, 306 ; Revue Celtique, x. 238-41 ; Hirschfeld, Le Conseil des Gaules, in the collection of memoirs published by the members of ' La Socie'te iiationale des Antiquaires de France, Centenaire 1804-1904', pp. 213, 214; C. I. L. ii. 2818, xiii. 1669, 1675, 1726, 1727, 1728, 1769, and pp. 227, 229, 230, 249 ; Cook on ' The European Sky-god ', in Folk- lore for 1906, p. 310. 1. President's Address: Rhys 223 spade had brought to light in many pieces. I refer to the find, made ten years ago at Coligny in the neighbourhood of Lyons, of numerous bronze fragments, which are now in the museum of that city.^ About one half of the entire document is missing ; but the remains have been put together as far as possible, and prove to be portions of a calendar, together with other pieces which make the statue of the presiding god almost complete. For it is natural to suppose that the bronze calendar was set up at a temple dedicated to the god. Most Celtic philologists are agreed that the language of the calendar is Celtic, though they are not quite agreed where exactly in the Celtic family of languages it must have stood. As so much is Avanting, it is fortunate that the calendar covers five years ; so that, where it is complete, we have each month five times over. The god's name was Rivos, dative Rivo, and the name of his special month was Rivros, genitive Rivri. It thus seems evident that the name of the month is derived from that of the god. But Rivros means in the calendar not only his month, which was approximately that of our August, but also harvest or crop ; and in that sense we have a plural rivri. On the thirteenth day of Rivros, but with the number xiii carefully omitted, we have an entry to the fiffect that the harvest or crop was given or dedicated to the god Rivos {Dewo Rivo). The two entries remaining on that day in other years out of the five allow us to infer — for unfortunately abbreviations are used — that they practically convey the same sense, €xcept that they appear to substitdte as the recipient the god's priest for the god himself. On the fourth day of Rivros in the same year which supplies Dewo Rivo we have an entry which may be rendered ' Rivos is with us ', that is to say that the god himself was present. But the four other entries on that day suggest that some of the harvest reached the homestead or the house on that day. I infer that this refers to the bringing home of the first-fruits, or samples of the harvest, and that the god was supposed to be present to accept it. At all events neither of these sets of entries <;an refer to a final function. We have that just a month after the fourth of Rivros, namely, on the fourth of Anagantios, the following month, where we read in the three entries remaining the same words three times over, namely, Ociomu Rivri, which are in the plural, and mean, ' We have the harvests or crops with us.' I consider that I have got at the literal meaning of the foregoing entries; but 1 do not feel sure of the exact nature of the transactions to which ' See my C'eltae and Galli, pp. 17, 33, 33 ; Celtic Inscriptions of France and Italy, pp. 83, 84. 224 ril. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs they refer. So much, however, seems to be certain, namely, that the month belonged in a special manner to the god Rivos, the only divinity to which the calendar, so far as we have it, can be said to refer. It seems not improbable that Rivos was a local name for the god Lugus, after whom the month of August may well have been called. The question naturally suggests itself whether Augustus had not some such a fact in his mind when he chose Sextilis as the month to be called after him, and not September, the month in which he was born. The words of Suetonius (Augustus, 31) seem to suggest that he and others would have thought September the natural month for the emperor to have taken; but there was a reason ready to hand for selecting Sextilis, and it was incorporated in the decree of the Senate, as given by Macrobius (i. 12. 35), namely, that Sextilis was the month in which the emperor first became consul, and the month in which his great victories had happened. This appears amply sufBcient ; but it by no means excludes a different reason from the one avowed, or at any rate a diiFerent form of the one avowed : that is, a form more flattering and thoroughly pleasing to a personality disposed to play the role of ApoUo. It is unfortunate that the etymological meaning of the name Rivos is uncertain ^ ; but several men's names derived from it are recorded by Holder, such as Rivuhis and Riumanos, more correctly Riumanios, 'son of Riumanos.' The name Rivos is to be found also in an Irish story, namely that of the formation of Lough Ree. The forms which Rivos takes in Medieval Irish are Rib, pro- nounced Ribh ( = Riv), and Ri or Rii, which was perhaps the genitive of Rib. Rib is represented as the son of a king of Munster leaving his father's house at the head of a multitude of men, women, horses, cattle and other property, in quest of a place in which to settle. Rib and his people were led to the banks of the Shannon, where they settled, and where Rib had charge of a magic well, which after the lapse of thirty years burst forth at Lammas and drowned the district. The result was the formation of Lough Ree, which is an expansion of the Shannon between Athlone and Lanesborough. The magic well was at one time a favourite theme of stories both in Ireland and in Wales, but what exactly one is to make of the story which I have summarized I hardly know.^ If we regard Rib ^ Possibly the language of the calendar was one that had begun to drop Indo-European p. In that case Rivos would admit of being referred to the same origin as \V'elsh rhyw ' kind, sex ', and Gothic fraiv ' Saame, Geschlecht, Nachkommen.' * See the Revue Celtique, xv. 445-6, xvi. 151-2, and- O'Grady's Silva Gadelica, i. 233, ii. 484, 532 ; also Rhys's Celtie Folklore, pp. 435-7. 1. President's Address: Rhys 225 as a blurred version of an ancient Celtic divinity, the question arises what sort of a divinity that was. One may answer that Rib's role in the only story known about him would seem to point to Apollo rather than to Mercury. This brings me back to Rivos and the bronze fragments found at Coligny. When they were put together, under the direction of M. Dissard in the Lyons Museum, the statue of the god grew out of the ruins almost complete ; so complete, in fact, that the only difference of opinion that has arisen is as to whether they make an Apollo or a Mars. M. Reinach is very decidedly in favour of Apollo, and it was he that called my attention to the striking parallel between Augustus in the role of Apollo giving his name to the month of August, and Rivos giving a name derived from his own to RivTos, the same month. The Coligny calendar is not supposed to date before our era. Mr. Nicholson thinks that the writing belongs to the middle of the first century. Moreover, nobody has suggested, as far as I know, that the statue belongs to an earlier period than the calendar. So one sees pretty clearly what happened as to the image of the god Rivos. The priests of the Sequani and other Celts of Gaul must have been familiar with the association of Augustus with the month of August. So when they wanted an image of Rivos, who was specially identified with the same month under its native name of Rivros, they simply procured a statue of Apollo with whom Augustus was pleased to identify him- self; or — shall I rather say ? — a statue of Augustus in the character of Apollo. In a word, Rivos came to be represented as his statue shows him, under the reflex influence of Augustus and the teaching of the Roman theology of the time. Prima facie, Augustus as Mars is less probable than Augustus as Apollo, as the model adopted in connexion with the calendar of an agricultural people interested mainly in their festivals, the state of the weather, and the operations of harvest. In either case the equation illustrates one of the ways in which the paganism of imperial Rome tended to influence the native paganism of Gaul, 226 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs 2 THE DRUIDS IN THE LIGHT OF RECENT THEORIES By canon MacCULLOCH It is first necessary to discuss recent theories of the origin of the Druids. Of these M. d'Arbois de Jubainville's theory, based on Caesar's words that ' the system is thought to have been devised in Britain and brought thence into Gaul ', and alleging that Druidism was the religion of the Goidels of Britain, and became that of their Gaulish conquerors, passing ultimately to Gaul, is scarcely likely. Gauls in Britain might have accepted Druidism, but it could hardly have spread into Gaul and obtained such great influence there. Goidels and Gauls were akin, and probably possessed the same religion from the first. Caesar's words suggest that the British origin of Druidism was only an opinion, not a fact ; and in all probability Britain, being less open to foreign influences than Gaul, had preserved its Druidic cults, &c., intact. Hence Gauls went to Britain to perfect themselves in Druidism. On the other hand we have Phny's opinion (H. N. xxx. 1), that it passed from Gaul to Britain. Another theory, supported on different grounds by Sir John Rhys, Mr. Gomme, and M. Salomon Reinach, is that the Druids were a pre-Celtic priesthood, who imposed themselves upon their Celtic conquerors. Sir John Rhys maintains that Celtic polytheism differed from Druidism, which was of a lower order. But there exists no evidence to show that the Druids ever were priests of a non-Celtic people, nor is it easy to see how the priests of a conquered race could ever have obtained such influence over their conquerors as the Druids certainly possessed. The case of conquering peoples who resort occasionally to priests or magicians of a subject race because the latter possess more powerful magic, is not really analogous. The Druids were not resorted to occasionally, but dominated the Celts always, in all departments of life. Mr. Gomme contends that many Druidic beliefs (e. g. in shape-shifting), practices (e. g. human sacrifices of atonement), and functions (e. g. judging, arranging boundaries, &c.) were opposed to Aryan sentiment, and seeks an analogous case in the occasional services of a similar kind rendered by un-Aryan tribes to Hindu village communities. But existing evidence shows that the Druids rendered more than occasional services to the Celts, nor was it only among the ruder Celtic tribes that their influence predomin- ated, as Mr. Gomme contends. Moreover, the hostility of Rome to 2. Recent Theories of the Druids : MacCulloch 227 the Druids as true Celtic priests is inexplicable if their position only corresponds to that of pariah priests in India. Further, if their beliefs and practices were opposed to ' Aryan sentiment ', why should Aryan Celts so readily have accepted them ? The Aryans must have had a savage past, and such practices were still in vogue among them, while recent theories about the Aryans show that they were probably on a lower level than the peoples they conquered. The basis of all Celtic cults was doubtless composed of beliefs and ceremonies akin to those of the aborigines, instead of being of a loftier and purer kind. M. Reinach argues that the probable lack of images among the Celts before the Roman conquest suggests a religious prohibition and a priesthood powerful enough to enforce it. The existence of such a priesthood he finds implied among certain pre-Celtic peoples by their megahthic structures and lack of images ; and therefore reasons that these priests were the Druids, who became the priests of the Celts. But this conclusion is based on negative evidence; there exist no relics of purely Celtic images in Gaul, therefore there never can have been such images. But in other regions, where image- worship was common, images are not now found. If the Celtic images were of wood, their disappearance would be accounted for. Moreover, the Celts in Ireland were certainly image- worshippers, although the Druids were strong among them, and certain of the Gaulo-Roman images show no trace of classical influence, but in their form suggest existing native types. Further, if the Celts were opposed to image- worship as a result of Druidic influence, why should such an outbreak of it have occurred after the Roman conquest ? M. Reinach's conten- tion that the Celts adopted Druidism en bloc is shown to be incredible, while his supposition that the Celtic military caste had begun to rebel against this ex hypothesi foreign priesthood, and that their power was consequently declining, is not supported by evidence. Priest and soldier have always opposed each other wherever such bodies exist as separate castes. Taking, therefore, these various theories together, there is no historic or epigraphic evidence for them, while the classical evidence contradicts them. Although Druids are not formally connected with certain Celtic regions, it must be remembered that no classical writer has written fuUy about them. Hence the probabUity is that the Druids existed wherever the Celts were found, though perhaps not always called Druids. Against the theory that they were pre-Celtic stands the fact that they are not said to have existed in such a non-Celtic region as Aquitania. The theory demands the supposition that the Celts had no native priesthood or that it was overcome by the Druidic priesthood. Certain Celtic priests were called gutuatri, attached to certain temples and to a definite cult. M. d'Arbois de Jubainville q2 228 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs considers that these were the only priests known to the Celts before the coming of the Druids. But the probabihty is that they were a Druidic class, since the Druids were a composite priesthood with a variety of functions. If the priests or servants of Belenus, described by Ausonius and called by him aedituus Beleni, were gviuatri, then the latter must have been connected with the Druids, since the poet says they were of Druidic stock. Similarly the sacerdotes and antistites of the Boii, mentioned by Livy, may have been Druids proper and gutuatri. Classical evidence suggests that the Druids were a great inclusive priesthood, with a variety of functions — ^priestly, prophetical, magical, medical, judicial, and poetical. Caesar attributes many of these to the Druids ; in other writers they are each in part in the hands of different classes. Diodorus refers to the Celtic philosophers and theologians (Druids), diviners, and bards, as do also Strabo and Timagenes, while Strabo gives in Greek form the native name of the diviners, ovaVtis, a word akin to the Celtic vatis (Irish faith). These diviners may also have had bardic functions, since vdtis means both singer and prophet. Again, Druid and diviner were closely connected, since both studiednature and offered, or assistedin, sacrifice and auguries according to Strabo, Timagenes, and Cicero. Hence, perhaps, Lucan does not mention diviners, but only Druids and bards. Diviners were probably a Druidic sub-class, standing midway between the Druids proper and the bards. Pliny speaks of ' Druids and this race of prophets and medicine- men ', and this suggests that some were priests, some diviners, while some practised an empiric medical science. On the whole this agrees with what is met with in Ireland, where the Druids, though appearing in the texts as magicians, were certainly priests and teachers. Side by side with them were the Filid, ' learned poets,' occupying a higher place than the third class, the bards. The Filid, who may have been known as Fdthi, prophets, were also diviners and in certain methods of augury used sacrifice, while the Druids proper also used divination. Thus Druids or Priests, Vates, and Bards in Gaul correspond to Druids or Priests, Fdthi or Filid, and Bards in Ireland, their functions in both cases overlapping. This inclusive Druidic priesthood was a native Celtic priesthood, not an aboriginal priesthood adopted by the Celts. Some have seen in the Druids an esoteric and occult priesthood ; but the probability is that they had grown up pari passu with the native religion and magic. In certain parts of Gaul, they may have been more civilized as a result of the influence of Greek civilization filtering in through the MassiUan colonies, but as a whole they were addicted to magic, and took part in all local, as well as the greater, cults. They had been evolved from primitive medicine-men, later perhaps a series of priest-kings, practising magic and officiating at religious ceremonies. The folk themselvea 2. Recent Theories of the Druids : MacCulloch 229 may have practised minor cults, but they doubtless felt that true success depended on the presence of a Druid. The Druids cannot be regarded as a philosophic priesthood, advocat- ing a pure religion to a polytheistic people ; nor was Druidism a formal system outside Celtic religion. It covered the whole ground of Celtic religion : in other words, it was that religion itself. The idea that the Druids possessed esoteric knowledge is due to the idea entertained by a chain of classical writers that they were philosophers. What might be called a ' Druidic legend ' was formed, but the basis of it was probably to be found in the fact that the Druids taught immortahty, which no classical priest had done. They knew also that the Druids had a certain organization and considered themselves divinely inspired. The eyes of classical observers were dazzled and read much into this priesthood which it did not possess. But side by side with this ' legend ' was the fact that the Druidic religion was considered cruel, grossly superstitious, and savage, while on these and other grounds it was attacked by the Roman power. Modern writers in turn have probably exaggerated the force of what classical writers stated. The Druidic associations were probably not much higher than the organized priest- hoods of barbarians. Their doctrine of metempsychosis, if it really was taught, involved no ethical content as in Pythagoreanism. Their astronomy was probably astrological : their knowledge of nature a series of cosmogonic myths and speculations. The evidence points in this direction, while, if a true Druidic philosophy and science had existed, it is strange that it exerted no influence on the thought of the time. As to the supposed connexion with Pythagoreanism, while Pjrthagorean teachings may have reached Gaul, it is certain that the Druidic teaching of immortality in no way resembled the Pythagorean metempsychosis doctrine. There are Celtic myths regarding the re-birth of gods and heroes, but the doctrine taught was apparently this, that the soul was clothed with a body, its own or a new one, in the future state. The Druidic teaching of bodily immortality was mistakenly assumed to be the same as the Pythagorean doctrine. Other points of resem- blance were then discovered. The organization of the Druids was assumed by Ammianus to be a kind of corporate life ; but those who viTote most fuUy of the Druids knew nothing of this. The position and power of the Druids demanded some kind of organization, and in Gaul there was a chief Druid wielding authority over the others. Evidence tends to show that the insular Druids were similarly organized and had a chief, as was certainly the case with the Filid. M. Bertrand's development of the words of Ammianus, and his theory that the Druids were a kind of monks living a corporate life, while Ipish monas- ticism was a transformation of the system, is opposed to the evidence. Irish Druids had wives and children. Christianity opposed Druidism 230 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs too much to adopt any part of its system, and there is no doubt that Irish monasticism was modelled on that of the continent. The Druidic organization probably denoted no more than that the Druids were bound by certain ties, and were also more or less graded, with different classes practising different functions, though these were perhaps never very exclusively defined. The reUgious, magical, and other functions of the Druids are well known ; their position as teachers, both in Gaul and Ireland, deserves examination. Their teaching of immortality had the practical end of making men fearless of death. Their scientific teaching was connected with magic and included cosmogonic myths. Their theology was largely mythological ; their moral teaching resem- bled that found in all barbaric societies. Ritual formulae, runes, incantations would also be taught: these were probably the subject of the verses which were never committed to writing and which were kept secret from the people. This secrecy did not involve an esoteric, philosophic, or monotheistic teaching. These secret formulae were magical, and were kept secret lest they should lose their power by becoming too common. The last point to be discussed is the question raised by some recent writers as to the differences between the continental and insular Druids, viz. that the latter had no organization, no judicial functions, and were magicians, not priests. The Irish Druids have already been shown to have possessed some organization. Judicial functions are ascribed in the Irish texts not to the Druids proper, but to the Filid, who have been shown to be a Druidical class. M. d'Arbois, de Jubain- ville suggests that the exercise of such functions by the Christian clergy in Ireland might be due to the fact that the Druids had a judicial position. As to their religious functions, while they appear in the texts rather as magicians, magic and religion were always closely connected, while we know from Tacitus that the British Druids were priests. The absence of reference to their priestly functions in the texts is doubtless due to a deHberate suppression of all that related to religion or the pagan priesthood. Certain rites in which the Druids took part involved the slaughter of animals, and that slaughter must have been sacrificial. In other notices of ritual which have escaped being tampered with, the Druids appear as taking part in sacrifice. The opposition of Christian missionaries to the Druids shows that the latter were priests ; if they were not, it remains yet to be discovered what body of men did exercise priestly functions in pagan Ireland. Thus a close examination of the position, powers, and functions of the Druids in Celtic life inevitably leads to the conclusion that no non^ Celtic priesthood could ever have attained to these among the conquer- ing Celts. They were from the beginning as Celtic as the Celts who submitted to them and whom ' they tamed as wild beasts are tamed '. 3 THE RELIGION OF THE MAKERS OF THE STONE CIRCLES IN BRITAIN By a. L. lewis. (Abstract) There are in this country various kiads of stone circles which it is generally easy to distinguish from each other : hut circles, or circular walls of stones without mortar, which have been the founda- tions of prehistoric dwellings : barrow circles, or rings of stones surrounding sepulchral tumuli, barrows, or cairns : circles consisting of larger piUar-like stones, with spaces between them, concerning which there is no evidence that they were ever intended for burial- places, and which seem suitable for pubhc assemblies and the per- formance of public ceremonies : and circles which, although their primary purpose was probably sepulchral, seem to suggest by their construction that rites and ceremonies may also have been conducted in them. It is with the two latter classes we are here concerned, to see whether any inference can be drawn from them as to the rehgious ideas of those who set them up. The Bards and Druids of the later middle ages claimed some know- ledge of the stone circles, and those of the present day make use of small circles of a kind ; but the best informed admit their ignorance, which is proved by the fact that, whereas they always insist on a central stone, on which the presiding official takes his stand, no such stone remains or seems ever to have existed in most of our ancient stone circles. No clear statement as to the use of the circles has come down to us either in history or' tradition, but inferences may perhaps be drawn from their construction or surroxmdings. It is well known that there is at Stonehenge an outlying stone called the ' Friar's Heel ', and that at midsummer, which was a great pagan festival, the sun is seen from the circle to rise nearly over the top of this stone; that, when the stone was placed in its present position, the sun probably rose exactly over its summit; and that attempts have been made to fix the age of Stonehenge by determining the period at which it did so rise. Even if, as has been suggested, the ' Friar's Heel ' had nothing to do with the circles, this would not affect the question ; for the whole of Stonehenge was directed to the mid- summer sunrise, and Sir Norman Lockyer has dated it to about 1600 B.C. by the position of the earthen banks, which form the avenue in which the ' Friar's Heel ' stands, and which are possibly much older than it is. 232 VII. Religions oj the Germans, Celts, and Slavs This apparent reference to the sunrise at midsummer or at Beltane (May 1) may also be illustrated by Avebury, Arborlow, Stanton Drew, and other circles. At Stanton Drew the distances between the three circles and the other stones, and the diameters of the circles themselves, appear to have been arranged in certain proportions, within an error of workman- ship of one per cent. The diameter of the north-eastern circle is precisely the same as that of the outer stone circle of Stonehenge, and is to the diameter of the central circle in the proportion of five to nineteen. Five, seven, and nine, aU of which occur in the pro- portionate measurements of this group, are significant numbers, but nineteen is the most important of any, because of the statement of Hecataeus respecting the island of the Hyperboreans, where ApoUo (or the sun) had a stately grove and renowned temple of circular form, beautified with many rich gifts ; that the god visited the island once in the course of nineteen years, in which period the stars complete their revolution, and that for this reason the Greeks distinguished the cycle of nineteen years by the name of the greater year. There is little doubt that the island referred to is Great Britain, and the temple has been thought by many to be that of Avebury or Stonehenge, but Stanton Drew is more accessible from the sea, and therefore more likely to have been known to casual visitors, and the embodiment of the number nineteen in its measurements makes its identity with the temple of Hecataeus very probable. Nineteen is in fact the lunar cycle, the number of years in which it was thought that the sun and moon returned to the same relative place in the heavens, and aUusions to it have been suspected in the inmost circle at Stonehenge, at Dance Maen, and at Boscawen-un circles, aU of which consist of nineteen stones. The temple of Hecataeus may indeed be a sort of composite tradition based upon several circles rather than upon any one. At MitcheUsfold in Shropshire a prominent hill to the north-east is exactly in the same line from the circle as is the ' Friar's Heel ' from Stonehenge; the top of this hiU, though a sufficiently good skymark, is not much elevated above the horizon, and the ground was no doubt carefully selected so that the rising of the sun should not be obscured ; the hill to the south where the sun is at its highest point is, however, the highest in the country round, and that is so in other instances. The summit of the hill to the north-east of MitcheUsfold is just half- way between it and another circle now nearly destroyed, and beyond that in the same line the view is terminated by a range of three low hills. This suggests a possible symbolism of three and one, which of course has nothing to do with the Christian Trinity, but might have some connexion with the pagan phaUic trinity and unity. Such hills also stand north-east from Penmaenmawr, Keswick, and Brogar Circles. 3. Makers of British Stone Circles: Lewis 233 At the remarkable circle at CaUernisli in the island of Levsis there is a range of three hills to the north-east, and there it has also been discovered that any one standing at the south end, so as to look up along the tops of the stones forming the south line to the top of the central stone, finds his eyes directed to the pole-star. Although references to direct north are not frequent in southern Britain, there are many lines of observation in directions between north-east and north, but too far north for the rising of the sun ; these have been associated by Sir Norman Lockyer with the rising of certain special stars, selected, as he suggests, as ' clock-stars ', but perhaps also for other reasons. In Scotland, on the other hand, there are large groups of circles, in some of which the north seems to have been especially regarded. Circles consisting of single or sometimes double concentric rings of standing stones are numerous in the western half of Scotland, where, however, unlike those of England and Wales, they are chiefly sepulchral ; but in the north-east of Scotland there are two large groups of circles, each of a special type, which also appear to have been primarily sepulchral, but one of which, confined to the country within fifty miles from Aberdeen, is also very suggestive of other purposes. This type of circle has a small cist in the middle, covered by a tumulus, siuTounded by a sort of retaining wall of comparatively small stones, outside which is a circle of larger standing stones ; and, filUng up the space between two of them, and always in the southern half of the circle, facing northward, is a large stone, standing on its longest edge, locally called the altar-stone, though it could not have served as an altar, and is thus more scientifically called the 'recumbent stone'. This feature, peculiar to the Aberdeen circles, certainly suggests some object in addition to that of burial, and the space between the tumulus and the outer circle is admirably suited for a processional path or for circular dances ; the presence of the burial cist and tumulus suggests that any religious rites performed might be in the nature of ancestor worship. When the recumbent stone faces due north, it may be supposed that the pole-star was the object to be observed, and there are instances in other countries of the pole-star being regarded as the habitation of the departed ; when it faces somewhat east or west of north it probably had reference, as Sir Norman Lockyer tells us, to the rising or setting of some circum-polar star, either as a ' clock- star ', or warning of the approach of sunrise, or out of respect, for some reason or other, to the star itself. It has been objected to this that the recumbent stone does not afford a sufficiently precise point of observation, but the observations of prehistoric days were by no means so accurate as our own, and, if they were made from behind the recumbent stone, all that was required of them could have been attained without difficulty. The Rev. Dr. James Garden, Professor of Theology 234 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs in the King's College of Aberdeen, wrote a letter on 15 June, 1692, (reprinted in Archaeologia, vol. i), to Aubrey, the English antiquary, describing some of these circles, and sajdng that the general tradition concerning them was that they were places of worship and sacrifice in heathen times. Those who say that Aubrey and Stukeley invented the theory that circles were temples, are therefore clearly wrong; and since this Aberdeen tradition could hardly have been handed down from the neohthic or even from the bronze period, it would seem that the suggestion that circles were used by the Druids is not so unreasonable as it was a few years ago the fashion to believe. It is true that the building of circles began long before the appearance of the Druids in history, but we do not know how far Druidism went back into the prehistoric period, nor how, when, or where it began. It may have started here in the neolithic age, or, if it were brought in at a later period, the Druids may have made use of any structures they found ready for them ; if indeed they had not used them, they would pro- bably have destroyed them, since their power in reMgious matters was absolute and intolerant. The apparent suggestions of sun and star-worship or observation in the circles fit well with this idea, as also does the imperfect but traditional use of circlesof akindby thosewho, at a later period, have endeavoured to restore some of the ancient glories of the Druidic hierarchy. My conclusion, therefore, respecting the circles is that they possess features which indicate the probabUity of sun and star worship, or observance of some kind, and the possibility of ancestor, mountain, and phallic worship having been carried on in them. 4 THE VALUE OF THE MABINOGION FOR THE STUDY OF CELTIC RELIGION By E. ANWYL In dealing with the Mabinogion for the present purpose, it is clear at the outset that the romances of Owein and Luned, Peredur, and Geraint and Enid, which are substantially identical in narrative with Chretien de Troyes' Yvain, Perceval, and Erec et Enide, whatever Celtic elements they may ultimately be found to contain, are in a different category from tales such as The Four Branches of the Mabinogi, Macsen Wledig, Lludd and Llevelys, and Kulhwch and Olwen. In these latter stories there are such numerous and obvious 4. Celtic Religion in the Mabinogion : Anwyl 235 allusions to Welsh topography, that it is not unreasonable to sup- pose that some of their material, at any rate, is derived from local legend and folk-lore, and that, when they were written, they were composed by men who were in touch with living mediaeval narrative. In spite of the fact that, as literary works of imagination, they contain elements derived from the fancy of their writers, yet, the more they are examined, the more clearly they seem to contain traces of strata of narrative ; these traces, though, often very faint, are yet linked to the pre-Christian ideas of Wales, and so cast some rays of light on the early religious conceptions of the Principality. The main stories which form the Mabinogion are linked together in the bonds of a common tradition, probably as the professional stock- in-trade of the bards and story-tellers of Wales. The agglomeration of narrative in question as a more or less united whole reveals itself in other portions of Hterature connected with mediaeval Wales, in Geoffrey of Monmouth, in the Welsh Triads, in the older body of Welsh poetry, and in the various legendary allusions, that are scattered through the works of the Welsh mediaeval poets. The stories connected with the various characters are not everywhere identical, nor are they combined together everywhere in the same pro- portions; but the body of narrative as a whole is substantially the same, and the connexions in which it is found lead forcibly to the view that its basis is a professional tradition, handed down and developed by the bards, who were officially connected, in Wales as in Ireland, with the coiu-ts of the Welsh princes. The very term ' mabinogi ' , as Sir John Rhys has pointed out, appears to mean ' the stock-in-trade of a "mabinog" or apprentice-bard'. That the bards of Wales combined with their purely poetic functions those of story-tellers is clear from statements in the Four Branches themselves, as, for example, the reference in Math ab Mathonwy to Gwydion and Giluaethwy's skill in story-telling, when they went as bards to the court of Dyfed. From the purely bardic circles the stories in question appear to have passed into the Welsh monasteries and abbeys, and it is in MSS. copied in these institutions that they have come down to us. Before arriving at their present form, they appear to have undergone several recensions, both oral and Hterary, and many of their earher features have doubtless been obscured in the process. In their present form, as the writer has endeavoured to show in articles in the Zeitschrift fur celtische Philologie, they reflect, in their references to gradations of rank and to homage, the ideas of feudal times, and, as he has suggested later in the Celtic Review, the collection as a whole in its final form shows signs of being arranged on a chronological basis (parallel to that of Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae), where we seem 236 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs to have stories of the pre-Roman, the Roman, and the post-Roman periods. It is even possible that the compilation of the collection as a whole was suggested by the desire to supplement and to rival the work of Geoffrey of Monmouth. The stories of Lludd and Llevelys and of Macsen Wledig have all of them the appearance of being supplementary to Geoffrey's narrative, and with Lludd and Llevelys and Macsen certain of the narratives of the Four Branches are linked both topographically and otherwise. The three chief literary recensions which The Pour Branches of the Mabinogi appear to have undergone before reaching their present form, appear to be those of Gwynedd (Western North Wales), Dyfed (Western South Wales), and Gwent (Eastern South Wales). The first recension may have been made at Clynnog or Beddgelert in Carnarvonshire, the second at Whitland or Talyllychau (Talley) in Carmarthenshire, and the third in one of the large abbeys of Glamorgan or Monmouth, possibly in the Benedictine Priory of Monmouth itself. There are several linguistic points of con- tact between the Gwentian recension of the Four Branches and the Welsh versions of the Chretien romances, and, consequently, it may well be surmised that they are products of the same literary school. According to Mr. Egerton PhiUimore, the story of Kulhwch and Olwen probably reached its present form at Talyllychau in Carmarthenshire ; but, before reaching that form, it has clearly undergone a process of development similar to that of the Four Branches, though probably not in the same districts. With some of its oldest strata the present writer has dealt in his article in the Celtic Review on ' Wales and the Ancient Britons of the North '. In the case of the Four Branches it is probably to the Gwentian recension that the story belongs of Gwri Wallt Euryn and Teyrnon Twryf Vhant. As for Gwri, however, it is not impossible that a story originally associated with CaerUeon (Chester) and the Wirral promontory of Cheshire, called in Welsh Cil Gwri (the retreat of Gwri), has, owing to the identity of the two names, been transplanted into Gwent into association with Caerleon-on-Usk. The local connexion of Teyrnon with Gwent shows itself clearly in the name Llantarnam, anciently known as Nant Teyrnon (the brook or valley of Teyrnon). The transplanting of stories from one district to another is one of the chief difficulties in the way of a thorough analysis of all ancient documents, and the Mabinogion in this matter is no exception. In the earliest or Gwynedd recension the majority of the stories are topographically connected with Carnarvonshire and Anglesey and with the adjoining parts of Merionethshire. This recension shows traces of stories from the Dee Valley, especially from the neighbourhood of Llangollen and the Hiraethog district, relating to Bran and his family. Prom some of the allusions in the Gogynfeirdd poetry, we 4. Celtic Religion in the Mabinogion: Anwyl 237 know that Gwynedd (Western North Wales) bore the name of Bro Beli (the land of Beli), while Eastern North Wales was called Bro Bran (or ' y Vran wo '). It is not improbable that the conception of the rivalry of the families of Beli and Llyr (the father of Bran), which is implied in the framework of the Four Branches, reflects the rivalry that existed at one period between the two districts in question, and something of this tradition has passed into GreofErey of Monmouth's account of the feud between BeUnus and Brennus. It is from the eastern portion of North Wales that the name Matholwch (also known as Mallolwch) comes; the name being found, according to Mr. Egerton PhiUimore, in that of Caer Vallwch ( = Vallolwch) in Flintshire. Closely linked to the Gwynedd recensions of the Four Branches are the stories of Macsen Wledig and Lludd and Llevelys. In some genealogies Macsen is represented as the father of Pebhg and Baglan, the saints of LlanbebUg and Llanfaglan, the two parishes of Carnarvon. Perhaps it might not be inopportune here to mention that both Beli and Llyr were associated with the sea. Llyr (the Irish Ler, gen. Lir) is in Welsh a common noun meaning the sea, while the name Beh, in its association with the sea, survived in the expressions Biw Beli (the cattle of Beh) for the waves, and Gwirawt Veli (the liquor of Beli) for brine. In the story of Macsen Wledig, Macsen is said to have conquered the Isle of Britain from the sons of Beli, and to have driven them ' upon the sea ', an evident allusion to their connexion in popular legend with that element. In the story of Math ab Mathonwy the fortress of Araiu-ot, daughter of Beli and Don, is accessible over the sea ; and it is therefore not unMkely that BeU and his family were associated in the popular mind with the sea and its islands. In the Four Branches of the Mabinogi as we now have them, there is no reference to Arthur, but this is probably due to an attempt in their latest recensions at a chronological treatment. In the Book of TaUessin, as well as in Kulhwch and Olwen, which give the bardic body of legend in a less clarified form, Arthur is made to associate freely with the ' men of Caer Dathyl ', PwyU, Pryderi, Taliessin, and others. In Kulhwch and Olwen, Arthur is even said to have been related to the men of Caer Dathyl (i.e. the Don family) on his mother's side, a statement which is probably an echo of ancient Arthurian legends in Arfon. The question now arises, in view of these various recensions, whether there are any portions of the Mabinogion in which traces are visible of pre-Christian religious ideas; and the writer suggests that such traces may be safely looked for in connexion with the following features. 1. The existence in these stories of aetiological myths. (a) Myths explanatory of certain place-names. The value of 238 r//. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs these is that they seem to spring, in some cases at any rate, from living mediaeval folk-lore, and so may, through their association with definite place-names, go back in some of their features to a remote antiquity. There is here the possibility, as in local folk-lore generally, that stories and explanations may be handed on from generation to generation, containing strata of ideas that were psychologically and sociologically natural under earlier conditions, but which could hardly have been spontaneously invented at a later stage, owing to their incongruity with the later psychological and sociological situations. The place-name stories of the Four Branches have been discussed by Sir John Rhys in various articles, and by the present writer in the Zeitschrift fur cdtische Philologie. In the Four. Branches, they relate mostly to Gwynedd, Ardudwy, Dyfed, and Gwent ; in Macsen Wledig they relate to Gwynedd, in Lludd and Llevelys to Gwynedd, in Kulhwch and Olwen to Dyfed, Buallt, Ewyas, Erging, and Gwent. It is impossible to enter here into an exhaustive account of these place-name explanations, but it is worthy of mention that there is a marked interest shown in some of them in the sea, the element which probably played a prominent part in the religious conceptions of the Welsh coast population. (6) Aetiological myths explanatory of Games, Proverbial expressions. Triads, &c. In the Mabinogion we have, for example, the explanation of the game 'Broch ygkot' (a badger in a bag); 'A vo penn bit pont' (let him who is a head be a bridge) ; numerous explanations of Triads and the like. In the case of traditional practices and expressions, there is always a possibility that, Hke the practices and expressions themselves, certain stories connected with them may survive. The analysis of stories of this type is often delicate and tentative enough ; but occasionally a passing reference, for example, to such a significant date for the old Celtic year as the First of May (Calan mai) may give a clue to the earher milieu in which the story was evolved. In the account of Teyrnon Twryf Vliant's mare, and of the feud between Gwythur and Gwyn fab Nudd for Creurdilad, the reference to the first of May is perhaps an ancient feature. 2. Certain of the ideas embodied in the Mabinogion and closely connected with religious and kindred conceptions. The chief of these conceptions is that of Annwfn, the Welsh other-world. This is first mentioned in connexion with Arawn, one of its kings, whose home is said to have been there situated. It is clear from the picture of Annwfn here given, that it was regarded as a kind of counterpart of this world, containing, like this world, countries and kingdoms. For example it contains, besides Arawn, another king Havgan, with whom Arawn is at war. It is clear, too, that the inhabitants of the lower world were thought to have access to this world, and to be engaged 4. Celtic Religion in the Mahinogion: Anwyl 239 in similar pursuits, such as fighting and hunting. In the story of Pwyll the dogs that are mentioned as belonging to Arawn are probably those still known in Welsh folk-lore as Own Annwfn. In this story Annwfn is regarded as more advanced in civihzation than the upper world, inasmuch as it is from Annwfn that certain of the boons of civilization, such as swine, are said to have come. It is interesting to note the prominence given in this narrative to swine, a trait which suggests that at an older stage Welsh folk-lore was greatly preoccupied with them. We know that among the Celts there was a god Moccus (Welsh Moch), and we know too that the men of Pessinus did not eat swine. It cannot be said, however, that in the inscriptional allusions to Celtic reUgion the pig holds a prominent place. Yet it is not impossible that, in these references to swine in the Mabinogi and to Arthur's hunting of the Boar Trwyth in Kulhwch and Olwen, we touch a very ancient stratum of folk-lore. Again, we find closely associated with Annwfn the ideas of change of form and magic. Probably Celtic religion regarded the denizens of its other-world as possessing powers much greater than those of the men of the world above, though these powers may not have been regarded as greater physically. Thus the conception of Annwfn appears to be related to the conception, so prevalent in Celtic countries and elsewhere, of local Sai/Aoi/ta, whether viewed singly or in groups, who had the power of infiuencing the life of the world above. That Annwfn played an important part in Welsh mediaeval folk-lore we clearly see from the allusions to it in the poetry of Dafydd ab Gwilym (fourteenth century), who even alludes to the summer ' as going to Annwfn to rest for the winter '. The allusions to Annwfn in Welsh mediaeval poetry and in Dafydd ab Gwilym are of importance, as showing how living the idea of it was in the folk-lore of the time. Another point that comes to view in the folk-lore of the Mabinogion is that the older conception of Annwfn appears to have been been, not that of one homogeneous other-world, but rather that of a number of local other-lands, not necessarily all related to the upper world in the same way. Caer Aranrot, for example, appears to have been regarded as an island, and certainly in the Book of Tahessin some expeditions to Annwfn are regarded as having been made in ships, as for example, in Prydwen, the ship of Arthur. In the Book of Tahessin Annwfn is expressly stated to have been ' beneath the world ' (is eluyd) ; but other allusions suggest a view of it as being on the same plane as the countries of the upper world, and accessible not simply by sea, but by land. In the story of Kulhwch and Olwen, Arthur is represented as going thither by an expedition to the North. All these considerations lead to the beUef that the primitive conceptions of the Celts implied a number of other-lands varying in character 240 ni. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs and situation and not simply an other-world. This earlier con- ception is in some respects not unlike that of the fairy lands of Welsh folk-lore of modem times. In the story of Math ab Mathonwy it is not improbable that Math himself and Gwydion were originally on the same plane as Arawn rather than on that of Pwyll and Pryderi, and were, in the original story, represented as dwellers in a local Annwfn rather than as inhabitants of the upper world. Their close association with magic and with such a spot as Caer Aranrot suggests that their narrative was originally of this kind. The story of Ysbaddaden Bencawr also suggests that it had a similar origin, and it may well be considered whether some of the magical sections of the Arthurian legend itself may not have had similar sources. Another type of story which seems to have aflfinities with early folk- lore in the matter of Annwfn is that of Rhiannon. There are certain features connected with this story, which suggest that it contains matter of a very ancient kind. For example, the association of Rhiannon as a rider with a horse, and the further association of her son Gwri Wallt Euryn with horses, raise the question whether Rhiannon herself may not once have been a kind of deity like Epona, a goddess in the form of a mare. The allusion also to the mare of Teyrnon, which foaled every year on the first of May (the beginning of the second half of the Celtic year), suggests forcibly the idea that there may at one time have been an attempt to explain the growth of summer by the rebirth, from a divine mare, of the spirit of vegetation in the form of a foal. The great Earth-Mother may weU have been herself represented as a mare, since it does not in the least follow that she, while regarded as a mother, would be represented in human form. The year's period of gestation of a mare would also help this conception. In the older conception Gwri Wallt Euryn may not have been regarded as human at all, but simply as a foal. That similar stories were found in Wales is suggested by the local story of Castellmarch in Lleyn, where the original owner March is said to have had horse's ears. In view of the fact that Rhiannon's father's name was Heveyd, it is not impossible that one form of her story came from the Radnorshire (Builth) zone, the name of Radnorshire in Welsh being Maesyfed, that is 'Maes Hyfeidd ', the plain of Hyfeidd. In one of the poems of the Myvyrian Archaeology, Elfael in Radnorshire is called ' Bro Hyfeidd ', ' the land of Hyfeidd.' The search for local other-lands in the Mabinogion may thus be very fruitful for the student of Celtic reUgion, and the same method may with advantage be pursued in the study of Irish legend, and even in that of Arthur himself. 3. The existence among the heroes and heroines of names which are undoubtedly survivals of divine names from the pre-Christian period. The most obvious of these names are those ending in -on. This 4. Celtic Religion in the Mabinogion: Anwyl 241 ending in the older form was -ones for gods, -6na for goddesses. Among the most authentic names of Celtic deities there are several instances of this type, as, for example, Maponos, Ep6na, Sirona, DSmona. In the Mabinogion we find several examples of names of this formation, such as Mabon (Ma,p6nos), Modron (Matrona), Rhiannon (Rigantona), Teymon (Tigemonos), Amaethon (Ambactonos), Gofannon (Goban- nonos), Gwydion (V^tionos). To this type possibly belong also the curious forms Blathaon, Afaon, Amathaon, Pfaraon, where it is probable that a ' g ' has vanished between the ' a ' and the ' o '. A name Uke Geirion (unless it be Garianus) might also be referred to this type. To this type may also possibly be referred such a name as Dreon Lew (Ox. Mab. 302, 19), Eidon Vaur Vrydic (107, 29), Gamon (109, 3), Gwryon the father of Hunabwy (110, 8), Banon, given also as Panon, (108, 3, 138, 22). The river name Gwrangon, found in the Welsh name of Caer Wrangon, Worcester, is also probably of this type. The root here is probably ' Gwrang ' (youth). The name Cynon is imdoubtedly of this type, too, and also Godybrion or Gotyrron in the name Gwynn godybrion (Gwynn beneath the water). The place of dogs in the ancient Celtic rehgion is well worthy of separate investigation. It is probably to this type, too, that we are to refer the nameSaran- hon (107, 25), and with this name we may compare the river name Taranhon (the Thvmderer), a river in Montgomeryshire. Another type of name that is of a rehgious significance, is that which corresponds clearly to a name prominent in Irish legend, for example, Llyr to Irish Ler, Bran to Irish Bran, Manawyddan to Irish Manannan, Nudd to Irish Nuada, Lieu to Irish Lug (with a difference of vowel gradation), EllyU to Irish AihU. In the case of Nudd we know the proto-Celtic form Nodens, or Nodons, from an inscription at Lydney, while the corresponding form Lludd probably goes back to Lodens or Lodons. Nudd may have meant ' mist ', since the derivative ' nudden ' is still used for ' mist ' in some of the dialects of South Wales. The name Llyr is undoubtedly that of a sea-god, hke Neifion (the swimmer), a name, however, which does not occur in the Mabinogion. A name like Bran (raven) suggests the survival of animal deities in the form of birds, as well as of other animals. There may be also a hint of such a survival in the terms Adar Rhiannon (the birds of Rhiannon), while the fabiilous creatures whose names had become proverbial, such as Carw Rhedynfre, Cuan Cwm Cawlwyt, y Twrch Trwyth (or Trwyd in pure Brythonic), Mwyalch Cilgwri, Eog Llyn LHw, Eryr Gwemabwy, and Gast Rymi, may have been originally worshipped. Proverbial names such as these may well be very ancient. With the fabulous birds of Rhiannon may be compared the fabulous birds of Gwendolen, mentioned in the Triads (Ox. Mab. 303, 24). Possibly Gwalchmei (the Hawk of May) andGwalchhaued (the Hawk of Summer) 242 VII. Beligions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs are names of this type. There may be also some suggestion of a similar Mnd in the name Gwrgi (Man-dog), such as Gwrgi Garwlwyt, Gwrgi Gwastra, and Gwrgi Seueri. The fabulous monster, Oath Paluc, and the others that Arthur is represented as hunting, may well have been at one time revered deities in certain locaUties. The same is also possible in the case of the fabulous stag mentioned in Peredur (245-6), though here the romance narrative is too remote from any definite local folk- lore to make it possible to attach to it any.clear mythological significance. In the Mabinogion there are no names of the same type as Arthen (ArtogSnos), which might be due to this order of ideas, but in Welsh place-names several names of this type are to be found. The proper names of the Mabinogion fall into various types, but an analysis of them in respect to formation and structure falls beyond the scope of the present work. At the same time, attention may be called to the type of name like Pryderi, Blodeuwedd, which had a distinct significance at the time when they were given. 4. The survival of reflections of the grouping of deities on the basis of a matriarchal rather than of a patriarchal family. In the Four Branches of the Mabinogi the most conspicuous instance of this is the Don family, which contains certain names that have an undoubtedly religious significance, such as Amaethon (Ambactonos) and Gofannon (Gobannonos). Another instance of the same type is Modron, the mother of Mabon (Maponos). We find the same phenomenon in Irish legend as, for instance, in the case of Conchobar mac Nessa. The name Modron (i.e. Matrona) is clearly of a religious significance, and has a link of connexion with Gaul, since it is the origin of the river-name Mame. This vein seems to be distinctly fruitful for the study of the earlier groupings of Celtic religion. 5. The conception of man's relation, whether active or passive, in relation to the future. As passive he receives omens (coelion), some of which come to him accidentally, while others come by dehberate search. In the latter category were those obtained through fire, and the Welsh name for a ' bonfire ' is still ' coel certh ' (a sure omen). The idea of omens appears but to a shght degree in the Mabinogion, though we know from the Black Book of Carmarthen that it was prevalent in mediaeval Wales, and that omens were derived, for example, from sneezing. In the Mabinogion, however, there comes to view a conception which is more important from a religious point of view than this, namely, the idea that one person could influence the destiny of another by the process called 'tyngu tynghed ' (the swearing of a destiny). Evidently we have here a kind of verbal sympathetic magic, which probably belongs to an ancient cycle of ideas, of which the Mabinogion preserve in their present form only a few passing traces. 4. Celtic Religion in the Mahinogion: Anwyl 243 6. In close conjunction with the latter conception — that of 'gOidonot' (witches). The precise significance of this name is uncertain; but it seems to suggest from the narrative that they were belligerent women, whose weapons were not merely magical. The stories concern- ing them are more interesting sociologically than religiously in the Mabinogion ; but they are indirectly valuable for the latter purpose, since they suggest the possibility of survival in legend of reflections of older sociological conditions. Of the same type are the allusions found in fairy-tales to the fairy dislike of iron. It is a very delicate task to trace out with certainty these sociological survivals; but all folk-lore contains them, and it is because they consist so largely of local folk-lore that this aspect of the Mabinogion is one that has to be continually kept in view. It is remarkable that the allusions to struggles with witches should appear above all in the Arthurian legend, both in the Black Book of Carmarthen and in the Mabinogion, while in the Four Branches they are not to be found. 7. The conception of magic. In deaMng with this aspect of the Mabinogion it is necessary to distinguish between magic as the favourite machinery of popular mediaeval narrative, and magic as a real behef that had a religious bearing. In the former sense it is much more characteristic of the purely Welsh tales thanof the Chretien romances. In Dyfed the great magician is Llwyd fab CUcoed (the Irish Liath mac Celtchair), while in Gwynedd it is Math ab Mathonwy and Gwydion who are the chief characters of this type. From the fact that in Irish, as well as in Welsh, Liath mac Celtchair was famous as a magician, it is impossible not to believe that here we have a survival from an early Celtic period of a behef in beings with superhuman magical powers. Moreover, there appears to have been a similar belief as to the existence of races of superhuman acuteness, for example, the Coranyeit (possibly =the pigmies) who are mentioned in Uudd and Llevelys. The char- acteristics of these and that of Math ab Mathonwy are so much alike, and the topographical allusions in the stories are so clearly akin, that it is not unnatural to regard them as belonging to the same zone of ideas, and we know from the proper names of the Don-series that they are in several cases religious in their connexions. From these and similar data we may gather that Celtic reUgion held the behef not only in individual beings of superior powers, but also in tribes and other social groups of this kind. It was probably with tribes of this kind that the Celtic other-lands were peopled, and there is no suggestion in the Mabinogion that the inhabitants of these other-lands had any- thing necessarily to do with the spirits of the dead. In the case of Llew Llaw Gyffes the spirit of Llew takes the form of an eagle, and it is not at all improbable that the conception of a spirit as obtaining a winged form, whether during life or death, was fairly common. e2 244 ril. Beligions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs Such are some of the considerations which appear to the present ^^^^ in regard to the Mabinogion, when criticaUy studied as a valuable document for the study of Celtic rehgion; though, as akeady statea, the number of modifications and recensions which the stories Have undergone make it necessary to use them for this purpose witH tne utmost care. OLD RUSSIAN PAGAN CULTS By E. ANITCHKOFF The principal data or sources of the ancient Slavonic religion may be divided into three groups. In the first are popular customs, rites, and rituals, as described by modem students of folHore, or found in old books and other documents which, for various reasons, treated of such matters. In the second are popular tales and stories ; these give us information on such supernatural beings as lechyi, vodiancfl, domovofi, russalki, &c., who correspond to the ancient dryads, naiads, penates, and so on. In the third are old chronicles and records of undoubted authenticity, which acquaint us with the gods. A peculiarity of our data for the subject of Slavonic paganism is that we have no works of art or fiction, and no poems which paint for us our ancient gods, or relate of their doings. We possess only one poem of the eleventh century, the well-known Slovo o Polkou Igorevi, that directly mentions three or four gods. We shall further ask to what class of people its author belonged, and for what purpose he, being already a Christian, came to speak of pagan gods. To the three above-mentioned groups of our sources I have to add only the sermons and other polemical works whose object it was to stifle paganism and its survivals. The old Russian literature is rich in such works, there being a succession of them from the twelfth century tiU the time of Peter the Great. I shaU have an opportunity of speaking of these works, but, for the moment, let us take into consideration the three first groups only. The usual method in mythological studies has been to embrace all these groups of data at once in an endeavour to reconstruct the ancient religion in its entirety. This strikes me as one of the greatest failures of the scientific method in the study of paganism. It seems to me that each group of data should be, to begin with, the object of a separate study. We have to deal not only with distinct groups of sources, but also with different groups of facts, and these facts are, if I may say so, heterogeneous. For instance, in popular tales the russalka is 5, Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkoff 245 a beautiful woman who lives in the rivers and lakes, but in popular customs a russalka means a hobby-horse.^ This radical distinction between the russalka of the tales and that of the customs shows how very careful one must be in dealing with the groups of our sources. This divergence is easily explained. The popular tales, scattered among the people until our own day, have been for very many years verbally narrated by a special kind of popular fable-tellers, the so- called skomorokhi.^ These have been influenced by the tales of neighbouring nations, and even by literary traditions. When we meet, in a Slavonic tale, with a russalka depicted as a beautiful woman, we may ask ourselves if this figure is not simply a stray reminiscence of the ancient Greek or Roman mythology. An isolated fact taken from a tale must be studied with the same method that is generally appUed in folklore to plots of tales : representations found in folk tales may be matters of fiction, and not of popular belief. Much attention has been paid in the last few years to the study of popular rites and customs. On this part of mythological studies Professor Frazer's Golden Bough has thrown much new light ; in my book on Spring Songs and Customs^ I worked in the same field. It is, I think, sufficiently proved now that the popular rites and customs of all nations are based on a kind of magic that may be considered as a certain stage of civilization, through which humanity has passed ; just as much as the 'Naturalwirthschaft' and the 'village community', with which this early agricultural rehgion of magic is so closely con- nected. The study of these rituals brought about the discovery of widely spread customs among Indo-European nations, such as fetishism, animism, cults of trees, water, fire, of ancestors and penates, all of which have been long ago noted as phases in the evolution of the rehgious conscience in primordial man. From the knowledge of rites and customs is derived the strict dis- tinction between poetical receptivity and rehgious conscience. The words of the gospel that 'faith without deeds is dead', have a methodo- logical significance for the student of religion. Religious faith in- fallibly transmutes itself into acts, and therefore the study of religious performances and rites is fundamentally important. Only that which transmutes itself into performances and acts is indubitably rehgious ; and consequently towards those representations which are attested * See A. N. Minkh, Popular Customs, Riles, and Superstitions of the Peasants of Saratov (in Russian). ' Ethnographical Beview (in Bussian), 1904, No. 2. ' St. Petersbvirg, 1904 and 1905, 2 vols., pubUslied by the Academy of Science in St. Petersburg ; see Dr. Ludwig Deubner's report in the Archiv fur Rdigions- wissenschaft, ix, pp. 277-304. 246 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs as having lived only in the imagination of nations, the historian of religion must be sceptical. For instance, the danuyocn is the same in popular tales as in popular rites. In both we see a belief in a super- natural being, who takes care of the cattle and of the household in general. When a new house is built, or a new animal brought into the stable, a special rite is performed to make sure whether the domovoi approves of the proceeding or not. It is the rite which proves the existence of the belief in the domovcn, and not the tale. There are but two families of ancient Slavonic gods that we know ; the gods of the Baltic Slaves with Sventovit at their head, and the Russian gods of whom Peroun and Volos seem to be the most im- portant. The most authentic documents referring to eastern Slavonic gods are pacts concluded with Byzantium. The Variago-Russ (pSs) led by their princes attacked Byzantium several times. In the years 907, 945, and 971 treaties of peace were concluded between the emperors of Constantinople and the princes Oleg, Igor, and Sviatoslav.^ These pacts were enforced by solenm, inviolable oaths from both sides. Our text gives us a full description of the whole ceremony. The Variago-Russ proffered oaths on their weapons and on gold, in the same fashion as their Scandinavian kinsfolk.^ This was probably the usual and proper way, but as there were also Christians on both sides, an oath in the name of the Christian Gtod was added. As an equivalent to the Christian God, the pagans had to swear in the name of their most respected divinities, Peroun and Volos. We read in the act of 907 : ' The Tzars, Leon and Alexander, concluded peace with Oleg to whom they paid a tribute, and they swore peace with each other • the Greek emperors kissed the cross, and Oleg brought his men to swear peace in the Russian custom on their weapons and in the name of Peroun their god and Volos the Beast-god, and after this fashion was the peace confirmed.' * In 945 a new treaty was made between the prince Igor and Byzantium. It was signed in Byzantium, not by the prince himself, but by his ambassadors, who both signed and proffered oaths— those who were Christians in the Church of St. Ehas which the Variags possessed ■ The texts of these pacts first appear in the Chronicles (Lietopis) about the year 1116, when the Abbot Silvester compiled the Annals of Bygone Days (Poviesti vremennykh Met). See Shakhmatov, The Oldest Gompilation of Annals m Kiev, Moscow, 1897, p. 47 (in Russian). ' See St. Rojniecki, 'Perun und Thor,' Arch. f. slavische PMlologie, xxiii, and Tiander in the Beport of the Bussian DepaHment of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, vii (1902), book iii. ' Annals of Bygone Days under the year 907 ; see the text of L. S. Leibotovitch, ovodnaia Lietopis, p. 29. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkqff 247 in Byzantium, and those who were pagans in the name of Peroun, as was usual. The pact ended with these words : ' He who forgoes his oath shall be cursed by God and Peroun.' This finished, they returned to Kiev -^th the Greek ambassadors, and there Igor had to take the oath. The scene of this oath, sworn by Prince Igor himself in Kiev, is of capital importance and all the details valuable : ' In the morning did Igor summon the ambassadors to the hill whereon stood Peroun. Igor and those of his men who were pagans put down their weapons, shields, and some gold ; and he took the Russians who were CJhristians to the church of St. EHas.' ^ The third pact in 971 was concluded in Bulgaria, between Byzantium and Prince Sviatoslav. It ends with the words : ' We take this oath in the name of Grod, in whom we believe, and of Peroun, and of Volos the Beast-god.'^ The mythologist who seeks to discover what force of nature is personified in the gods Peroun and Volos, can draw but sUght informa- tion from the texts of these three pacts. The only fact in favour of the supposition that Peroim was the god of thunder, is that the oath was given by the Christians in the church of St. EUas^; this saint is indubitably in Christian mythology a dispenser of thunder, and it is characteristic that he had been chosen as a counterpart of Peroun. But if we take our standpoint, not in mythology, but in the study of the cult, the above-quoted pacts will be valuable to us in another sense. We must first note that Prince Igor, in his own town of Kiev, with his own warriors, took the oath in the name of Peroun only; whereas, in the oaths of Sviatoslav and Oleg, the god Volos is also mentioned. Why should this be so ? There is perhaps an explanation for this in the fact that Oleg not only led against Byzantium the prince's warriors, but further ' took with him a multitude of Variags, Slovenes, Tchudes, Krivichi, Meria, DrevUani, Rodimichi, PoHani, Severi, Viatichi, Douhebi, and Tiverchi.'* This means that he went to war with an immense horde gathered from various Slavonic or even Finnish races. Moreover in the pacts of Sviatoslav we find the words 'all the Russ take oath '.* We may thus conclude that, having to deal with Sviatoslav and Oleg, the Greeks would not be confident in an oath in the name of Peroun alone, but claimed some other responsible divinity. Now who is this Volos or Veles ? He is generally spoken of as a god of cattle, which seems a simple deduction from his nickname ' Beast-god '. In passing, I shall only add that the denomination of * Ibid., pp. 46-7. = Ibid., p. 64. ' L. Leger, La Myfhologie slave, Paris, 1901, pp. 66 sq. * liebotovitch, 1. c, d. 26. " Ibid., p. 64. 248 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs ' Beast-god ' gives us a right to suppose that the idol of Voles had the shape of a beast. What is more important is the topographical situation of his cult in Kiev. We shall see that St. Vladimir, ten years before he became a Christian, built a pantheon of idols close to his palace, among which Volos is not even mentioned. We know, however, that an idol of him stood in Kievi; for in the lAfe of St. Vladimir the author, when telling us about the destruction of the idols, says that Volos had been thrown into an arm of the river Dnieper, the Potchai. This is generally considered to prove that the idol of Volos did not stand on the mountain, where was the dwelling of the princes and of their warriors, but below, in a suburb called PodoP, a part of Kiev where the citizens lived in time of peace. Moreover, we find Volos mentioned in another part of Russia. In the Life of St. Abraham it is said that this Saint destroyed the idol of Volos in the town of Rostov.' !Prom the same lAfe we learn that the idol stood in the part of the town called 'Tchudskoi Krai', which means the part where lived the Tchudes. There is another difference also between Peroun and Volos. The idols of Peroun were wooden. We cannot doubt it, since it is clearly stated in the chronicles ; moreover, in both the passages that relate to the destruction of Peroun's idol, it is said to have floated in the river into which it was cast : whereas the idol of Volos, destroyed by Abraham, was made of stone.* These reflections on the cult of Volos aUow one to put forward the hypothesis that the Slavonic divinities, far from belonging to aU the Slavonic races, were not even the divinities of one single Slavonic race : they merely belonged to some part of the population. The cult of Volos seems to be a kind of merchant cult, something like the Mercurius-Rosmerta cult of central Europe. Professor KlioutchevsM considers that ' Beast-god ' means god of wealth, since in the chronicles the word cattle also means money .^ Such a supposition explains why we find idols of him mentioned in suburbs and not in the burghs; taking the word burgh in its old signification of a fortified enclosure where, in time of war, the population found security from their enemies. It explains also why the Greeks insisted, every time that they had transactions, not only with the prince and his warriors, but with the Russ, that oaths should be taken in the name of Volos. Professor Khou- tchevski thinks that in those days the Russ (p5s) meant the merchants ' See the texts published by Professor A. Sobolevski in the Readings of the Society of Nestor, vol ii (the so-called ordinary Vita). " Description of Kiev by N. Zaorevski, Moscow, 1868. ' Monvments of old Russian Literature, i, pp. 221-2. * Professor Ainalov, 'Statues of Old Russian Gods,' in The Account of the University of St. Petersburg for the Year 1904, p. 16. " Professor Khoutchevski, Russian History, Moscow, 1906, ii, p. 137. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults : Anitchkoff 249 from big towns who, together with the prince's warriors, carried on trade with Byzantium.'^ The supposition that the cults of Slavonic gods were cults of small locaUties and had a certain social significance appears stiU more evident from the study of Peroun. We have already seen that the prince and his warriors took oaths in the name of Peroim. His idol stood on some hill near the dweUing of the prince. We can determine the spot more precisely, since it is indicated in the history of the beginning of St. Vladimir's reign, as given in the so-called ' First Compilation^ ' of our annals. ' And now began indeed Vladimir to reign in Kiev, and he put on a hill, outside his palace yard, the wooden Peroun, with the silver head and golden moustaches, and ILhors and Dajbog and Stribog and Semargl and Mokosh. And the people brought them sacrifices and called them gods, and took to them their sons and daughters, who also brought sacrifices and profaned the earth with the cidt of them ; and the soil of Russ and of this hUl was besmeared with blood.' * It is a (Christian who wrote these lines , a Christian who Hved a hundred years after the event he teUs us of. His disapproval of the bloody immolations is natural. Prince Vladimir was canonized soon after his death, and the Russian Church tiU the present day reveres him deeply. The above-quoted passage of the chronicle is out of harmony with the conventional representation of St. Vladimir. Neither the earliest lives of him, nor yet the apologiae, mention the fact of his having built a heathen pantheon.* The orthodox scholars, of the same frame of mind as the authors of the Lives, also try to weaken the importance of this objectionable pantheon. But the interest St. Vladimir took in the paganism of his fathers cannot easily be denied. Immediately after having erected new idols of Peroun and other gods, he sent his uncle Dobrynia to Novgorod, and, as says the chronicle : ' Then came Dobrynia to Novgorod and put an idol of Peroun on the '■ Ibid., p. 197. ^ Natchalnyi Svod. This compilation was made in Kiev at the end of the eleventh century. See Shakhmatof in the Records of the Department of Russian Language and Literature of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, xiii, 1 (1908), pp. 238-9. That the 'First Compilation ' contained the description of the begin- ning of St. Vladimir's reign, according to the critical analysis of M. Shakhmatof, is proved by the fact that the passages I refer to are to be found in the so-called First Novgorodian Annals. ' See the Annals under the year 980 : translated from the text of Leiboto- vitch, 1. c, p. 71, and compared with corresponding passages of the First Nov- gorodian Annals, published later than the texts of Leibotovitch. See the edition of the Archaeological Commission. ' See the texts published by Professor Sobolevski, Nos. 1 and 2. 250 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs Volkhov, and the people of Novgorod brought it sacrifices as though to God.' 1 The easiest way to undermine the significance of both these quota- tions is to say that Vladimir simply restored ancient idols to their former places ; this is the opinion of Professor Goloubinski, author of the best history of the Russian Church.^ Basing his position on the passage of the chronicle where Prince Igor is seen to swear fidelity to the Greeks on the idol of Peroun, Professor Goloubinski says : ' we positively know ' that the idol of Peroun already stood there. And when he mentions the fact that Dobrynia erected an idol in Novgorod, he argues that the Novgorodians were heathens and also already possessed idols of Peroun. The only interesting information Professor Golou- binski sees in the above-quoted passages is that every Russian prince, at the beginning of his reign, was in the habit of rebuilding old pagan sanctuaries ; which seems the more probable as these sanc- tuaries were wooden. Our great historian Soloviev explains these two passages in a very different way. He sees in the youthful Vladimir a convinced restorer of the ancient paganism, which was already shattered and giving place to Christianity ; Vladimir, however, murdered his brother laropolk with the aid of the pagan party, and, under the influence of this party, became a restorer of the ancient creed.* The whole matter may assume a different aspect if we examine attentively one small detail of the text we are debating. It is said that Vladimir put aU his idols outside his palace courtyard ; and this is a valuable topographical indication. In studying ancient cults from Christian sources, all such indications are particularly precious, the more so when they are exact and well defined. Of ancient paganism none but topographical reminiscences survive ; since the hundred years after the Russians had embraced the Christian religion saw crosses, chapels, and even churches placed where formerly idols had stood. The rhetorical introduction to the ' First Compila- tion ' of Russian annals, written in about the year 1093, says em- phatically : ' Where the ancients brought sacrifices to the pagan demons on the mountains, there stand now holy churches of stone with golden summits, and great cloisters.' * The old chronicler states with special interest that, on the spot where Peroun once stood, a church in honour of St. Basile had been built ; so that he is fully informed. ' Leibotovitoh, I. c, and the First Novgorodian Annals under the same year. ' The History of the Russian Church : Goloubinski, Moscow, 1901 (in Bussian), vol. i, p. 150. ' Ibid., p. 148. ' See the text published by M. Shakhmatof in the Records of the Departm&rU of Russian Language and Literature of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, xiii. 1, p. 264. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkoff 251 In such a case we have every right to suppose that the cult in question was founded on a local tradition, and that there existed material tokens of it such as, for instance, a building, hill, spring, forest, &c. Therefore, in investigating the ancient cxilt of Peroun, we must minutely examine all the topographical indications of the chronicle. In this case the words ' outside his palace courtyard ' are important, and have been inserted pertinently. Now the prince's yard caUed ' Teremnoi dvor ' is evidently the Curtis dominicalis or the Frohnhof of the Riourikovitchi, and was of great importance for the author of the chronicle. He mentions it with especial care. Once, in alluding to it, he says : ' this terem, that I have already mentioned.' ^ From another passage we know that this castle was of stone, a rare thing for that epoch. Thus the curtis dominicalis of Vladimir was a castle {castellum), and although it no longer existed at the end of the eleventh century, the chronicler knew well where it had stood; for he says that it was near a certain church. This castle was the dweUing of whole generations of Riourikovitchi from the times of Igor to laroslav I. In this castle had lived the celebrated St. Olga, widow of the prince Igor ; here she horribly massacred the ambassadors of the Drevliani ; in this castle, again, St. Vladimir slaughtered his brother laropolk.^ It stood outside the walls of the burgh of Kiev; for the princes pos- sessed their own separate castle outside the burgh where they resided in times of peace with the citizens of Kiev, while their other dwelling inside the burgh is called by the chronicler ' Kniajdvor ' (court of the princes). Dark sayings were most likely whispered about this castle ; it was the place where the Riourikovitchi, with the aid of their men, committed fierce mmrder. The appearance of the building, with its stone walls, both attracted and repelled : and especially must this have been so in the days when lived the chronicler, as its ruins were still visible ; if, therefore, he informs us that the idol of Peroun stood outside the ramparts of this celebrated castle, he by no means says it lightly. And as he does not mention this fact when he speaks of Prince Igor, we may rightly suppose that the idol was then, not outside the castle, but in it. Let us now combine the fact that the Riourikovitchi swore peace to the Greeks on the idol of Peroun with the supposition that this idol stood in the very castle or curtis dominicalis of the princes. The curtis dominicalis of a prince, a Kogan, a Konig, or any pre-feudal lord, has both a political and economic importance. The warriors, drougina — which means comitatus or maisnie, or in O.E. hadelinge — of a pre-feudal lord received their food at their master's ' See Annals, year 980 (Leibotovitch, I.e., p. 69). '' See Annals, years 945 and 980 (Leibotovitch, I.e., pp. 48, 49 and 69). 252 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs table. Let us remember the famous scene in Beowulf, where Khrodgar gives a banquet in the beautiful haU he had built. Brunner calls Beowulf's poem ' eine Hauptquelle fiir das richtige Verstandnis des Gefolgswesens,' and he says: 'Das Merkmal der Gefolgschaft bildet die Aufnahme des Gefolgsmannes in (lie Hausgenossenschaft des Gefolgsherm. Die Gefolgsleute speisen und zechen und schlafen in der Halle ihres Herrn.' ^ The habits and customs of the Riourikovitchi were certainly very like those of the northern Germans. Our chronicle speaks about the prodigality of Vladimir towards his officers and warriors,^ and the folk-poems have made him into a kind of King Arthur with his Knights of the Round Table. St. Vladimir is called the 'gracious prince Vladimir, beautiful as the sun '. In pagan times a feast is already a kind of sacred act and very often a sacrifice : those who eat together are already, to a certain degree, of the same creed. May we not, after all that has been said, safely suppose that Peroun was the god of the Riourikovitchi and of their warriors, their hadelinge, and was most certainly a military god ? This supposition will be made still more plausible if we add that there is no certain indication of the existence of Peroun's cult outside Kiev, except in Novgorod, which belonged to the same Riourikovitchi, and where, as we know, Dobrynia introduced the cult of Peroun by order of Vladimir, and consequently at a rather late date. These considerations on the cult of Peroun are strengthened by our knowledge of the Baltic Slavonic cult. We know much more about the gods of the Baltic Slaves than about those of Russia. Baltic gods are of a very definite and military character. As Adam of Bremen, Tietmar, and Saxogramaticus describe them, their temples stood in the midst of fortresses ; they had a special armour, and (e.g. the god Sventovit of Arcona) horses of war ; part of the plunder of war was given to them, and their banners were carried on the battlefield.* The cults of the Baltic gods lasted for almost one century and a half longer than those of the Russian gods. This is perhaps the reason why their cults are more elaborate, their idols more complicated, and more artistically fashioned, and their temples of a beautiful architecture. But still it is easy to trace a great resemblance between them and Peroun. They were made of wood Uke Peroun; even the face seemed to be more or less in the same style : Sventovit had but a very short-cut beard, Peroun had no beard at all, as only his moustaches are men- tioned. Moreover, the Baltic gods also stood under the open sky, ' H. Brunner, Deutsche Rechtsgeschickte, Leipzig, 1887, vol. i, p. 137. ' Annals, year 996 (Leibotovitch, I. c, pp. 99-100). ' See L. L6ger, I. c, pp. 11-31, 76-106, 136, &c. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkqff 253 and this was probably a strictly observed rule : there was a sheltered corridor surrounding the idol, and had a roof over the idol been allowed by tradition, it could easily have been made. All these considerations lead us to think of Peroun as a god whose cult is very like that described in Saxogramaticus. If so, it is all the more probable that Peroun's idol stood inside the curtis dominicalis of the Riourikovitchi and their warriors. When we read in the chronicle that Igor went to a hill where stood Peroun, we may take it for granted that this Peroun stood inside the castle yard. It is clear now that Vladimir, for some reason or other, thought it necessary to move the idol to a new place. He placed it outside the castle's rampart, and at the same time, as has been said, he sent Dobrynia to Novgorod and bade him put an idol of Peroun on the banks of the Volkhov. These two facts, put together, enable us to advance a step further in our study. Vladimir seemed to wish, by these two acts, to expand the cult of Peroun ; he imposed this cult upon his people. It would be premature to speak of the institution of a new religion in the days of Vladimir. This prince's power was still extremely vague. Although he was called the Great Prince, only Kiev and Nov- gorod were actually under his rule ; since some fifty miles from Kiev lived different hordes such as the Petchenegi, the Polovtzi, the Tchernyi, Klobouki, and independent Slavonic races. Vladimir strove ener- getically to form a government, but it is only his son laroslav who can be considered as the real founder of the Russian state in its most rudimentalform. Nevertheless, the idea of making his subjects, or all those he endeavoured to make his subjects, worship the same god as he and his droiigina is a political idea which Vladimir was likely to have had. ' The purely military force of the princes and their drougina,^ says Prof. Khoutchevski, 'gradually develops into a political power.' ^ The pohtical scheme of Vladimir, when he tried to impose the worship of Peroun on the Russ, wiU be clearer if we glance at the relations then existing between the Russ and Byzantium. They stood as follows. The great rivers of Russia formed an easy commercial road, along which the Variags went to Greece, dealing in wax, honey, furs, slaves, &c. The princes were at the head of these expeditions and their chief destination was Byzantium.^ There the Russ had probably already in the ninth century some dweUings belonging to them.* Yet although they carried on a regular trade, these expeditions of the Russ to Byzantium were, to a great extent, military enterprises. On their light canoes, made from trunks of trees, the Russians had to pass the cataracts of the Dnieper, where their enemies, the Petchenegi, lay awaiting them. The pohtical importance of the Russian princes * Russian History, i, p. 174. ' Ibid., i, p. 170. ' Ibid., i, p. 169. 254 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs lay in the fact that the towns where the goods were unladed belonged to them, as also did the military escorts of the caravans.^ The cam- paigns of the Russians to Byzantium in the tenth century, already mentioned when speaking of the pacts of peace, were, says Professor KlioutcheTski,^ caused in the main by the eagerness of the Russians to maintain or to reopen their interrupted commercial dealings with Byzantium. This explains why they generally ended in commercial pacts. In Byzantium the Russian guests were not always welcome. We know from trustworthy Greek sources that, in two cases, the motif of the Russian campaigns was the slaughter, in Greece, of Russian merchants.^ Byzantium certainly dreaded the annual return of the armed barbarians, who dechned to obey any laws, and maintained in Byzantium their own bloody code. The Greeks sought evidently to gain some hold upon them either by means of the civilizing Christian rehgion or by the Roman code, They endeavoured to convert their enemies, and to make them accept Greek priests, who should be agents, in Russia, of the Greek empire. To gain this end the Greeks willingly expended great sums. Porphyrogenet says in his Basilios Mahedo : ' The emperor, by means of generous presents in gold, silver, and silk garments, brought the warlike and impious Russ to negotiations with him, and, after having concluded peace with them, he induced them to submit to the rite of divine baptism, and succeeded in making them accept an archbishop consecrated by the patriarch Ignatius.' * When Olga, widow of the prince Igor, was baptized, she also received costly gifts from the Greek emperor.^ The Greeks pursued another aim also : the bravery of the Russians had attracted them, and they wished to organize a portion of them into a separate military body in their own service. Therefore they con- stantly tried to entice Russians into their army, and on every possible occasion they entreated the Russian princes to send them regiments. So, after Olga had become a Christian, the emperor reproached her for not having sent him gifts and soldiers, although she had accepted presents of him.^ And when Vladimir was converted, we see in Byzantium Russian bodies of six thousand men.'' Whilst Vladimir was at enmity with the Greeks, he had every reason to gather the greatest mihtary forces he could against them, and to exalt his own ' Russian History, i, pp. 174, 175, 181-4. ' Ibid., i, p. 184. ° Ibid. This happened in 865 and in 1043. ' Quoted by Professor Goloubinski, History of the Russian Church, i, pp. 51, 52. ' See Annals, year 855, and the report Jby Porphyrogenet (quoted by Professor Goloubinski, ]. c, p. 101). " Annals. Leibotovitoh, 1. c., p. 55. ' Professor Vassilievski's Study on Variago-Russian Military Bodies in Bymn- tium. See his works published by the Academy of St. Petersburg, 1908, vol. i, pp. 196 sq. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkoff 255 pagan cult. But, after his expedition to Khorsoun, when the Greeks loaded him with gifts,^ he became their ally, married the emperor's sister, and had to submit to baptism. Christianity gave him what he had first expected from a widened cult of Peroun, I mean political importance. The doctrine of the anointment of sovereigns served his schemes of power well. There is a striking analogy between the pro- ceedings of Vladimir in 980 and in 988. In 980 he had sent Dobrynia to erect in Novgorod the idol of Peroun ; in 988 he sends lakime, a Greek priest from Khorsoun, to Novgorod again, but this time to destroy Peroun. We have now studied the cult of Peroun closely, and can trace two stages in it. Pirst, until the reign of Vladimir, Peroun is a kind of family fetish or military god, adored by a group of warriors attached to the family. Later, when this family becomes more powerful, and gains in political significance and influence, Peroun becomes a kind of head-god. This second movement in the evolution of Peroun's cult was crossed by the introduction of Christianity. If Peroun's evolution had con- tinued, he would perhaps have become rrariyp avSpwv re 6e(Sv re, and if he really was the god of thunder, as some suppose, he would have presented a striking analogy to Zeus. In his most brUUant period, when Vladimir erected in Kiev a magni- ficent idol of him, Peroun was surrounded by five other divinities : Khors, Dajbog, Stribog, Semargl, and Mokosh. We may say that we know nothing about these accessory gods.^ The only important text we have that throws some hght on the character of these gods, is the Slovo o Polkou Igorevi. This famous poetical monument of old Russian Uterature is the work of a scholar who stood in close relation to the princes and their comitatus.^ He composed a kind of poetical paper on the political conditions of Russia in his time. He introduced into his work the names of our pagan gods and, quite hke his Byzantine models, made use of rhetorical figures. The text is very intricate, and I cannot undertake to give a full inter- pretation of the parts which are pertinent to our study. But if the JSlovo is obscure when speaking of Stribog or Dajbog, it is, on the contrary, quite clear when it calls a great prince the grandson of Dajbog. As a member of the drougiTva, the author was certainly well informed about the whole generation of Riourikovitchi ; perhaps he had acquired his knowledge from poetical tradition, from songs of the military hcCiany at the prince's feasts. It is quite characteristic that he speaks of precisely those gods whom Vladimir had exposed to the ^ The oldest vita, published by Professor Sobolevski, 1. c. ' On these gods see L. Leger, Mythologie slave, pp. Ill sq., and 238-9. ' See Professor Jdanov, Works, vol. i, pp. 353-5. 256 ni. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs popular view. Volos, whom Vladimir had not included in his pan- theon, is mentioned by the Slovo only as the grandfather of popular poets and singers {halany or hmany). The author seems to consider him a peaceful god and a patron of arts. We must now pass on to a third period in the evolution of ancient pagan gods. It is a period of decay and peouHar Uterary survival. The heathen gods did not vanish in the light of Christianity. We meet them again, transformed by it, when we study the sermons and other works whose aim it was to destroy the last survivals of paganism.^ This polemical literature has its traditions and consists abnost entirely of compilations ; for our Slavonic preachers borrowed profusely from Byzantine sources or Russian annals. These writings represent our gods as demons. We see that demons figure under the names of Peroun, Dajbog, Khors, Volos, from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries. In a text. The Peregrinations of the Holy Virgin in Hell, demons are called Peroim, Volos, Khors. In another text, The Discourse of Three Saints, it is said that there are two angels of thunder : the Hellene Peroun and the Jewish Khors. In a Tcheck text of the fifteenth century the writer says : ' Let us leave these sins with Veles.' In another Tcheck text of the fourteenth century, the author exclaims : ' What demon, what Veles has set him against me ? ' A Tcheck translator (sixteenth century) of the Eccle- siastes by Jesus Sirach says : ' Go to Veles,' for ' Go to the devil.' A Russian text of the sixteenth century calls a witch by the name of the goddess Mokosh.^ A close study of demonological writings of the Middle Ages would perhaps elucidate this strange destiny of the pagan gods. It seems certain that, in the very hottest of their strife against paganism, when Christianity was introduced, the Christian preachers did not deny the existence of pagan gods, but simply opposed to them the Christian God and tried by every means to depreciate and humiUate them. Hence sprang the habit of considering these gods as demons.^ It is a curious fact that the destruction of ancient pagan idols was followed by special rites. We have seen that the gods Volos and Peroun were thrown into the Dnieper ; the Peroun of Novgorod was thrown into the Volkhov, and the Christian author of our Annals naively relates that Peroun spoke as he floated, and even quotes his words.* As the ' This literature has been studied by Mr. Azboukine Iq the Russian Philological Messenger, vols, xxviii, xxxvi, xxxvii, xxxviii, and xxxix. ' All these passages are to be found in every Slavonic mythology. See L. Ldger, passim. ' Peroun ia called a demon even in the oldest vita of St. Vladimir. See text by Sobolevski, 1. o. * See Annals, years 988 and 991. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkoff 257 spot where Peroun stood was, in the eyes of Christians, a place of abomination, it had to be purified by the performance of some rite ; and, in all countries of the world, to throw an object into water is an act of purification. The idea that pagan gods are demons was taken by the Russian learned men out of Greek literature, which was evidently their principal source of knowledge. I remember, for instance, that in one of the miracles of St. Nicolas, when he destroys the temple of Artemide, he is said to fight against the demon Artemis.^ We may, perhaps, discover the literary current through which this idea gUded into the old litera- ture. It is known that the Bulgarian Manicheism, the so-called Bogo- milism, took a great interest in the study of evil spirits. All the Cosmos seemed a struggle between the good and the evil principle, between God and Satan. A Slavene tale which throws considerable light on Bogomihsm calls the devil Dabog, which corresponds to the Russian Dajbog.^ The Discourse of Three Saints, where Peroun and Kliors are supposed to be angels of thunder, is a Bogomilic text. It is very possible that Bogomihsm diffused over all Slavonic lands the names of Slavonic gods under this new aspect, whereas in the times of heathendom these gods were only known among a few definite tribes. Therefore, if, as we have seen, the Tcheck or other Eastern Slavonic writers know the names of Russian gods, it does not by any means imply, as has been beheved, that these gods are pan-Slavonic. Simi- larly, if a Novgorodian writer knows the name of the Baltic god Svorogitch, it does not imply that Svorogitch is a Russian god. I have myseK, in translating the chronicle Malala, put Svorog in place of Hephestos, and Dajbog in place of HeHos. Professor Jagic supposes that Hephestos is caUed Svorog because the very name Svorog resem- bles the word for ' to cook ', or 'to boil ', which made the translator think of the Egyptian Hephestos.^ Hence different writers against paganism call Svorog the god of fire. I therefore venture to say that the idea of considering our ancient gods as personifications of different powers of nature — ^Peroun as thunder, Dajbog as the sun, Svorog or Svorogitch as fire, and so on — ^is a Hterary idea.* This same view has of old been applied to the Greek and Roman gods, and, in any case, we -must remember once for aU that we can only make use of Christian sources for the knowledge of pagan gods after a complete study of Christian literature in relation to paganism. The Christian hterature with its ideas about demonology and gods * See my study, 'St. Nicolas and Artemis of Ephesos,' FolUore, v, pp. 111-12. " Professor Jagic, 'Mythologische Skizzen,' Archiv fur Slavische Philologie, iv, pp. 11-13. ° 'Mythologische Skizzen,' I.e., p. 426. ' To my knowledge no indication of such a view on our gods is earlier than the fifteenth century. C.B. II S 258 VII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs as elements of nature, has saved the names of these gods from oWmon; but it gives us only the current ideas of the cultured classes about these gods, and not those of the nation at large. That aU that has been written against paganism is taken from literary sources and not from direct intercourse with the people, appears clearly from the fact that the writers speak quite differently about the gods and the popular religion, about which we know from the study of modern rites and customs. In speaking about gods they sometimes attribute to the Russians Buch gods as Dyi (Aufl) or Diva («HBa) who, as Professor Jagic has shown, are nothing but the genitive Dios from Zeus, and Demeter with the omission of Meter. On the other hand, whenever they speak of rites and customs, they give correct details and insist upon their knowledge as eye-witnesses. In their struggle against paganism the authors of such works have invented a special word, 'double-faith.' They say that the new Christians (aku o man) secretly confess their old belief. They insist on the duty of a Christian not to cleave to the old pagan rituals, but to give them up entirely and to cease offering sacrifices. We must note — and this is particularly important — that they persuade the people to address themselves always not to the creatures but to their Creator, which means that the people should not implore ' nature ' nor try to force her by means of magic to serve their interests, but should simply believe in the power of the Creator who is sole master on earth. The preachers say that famines, fires, and all other calamities are punishments of God to man. A special treatise was composed on fine weather, and on the punishments of God : ' Saith the Lord, the wicked shall seek for Me and shall not find Me, because they do not wish to walk in My paths, but follow vain demons and honour the work of their own hands.' ^ If men will repudiate their old ways and rituals, they may expect to be richly rewarded : ' If we reject aU this wickedness, God wiU give us, as to His children, forgiveness and send us rain in time, and our barns shall be full with corn, and our casks, shall overrun with wine, &c. . . .' Such exhortations become par- ticularly violent and frequent in times of famine or any other popular calamity. Our chroniclers speak of such crises that happened over a century after the baptism of the Russ. The people, in moments of distress, sought with particular faith the aid of sorcerers and magicians, koudiesniki and volkhvi, or accused them, on the contrary, of being the authors of their misery, and burnt them. In either case the Church expounded to them the theory about the opposition of the creature and the Creator, and exhorted them to offer prayers to the Creator that He should direct the creation for the welfare of the people.^ ^ Azboukine in the Russian Philological Messenger, xxxv, p. 230. ' See Annals, years 1024 and 1074. 5. Old Russian Pagan Cults: Anitchkqff 259 All these considerations make it evident that the Christian writers lived amongst a people who firmly believed in the most rudimentary- agricultural magic. In this paper I have no intention of dilating upon the popular religion of the ancient Slaves. I have done it to a certain extent in my book on Spring Songs and Customs, but I believe that, by studying the question of gods, we should make a forward step in the comprehension of ancient Slavonic religion. These gods appear as something hetero- geneous in the popular religion, but still we cannot affirm that their origin is unconnected with that of the popular religion. The Slaves had a multitude of gods. The Arabian writer, Ibn Fazlan, tells us of numerous Russian gods he saw on the Volga ; and Tietmar says about the Baltic Slaves : ' Quot regiones sunt in his partibus, tot templa habentur, et simulacra demonorum singula ab infidelibus coluntur ' (vi. 25). And it is not the penates he alludes to. Ibn Fazlan also speaks of gods and not penates. Helmold even insists on the idea that the gods are not penates : ' Praeter penates et idola quibus singula oppida redundabant ' (i. 163). Peroun, Volos, and other gods were born in the enormous family of Slavonic gods. Their future was more brilliant because of their political importance, but their origin was obscure and humble. The question now arises : In what relation did the gods we have studied stand to popular religion ? My researches hitherto have not carried me far enough to find this relation. It is only clear to me that these gods do not actually represent anything initial, and that, whatever was their original form, their further development was determined by the mihtary and commercial situation of the people. In an Mvde philologique sur les noms propres de I'Irlande et de la Grande-Bretagne the ABBi FouRRiiBE maintained that the early history of these islands showed traces of the cult of the sun and human sacrifice, brought, as earher to Greece (cf. p. 183), from Palestine by emigrant Danites. He enforced his conclusions by showing in the place-names of Great Britain and Ireland connexion with Hebrew sources, especially with the tribe of Dan and its worship of Baal ; finding, for example, Dan in the names Thames, Tamar; Baal in Belfast, Belper; and in Ely, Halifax, the prophet Elijah. s2 260 FII. Religions of the Germans, Celts, and Slavs In a Note on Gloelia and Epona, M. Salomon Reinach showed that both on the coast of Latium and in Rome there existed archaic statues of horsewomen ; the Roman one was called Cloeha, which is an epithet meaning 'famous' or 'briUiant' and gave rise to the well- known legend of early Roman history. Such figures are proved, by the discovery of an archaic terra-cotta statuette at Lusoi in Arcadia, to represent the Arcadian horse-goddess, coupled with the horse-god whose cult, according to Dionysios, was introduced into Latium by the Arcadians (Poseidon Hippios). When the Gauls found it necessary to represent by sculpture their riding goddess Epona, they borrowed from Rome the archaic type of CloeUa, i.e. the Arcadian type of the horse-goddess, represented by anthropomorphism as a horsewoman. So the type of the Celtic Epona is of Arcadian origin, the way from Arcadia to Gaul having passed through Rome. SECTION VIII THE CHRISTIAIS^ RELIGION PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS Br W. SANDAY In opening the business of this section our first thought is of those distinguished men whose loss we are all feeling, who have dropped out of our ranks almost on the threshold of the Congress itself. Prof. A. Dieterich, Prof. O. Pfleiderer, and M. Jean Reville. Two of the three were not only devoted to the special line of studies which this Congress represents, but were also intimately connected with its organization. M. Jean Reville was permanent secretary of the Congress, which was greatly indebted to his zeal for its foundation and for its prosperity. He had been editor of the Revue de THistoire des Religions since 1884, and he had contributed actively by his writings, such as La Religion a Rome sous les Severes (1884), Les Origines de FEpiscopat (1894), and Le quatrieme Evangile (1900), to the studies of our own section. Prof. Dieterich had in a manner entered upon the inheritance of his father-in-law Hermann Usener, who had been in a still larger sense one of the founders of these studies ; he too had enriched them by a series of monographs {Abraxas, 1891 ; NeTcyia, 1893 ; Eine Mithrasliturgie, 1903 ; Mutter Erde and Sommertag, the first a paper read at the Basel Congress; both were published in 1905); at the time of his death he was editor of the Archiv fur Religions- Wissenschaft, a post which he had held and filled with great energy and efficiency since the reconstruction of the Archiv in 1904. We had hoped that he would preside over the section of Greek and Roman religion ; and we can see from his writings that he always had in view the bearing of his researches upon Christianity. Prof. Otto Pfleiderer was not quite so intimately associated with the special aims of the Congress ; he was primarily a religious philosopher and a historian of religious thought; but he too was deeply interested in Comparative Religion, and his latest book Religion und Religionen (1906) came directly under that head. His help in this section would have been very welcome. 264 VIII. The Christian Religion A brief retrospect like this of those who, if they had lived, would have been sure to take a prominent part in our discussions, remnids us how many shades and degrees of appropriateness there are to the particular lines of a Congress on the History of Religions. I must myself do what I can to follow the hints thus suggested. My duty, as I understand it, is to give a rapid survey, which alone is possible, of the literature of our subject since the last Congress four years ago. Our section is headed ' Christianity ' ; but that does not of course mean Christianity in all its aspects, but rather those specially related to the History of Religion. It will be seen at once that this involves a certain amount of overlapping with other sections. I shall have to consider what the literature of other sections contributes to the study of Christianity ; and then I shall also have to consider the data which Christianity supplies to the broader subject of the History of Religion. From the point of view of Christianity itself, and taking my stand in its First Age or period of Origins, I shall have (1) to work back through its antecedents ; (2) then to speak of its sur- roundings ; (3) to take up the literature of Christian Origins ; (4) to follow its subsequent development and history. In attempting this survey, I must hope to be forgiven for simply repeating what for many here will be matter of elementary know- ledge. I suppose that is really what a survey is intended to be. I am afraid there is not much more that a survey can be in its present hands. 1. Antecedents. — The antecedents of Christianity at once open up to us long vistas — the longest and the most direct of course that which connects it with the Old Testament and with the Religion of Israel ; but this again is coming more and more to involve us also in the history of other religions which from time to time have exercised an influence upon that religion. The four years that we are chronicling have seen active discussions under these heads. And the most dis- tinctive and characteristic feature in these discussions may be said to have come specially from the side of the History of Religion. It may be convenient to call our periods Olympiads. We may do so the more appropriately because, by a fortunate coincidence, the meetings of our Congress synchronize with the revived Olympic Games. So far as the Old Testament is concerned, the particular Olympiad which it falls to me to review found the field in possession of WeUhausen and his school. The period happens to include a number of works which may be taken to represent a sort of gathering in of the harvest of a whole period of investigations conducted on 1. President's Address: Sanday 265 Wellhausen's lines. This holds good not only in respect to Well- hausen himself and his more immediate followers and disciples, but also with respect to a number of independent writers, older and younger, who have been convinced by his arguments and who have given their adhesion to his general scheme. From Wellhausen we have new editions both of his Prolegomena (1905) and of his Israelitische und Judische Geschichte (1906), with a sketch covering the same ground as the latter in Kultur d. Gegen- wart (1906). Bernhard Stade had been almost a lieutenant or second in command to Wellhausen ; no one had done more to work out and popularize his ideas. It was therefore an event of con- siderable importance when he was able to bring out the first volume of his much expected Biblische Theologie d. Alien Testaments in 1905, and the hopes that had been formed of it were not disappointed. It had just the quality of ripeness which might have been anticipated for it. Unhappily it was a first volume doomed to remain without a second, as the writer was cut off in the midst of his active labours within a year. By the side of Stade's comprehensive work stand smaller treatises by Giesebrecht (1904), Marti, and Lohr (both 1906). All these works deal with the religion of Israel, and all are marked by the sobriety, moderation, and general ripeness of which I have spoken. For us in England it was of special value that the extra volume of Hastings's Dictionary of the Bible, which came out in 1904, contained an article on ' The Religion of Israel ', by Dr. E. Kautzsch, which was of the dimensions of a treatise, and that no small one. It would have been impossible to have a more admirable or more weighty summary of the work done upon this subject in recent years. I would take this opportunity to say that I hope that all our younger English students will make a point of grounding themselves thoroughly in this article as a solid foundation not only for the study of the Old Testament but of all that depends upon the Old Testament; in other words, of Christianity as a whole. I may also perhaps be allowed to remark in passing, for the benefit of our foreign guests, that a large proportion of the work done in this country during the last ten years or more, and not a little of that which may be expected in the near future, has found and is likely to find its way into dictionaries. This is partly due to the great energy and organizing ability of the editors of these dictionaries, but also to the fact that a dictionary offers a convenient opening to students who are conscious that their country is somewhat in arrears, and who are anxious to make up for lost ground. At the same time it would be ungrateful not to recognize 266 VIII. The Christian Religion the great amount of help received in these dictionaries from foreign scholars, of which the article of Kautzsch just referred to is a splendid example. I am only glad to think that the same volume also bears satisfactory testimony to the activity and zeal of our own scholars, a zeal that is not confined to the reproduction of what is already known, but is also bent upon the quest for new knowledge. In this country we may take as typical my colleague Dr. Driver's commentary on Genesis (1905), which seems to me (if I may venture to say so) quite a model in its kind, and I am glad to think that it is one of many that we now possess from his hands. I also hear high praise of Mr. MacNeile's Exodm in the same series. I may complete this slight sketch by referring to Corniirs largely re-written Ein- leitung in d. A. T. (1905), and to Budde's Gesch. d. althebrdisch. Literatur (1906) in the series of Handbooks on the Literatures of the East. This book of Budde's may be taken as summing up the literary treatment of the Old Testament in much the same way in which Kautzsch sums up the treatment of its religion. The total result was really a combination of literary and historical criticism mainly within the limits of Israel itself. So far I have spoken of what may be called the main stream of scholarly production. But in the period with which we are concerned another voice has been strongly heard — the voice of the Assyrio- logists. The movement had been growing for some time, but gradually, and it had for the most part been confined to a few of the more advanced scholars, until two events gave it a sudden notoriety. Both these belong more strictly to the period before that of which I am speaking. One was the famous ' Babel-Bibel ' con- troversy, which broke out in the year 1902 over a lecture by Friedrich Delitzsch, was at its height throughout the year 1903, and began to subside in 1904. The other event was the publication of the Code of Hammurabi, king of Babylon towards the end of the third or beginning of the second millennium b. c. This Code, in- scribed upon a block of black diorite, was discovered by the French explorers at Susa early in 1902, and was published with commendable promptitude in the same year. It was soon made accessible in other languages. Both these events took hold on the public imagination, and naturally gave an impulse to the theories which the Assyriologists had already begun to formulate. My present audience will not need to be reminded that the leader in the movement — the main move- ment, as distinct from episodes to which I have referred — was Dr. Hugo Winckler, Professor in the University of Berlin, who had been actively propounding his theories all through the nineties, and had 1. Presidents Address: Sunday 267 made some distinguished converts or part-converts in this country as well as elsewhere. In our period he has found vigorous and efficient allies in A. and J. Jeremias, the former of whom published an elaborate work Das Alte Testament im Lichte des Alten Orients in 1904 and a revised and enlarged edition in 1906. Winekler and his allies are extraordinarily prolific in ideas, extending over many fields, chronology, geography, archaeology, history, and in particular the history of religion. One significant adhesion has been lately received. Dr. I. Benzinger brought out last year a completely re- written edition of his Hehrdische Archdologie, embodying many of the new ideas. The impulse in this case was given not only by the writings of the Assyriologists, but still more by prolonged residence in the East, stimulating what was felt to be a more oriental way of looking at things. While these literary developments were going on in Europe, Winekler himself was engaged last year in remarkably successful explorations on the site of Boghaz-Koi, the ancient capital of the Hittites. A preliminary account of his discoveries has been given in the Mitteil. d. Deutsch. Orieni-Gesellschaft (Dec. 1907). They are said to be comparable in importance with the discovery of the Tell el-Amarna tablets in 1888, and to illustrate in a striking way the political relations and culture of the East about the year 1400 b. c. As I am speaking of discoveries, I must needs refer to the surprising light which suddenly and quite recently has been thrown on the early history of the Jewish Diaspora by documents found near Assuan, on the site of the ancient Elephantine, some of which have been published in this country by Sayce and Cowley, and others even more important in Germany by Dr. E. Sachau. Those who are not already aware of the fact maj' be glad to know that three closely packed lectures on the gains from recent archaeological researches and discovery, from the pen of Dr. Driver, are to be published shortly. They were delivered in the spring of this year under the new Schweich foundation, which is administered by the British Academy. I only regret that the work entailed by these lectures, and other public duties, have prevented Dr. Driver from taking the active part that he would otherwise naturally have taken in the present Congress. Dr. Sayce, I need not say, is an Assyriologist of long standing. He may rightly claim that research is coming round to his field of study. And another colleague and friend of mine. Dr. Cheyne, I wish indeed could be here to speak for himself. He will, I am sure, have the sympathy of all in the serious illness which keeps him away. He has always been in the forefront of progress, and has been one of the very first to greet new knowledge of every kind. He brought out 268 VIII. The Christian Religion last year Traditions and Beliefs of Ancient Israel, a very original running commentary on the Book of Genesis, giving special promi- nence to ethnology and geography and to drastic textual criticism. I may also mention here a small and popular but important book, Bible Problems (1904), which belongs partly to this head and partly to the New Testament. I spoke of Benzinger's conversion as significant. Some might think still more so the remarkable excursion into the field of theology of P. Jensen, who is one of the most courageous and learned of those who have broken their teeth on the Hittite language. He published in 1906 the first volume, in more than a thousand pages, of a work entitled Das Gilgameschepos in der Weltliteratur, the effect of which is intended to show that not only the greater part of the Old Testament, but even the substance of the Gospels themselves, are but faint echoes of the old Babylonian epic of Gilgamesh (corresponding to the biblical Nimrod) and the Flood. These strange doctrines are said to have made one convert in Jensen's fellow- Assyriologist Zimmern; but I greatly fear that for the rest they are likely to be preached to an unbelieving and perverse generation. By his own admission Jensen is gifted with a very fertile imagination, and with him imagination takes the form of extreme quickness to perceive analogies, which is apparently combined with some reluctance to criticize them. The consequence is an elaborate construction which seems to be built on the principles made classical by Fluellen : There is a river in Macedon ; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth. . . . 'Tis so like as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. I must not go out of my own sphere ; and I ought to confess that I have not myself read Jensen's book ; I only know it through what appears to be a very good review by Hans Schmidt in Theol. Rymdschau. But I would venture to make two suggestions to the Assyriologists : (1) that it might be well to be rather more severe in deciding what are valid analogies and what are not ; and (2) when they come to the New Testament, that it is important for them to make clear to themselves precisely what they mean by mythology, and precisely in what relation the supposed mythology stands to the New Testament documents. I do not doubt myself that mythology has entered into the New Testament, e. g. into the description of the Mother and Child in Rev. xii. But it is a very different thing to explain mythologically the contents of leading Synoptic documents, such as the Mark-Gospel or Q. 1. President's Address: Sanday 269 One of the most pleasing examples of the influence of Assyriology on Old Testament problems that has come in my way is B. Baentsch, Altorientalischer und Jsraelitischer Monotheismus (1906). And yet I hardly think that this is likely to eflect so great a change in current opinion as its author appears to suppose. Some of the points which he takes up from Winckler I should be glad to see established, especially that about the solar aeons and about the tendencies towards Monotheism in Babylonia as well as Egypt. And I can well believe that, as Volz is also contending {Mose, 1907) and Dr. Burney (in Journ. of Theol. Studies, 1908), more should be set down to the work of Moses than has often been done in recent years. But I doubt if the general conception of religious evolution in the Old Testament period will be greatly changed. Within our period would also fall David u. sein Zeitalter (1907) by the same writer, which I have not seen. Another instance of an Old Testament scholar influenced by Assyriology and other oriental studies, but steering an independent course midway between the two main parties (Wellhausen and the Assyriologists), is supplied by Gunkel. Gunkel's most important work would fall in previous periods ; we have from him a sketch of the Literature of Israel in Die Kultur der Gegenwart (1906), broadly planned and freshly apprehended. But an even more notable production — I suppose one may say, from Gunkel's school — is Dr. Hugo Gressmann's Ursprung der israelitisch-jiidischen Eschatologk (1905). This is a very vigorous and able piece of work, sometimes perhaps pushed rather to an extreme, and is especially interesting for its bearing on the history of New Testament termino- logy and ideas. It is well that we should be reminded of the important caution that the first extant mention of an idea is very often far from being its first real appearance in the course of history. And another fruitful suggestion or reminder of Gressmann's is that what we have before us (e. g. in important passages like Dan. vii. 13, 14) is only a fragment of a larger and more comprehensive conception. For the ultimate root of the ideas that he investigates Gressmann often goes outside Israel, and the tendency of his book is to multiply the threads which connect the religion of Israel with other Oriental religions. I cannot do more than mention the interesting and searching questions that are being raised almost as I write by Prof. Eerdmans of Leyden in the two parts that have so far appeared of his Alttesta- nientliche Studien (1908) and in the August and September numbers of The Expositor. Prof. Eerdmans propounds new and enterprising views as to the Exodus and the early condition of Israel. He seems 270 VIII. The Christian Religion to deny the common opinion that the Israelites can be rightly described as nomads at the time of their entrance into Palestine. But I see that the challenge which he throws down is already taken up by Prof. Gr. Adam Smith in the pages of The Expositor. With Gressmann we naturally pass over from the Old Testament to the New. For the space between the Testaments I suppose that the most considerable event that I have to record is also one of the most recent, the publication of Dr. Charles's two volumes (one containing text, and the other containing translation and commentary) of the Testaments of the XII Patriarchs (1908). At last we have a standard edition of this significant and characteristic book, which is at once so rich in illustration of the Christian writings and so worthy a monument of (in the main) the better side of Judaism. With these volumes we have also the close of the long series which Dr. Charles has dedicated to the elucidation of this extra-canonical Jewish literature. It is superfluous to say that our debt to him in this country is immense. If over all this ground the English scholar is not only as well but even better equipped than his neighbours, it is pre-eminently to Dr. Charles that the credit is due. I am glad to be able to add that in conjunc- tion with other scholars he is preparing a complete Corpus of this literature. Another event that we all heartily welcome is the appearance of a second edition, revised and largely reconstructed, of Boussefs Religion d. Judentums (1906). The only fact which makes this event of less capital importance is that the edition is the second and not the first (the first came out in 1903). Dr. Bousset is one of the most indefatigable and prolific writers of the rising generation ; and we are glad that he should be, because his writings are all distinguished not only by great knowledge and lucidity, but by real interest in religion and by a very laudable effort after objectivity. He also seems to me to have marked skill in indicating problems and throwing out suggestions for their solution. The Jildische Eschatohgie of P. Volz, of which we naturally think along with Bousset, belongs to the date of his first edition, and so is outside our limits. Perhaps I should mention here the second edition of Schlatter, Geschichte Israels von Alexander d. Grossen bis Hadrian (1906), a book that we are glad to have for the convenient period which it covers, though it probably contains not a little that is more ingenious than sound. I do not speak of it from personal knowledge. There has been a good deal of discussion in recent years about the comparative value of the two Books of Maccabees. The impulse was given by B. Niese in 1900, and an important article surveying 1. President's Address : Sunday 271 the whole question by Wellhausen appeared in the Gottingische Nachrkhten for 1905. In this connexion too I should note Mr. E. R. Sevan's excellent history of the [House of Seleucus (1902)] and Jerusalem under the High Priests (1904!). If we may judge from the reviews, it does not seem as though we need trouble ourselves much over the so-called Samaritan text of Joshua ; but I ought perhaps to mention the comprehensive work on the Samaritans by Dr. James A. Montgomery (1907). Before leaving this section, I must not fail to recall the welcome increase in the activity of Jewish scholars, bringing out of their stores to enrich the common stock of knowledge. A better survey of this activity than I can give will be found, from the pen of Mr. G. H. Box, in the current (September) number of the Review of Theology and Philosophy. Add to the list of available books Oesterley and Box, The Religion and Worship of the Synagogue (1907). We have not yet perhaps quite succeeded in striking a balance between the Jewish contribution and the Christian ; but that will come in due course. 2. Surroundings. — ^The student of the surroundings or (as we may call it) the nidus of Christianity is at the present time in a position of great advantage both absolutely and in comparison with the state of things a few years ago. For externals, he has SchiJrer, brought up to date by unremitting labour ; for within six years of the completion of the third edition, itself greatly enlarged upon its predecessors, a fourth edition has already begun to appear (end of 1907). For the inner history of contemporary Judaism, he has the second edition of Bousset, just referred to. For Graeco-Roman religion he has the masterly survey by Wissowa (in Iwan Miiller's Handlmch, 1902) with the detailed account of Roman religion in the same volume. The older book by Aust (1899) was also very good and was a product of the same school. In English we have also older work by Mr. Warde Fowler, and brief but attractive sketches by Mr. J. P. Carter (1906) and Mr. Cyril Bailey (1907). Dr. Famell has continued his great work on the Cults of the Greek States with two more volumes (iii and iv) in 1907, and there is much relevant matter in his Evolu- tion of Religion (1905) ; Miss Jane Harrison's Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion was earlier (1903), but she too contributed a brief sketch of the subject in 1905 ; Dr. O. Gruppe's vast collection of material (2 vols., also in Iwan Mviller) dates from 1906. Another masterly survey of Graeco-Roman thought and religion, with especial reference to the rise of Christianity, is that by Dr. Paul 272 VIII. The Christian Religion Wendland, which came out in Lietzmann's Handbiich zum N. T. in 1907. Along with this should be read an older paper by Wendland, Christentum und Hellenismus in ihren litterarischen Beziehungen (1902); and with both should be compared a very able paper by Dr. P. Corssen, Uber Begriff und Wesen des Helknismus in the June number of the Zeitschrift fur die neutest. Wissenschaft for the present year. Dr. Corssen has several criticisms of Wendland in regard to which I am inclined to think that he is right, especially where he demurs to the stress laid on the 'isolation' of Philo. No doubt Philo does bulk large in history, and he does appear to be isolated ; but that is mainly because so much of his voluminous writings has survived, while the links that would have connected them with other literature of the kind have perished. Schiirer, Bousset, Wissowa, and Wendland make up a quaternion of writings that are of the greatest value for the study of the environment of Christianity. The English reader also has access to three interesting books : Dill, Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius (1904?); Bigg, The Church'' s Task under the Roman Empire (1905); and MahafFy, The Silver Age of the Greek World (1906). All who know the writings of Dr. Bigg, with their wonderful charm of thought and expression, will know what we have lost in him. One of the questions that have been actively discussed in the period before us is the question as to the influence, direct or indirect, of the further East upon early Christianity. This influence may be sought in three main directions ; it may have come from Babylonia, from Persia, or from as distant a region as India. For Babylonian in- fluences a wide period lies open ; they may go back to quite pre- historic times, or they may have filtered in more gradually during the period of the Hebrew monarchy, or they may have poured in with a broader stream during the exile. Persian influences will have made themselves felt chiefly in the later period of the exile. In either case the direct impact will have been upon Hebraism or Judaism, and it will be through these channels that ideas and tendencies reached downwards to Christianity. On Babylonian in- fluence the literature is abundant ; on Persian, there is a repertory of materials by Btiklen (1902), which however appear rather to need sifting. Pfleiderer, Cheyne, Bousset, and Gressmann are all inclined to lay stress on Persian influence, which is also advocated by Prof. L. H. Mills (Zarathustra, the Achaemenids and Israel, 1905-6). Indian influence stands more by itself, and those who assume it would suppose that it was in more immediate contact with Christianity. It may be remembered that in his Hibhert Lectures 1. President's Address : Sunday 273 (1882) Kuenen rather summed up against the idea, which at that time was coming forward. Its principal advocate was Rudolf Seydel in several works dating from the early eighties. The hypothesis was taken up again in a temperate and judicious spirit by Dr. van den Bergh van Eysinga in 1904. I confess that I am not myself prepared to exclude the possibility of Indian influence. It has to be borne in mind that, since the conquests of Alexander and the establishment of a Greek kingdom in Bactria, and of a Greek dynasty on the Tigris (the Seleucidae), the outposts of western civilization had been pushed further east than ever before, and the channels of communication between the further East and the West had been multiplied. If Greek stories and mo^i/i of stories could travel through to India, then by the reverse route Buddhist stories might find their way to Antioch and Alexandria, and, if to Antioch and Alexandria, also to Palestine. I cannot say that I have yet sufficiently considered the question to form a definite opinion, but it is an important fact that so expert a scholar as Oldenberg, in a review of van den Bergh in the Theol. Literaturzeitung for 1905, seemed inclined to regard the thesis as not proven . 3. Origins. — When we turn to the more direct consideration of the Christian documents and Christian history, we have again to face the question where the line is to be drawn and what shall be admitted into our survey and what shall not. Strictly speaking, everything is relevant. If our data are to be sound, they must be based upon a right reconstruction of the texts as well as upon a knowledge of their history. And not less is it necessary to form a right idea of the process by which the Gospels assumed their present shape ; they must be analysed into their component parts, and the relation of these parts to each other must be determined. All these investiga- tions belong to the indispensable ' underground work ', without which any attempt to build up a history of Christianity as a religion and in relation to other religions must rest upon insecure foundations. And yet from our present point of view these branches of the inquiry are subordinate and can only be touched upon in passing. As to the text of the New Testament, it must suffice to say that the great undertaking of Freiherr von Soden makes progress. He has now finished his first volume, with an immense mass of analytical detail and a complete exposition of principle, at least for the Gospels ; and we are waiting with the greatest interest to see the application of these principles in practice. Along with this should be mentioned the new volume of Merx, Markus.u. Lukas, which came out in 1905 ; 274 VIII. The Christian Religion it is full of original matter, and will be long before it is utilized as fully as it deserves. In this country the most important work in recent years has been done by Prof. F. C. Burkitt, with his ally Mr. P. M. Barnard, especially the admirable edition of the Old-Syriac Gospels {Evangelion da-Mephar-reshe) in 1904. I ought also to chronicle the completion of the edition of the Bohairic Version at the Clarendon Press in 1905. And I should like, if I may, to invite the attention of those of our guests from abroad who are interested in these matters to a forthcoming article by Mr. C. H. Turner in Murray's Concise Dictionary of the Bible, which I believe may be expected soon and which will be found to contain a masterly review of the subject along with a clear indication of the newer tendencies at work among us. There may be other parts of the volume for which I should less like to answer; I speak only of what I have seen. In regard to the Synoptic Problem, the period of which I have been speaking has been signalized by the entrance into the arena of two leading critics, Wellhausen (1903-1905) and Harnack (LuJcas, 1906 ; Spriiche und Reden, 1907 ; of. Apostelgeschichte, 1908). In both cases the problem is attacked with characteristic incisiveness and energy. Not less noteworthy is the return to his old ground of the veteran Bernhard Weiss (jQuellen des Lukas-Evcmgelitims, 1907 ; Quellen d. Synopt. tiberlieferung, 1908). It is encouraging that these three eminent scholars agree in the main lines of their analysis, if we allow for the more extended use of Q (the discourse document) postulated by Weiss. The most important question at present sub jvdice is that as to the special source or sources of St. Luke ; on this the views of Harnack and Weiss are widely divergent. Other weighty contributions to this subject have been made by Jiilicher {Einleitimg, 1906 ; Neue Linien, 1906) and by Johannes Weiss (in Schriften d. N.T., 1906). Another distinguished veteran, Dr. H. J. Holtzmann, has taken up the pen again with much advantage in a review of the 'Mark Controversy' in the Archiv f. Rel.-Wiss. for 1907. Altogether the Olympiad has been fruitful in searching work. I ought also to mention, besides minor productions, Mr. W. C. Allen on St. Matthew (1907), a new edition of Zahn's Commentary on St. Matthew (1905; ed. 1, 1903), and Loisy's two ample volumes on the Synoptics (1907). In regard to the Fourth Gospel, in one sense there is, in another sense there is not, much progress to record. Broadly speaking, the two opposing estimates, the higher and the lower, confront each other obstinately with very little change. A book or pamphlet on the 1. President's Address: Sunday 275 one side is usually followed by a book or pamphlet on the other. Among the most recent literature I may mention, for the traditional view, Zahn's impressive Commentary (1908), Barth, Einleitung (1908), Lectures by the Dean of Westminster (1908); against, Burkitt, Gospel History and its Transmission (1906), Ernest F. Scott, TTie Fourth Gospel, its Purpose and Theology (1906), two tracts by P. W. Schmiedel (1906), and commentaries by Heitmiiller (1907) and Walter Bauer (1908). Two valuable works by Dr. Edwin A. Abbott, Johannine Vocabulary (1905) and Johannine Grammar (1906), are analytic collections of material that need not be regarded as con- troversial ; and as much might almost be said of Mr. H. L. Jackson's carefully balanced argument (1906), and of two delicately dis- criminating studies by Dr. Lock in The Interpreter for 1907 and in Joum. of Theol. Studies for April of this year. An equally sharp division is to be observed between those who accept and those who reject the statement attributed to Papias about the death of St. John, which has become so prominent in recent years. As a rule the conservative writers dismiss it, while the critical writers insist upon it. I find myself here rather between the two camps, as I cannot satisfy myself that it is safe either to build much upon it or to treat it as non-existent. And yet, although the general position is one for the most part of stubborn attack on the one side and stubborn defence on the other, the controversy is gradually being brought within narrower limits ; the two parties are coming to understand each other better, and the antitheses are less extreme. I should note in passing, the hypothesis of divided authorship — of an older and a later stratum — advocated by Wendt, Dr. C. A. Briggs, and Prof, von Dobschiitz. I am afraid that I am not yet converted. Of the other books of the New Testament, the Acts is once more the subject of lively discussion, turning mainly round Harnack's two monographs on the Lucan writings. So far, Hamack has been rather in a minority among his own countrymen ; but it is only fair to him to say that in this country he has many sympathizers. With us, it is not only a question of results but of method ; and I confess that for myself I prefer Hamack's methods to those of his opponents. I believe that the data on which he grounds his case are (within their limits) less subjective and more trustworthy than the arguments brought on the other side. The last four years have been a comparatively quiet time for the criticism of the Pauline and Catholic Epistles. Since Clemen's Paulus (1904), I do not think that there is anything of great impor- t2 276 VIII. The Christian Religion tance to chronicle except commentaries (1, 2 Thessalonians, Milligan 1908, [Wohlenberg, 1903] ; 1 Corinthians, Bachmann, 1905, [Goudge, 1903] ; Galatians, Zahn, 1905 ; Ephesians, &c., Philippians, P. Ewald, 1905 ; Pastorals, Wohlenberg, 1906 ; St. James, Knowling, 1904 ; and other series), also the more general head (St. Paul and Christ) that I shall come to presently. Apart from the Gospels, the chief centre of critical activity has been the Apocalypse. It fell to me to review the recent literature— especially the English literature— on this book in the Journ. of Theol. Studies for July, 1907 ; and, as the subject is secondary for our purpose and time is pressing, I may perhaps be allowed to refer to that article, without going into further details ; it is supplemented and extended in two articles by Arnold Meyer in the Theol. Rundschau also of last year. Two words may be added. One is that, since these articles there has appeared a posthumous fragment on Apoc. i-iii by Dr. Hort, with an introduction advocating the early date 69 a.d. The other remark is that the work on Apoc. to which we are all most indebted is Bousset's Commentary, of which a new edition came out in 1906 (1st ed. 1896). Over all this ground of the New Testament the subject that most concerns the historian of religions is the presentment of religious ideas. From this point of view we may note as specially character- istic of the new century and in full swing during the period with which we are dealing, the strong appeal that is being made to the people as contrasted with the more limited public of scholars to which the theology of the last century addressed itself. The impulse was probably given by the publication of Harnack's famous lectures Das Wesen des Christentums in 1900 ; but there was a crowd of younger professors and writers who were ready and eager to act upon the hint on a more extended scale. The series Religionsgeschichtliche Volksbiicher was launched in 1904, and the stream has been running in swift and full current ever since. The rival series of Biblische Zeit- und Streitfragen, from a more conservative or conservative-liberal point of view, was started a year later and is also carried on with much energy. Other series, like WeinePs Lebensfrugen, have a similar object. I believe that these popular tracts have had and are having a wide circulation in Germany. In these islands, too, religious discussions always excite a widespread interest ; the misfortune is that popular writers with us are not always so competent as they usually are among oar neighbours. A heightened religious conscious- ness and interest may be taken as a mark of the twentieth century, along with a striving after freshness and reality which is not content 1. President's Address : Sunday 277 with simple acquiescence in ancient formulae. It may be understood, therefore, that the discussions of which I am about to speak, though for the most part originating among scholars, reach further than such discussions used to do. The Gospels and the Life and Teaching of Christ are in these days the dominant topic; and if we ask which of the sub-heads has been most prominent in the last four years, it would probably not be wrong to .say that it has been what is technically called Eschatology. In the period preceding the last International Congress at Basel it might be said that the leading New Testament topic under discussion had been the question as to the title ' Son of Man '. By the time that the Congress was held that question had nearly worked itself out. The upshot was that, while it was fully admitted that in the Aramaic of Palestine as it was spoken at the Christian era the phrase had come to mean simply ' man ' or (with the article) ' the man ', it did not by any means follow — as had been supposed in some quarters rather hastily at first — that it had not been used by Christ Himself and of Himself. It was seen to be difficult to hold any such view in face of the evidence which showed it to be deeply rooted in the Synoptic as well as in the Johannine tradition, and at the same time no less remarkably confined to this and absent from the usage of St. Paul and of the Primitive Church in general. Most scholars had come to think that there was a tacit reference to the famous vision described in Dan. vii. 13, the Human Figure as contrasted with the four Beasts which stood for the four world-empires. There was also a general tendency to see the same Figure in the heavenly Judge of the Similitudes of the Book of Enoch, who is there too called the Son of Man. Dr. Cheyne (in Bible Problems, 1904) argues that the reference was to the Messiah in the form of the archangel Michael ; Gressmann, in the book of which I have spoken above (p. 7), connects it with ' the heavenly man ' or ' the ideal man ', thinking that ' the man ' stood for these fuller phrases much as ' the day ' or ' that day ' stood for ' the day of the Lord ', ' the day of judgement,' or ' the great day '. But the point that came out most clearly was that in the usage of the time the conception was essentially eschatological ; it was part, and a leading part, of the general conception of the approaching end of the world which was dressed out in such vivid colours. And whereas in the period before 1904 controversy had turned largely round the particular conception of ' the son of man ', in the period now before us the whole question of the eschatology of the New Testament has been actively debated. I am glad to think that we have 278 VIII. The Christian Religion on our own programme papers on the subject by two distinguished scholars, which I am sure will be listened to with the greatest interest. We are all of us apt to be influenced by subjective impressions, and I confess that for my own part few of the books that have been published during this period have taken a stronger hold on me than Schweitzer's Von Reimarits zu Wrede (1906). It is a combative book, and has passed rather like a storm-cloud across the sky. No doubt it has its faults, as well as its conspicuous merits. To discuss these quite freely would lead me outside the sphere of this Congress. The chief mistakes of the book appear to me to be two. It does not take sufficient account of the literary criticism of the Gospels ; and it does not allow enough for the extent to which Christ, in adopting the current ideas of the time, also transformed them. I think we may say that the extent to which He did transform this particular group of ideas is one of the leading problems that the student of the New Testament has to consider. I may point out that, while the later writers, St. Paul and St. John, practically substituted another group of ideas — or at least laid the stress upon this other group which they silently withdrew from the eschatological — they did not even to the last discard the eschato- logical idea altogether. As late as Phil. iv. 5, St. Paul still puts forth the warning, ' The Lord is at hand ' ; and as late as 1 John ii. 18, St. John writes, ' Little children, it is the last hour ; and as ye heard that antichrist cometh, even now have there arisen many antichrists ; whereby we know that it is the last hour.' This is a part of the problem that must not be lost sight of. Among the recent writings which are most helpful to us in weighing this and other questions, probably the most valuable are those of H. J. Holtzmann. It is a delight to see with what un- diminished — nay, accelerated — energy this most experienced of scholars makes use of the leisure that he has earned so well. He gives us just what experience and knowledge such as his are best able to give us, surveys at once broad and penetrating of one branch after another of the department of which he is master. Perhaps the most important from our present point of view is his treatise on the Messianic consciousness of Christ, Das messianische Bewusstsein Jesu (1907), which is specially interesting as bringing out the large amount of substantial consent which underlies the individual diversities of apprehension among the scholars of the present time. Dr. Holtzmann distributes his favours over a rather large number of periodicals, but one of the most fortunate in this respect — and indeed I may say, one of the most fortunate from the point of view of our subject generally — 1. Presidents Address : Sunday 279 during the period I am reviewing has been the Protestantische Monatshefte. Of the burning questions of our time, we might say perhaps that the Virgin Birth has been a little less burning than usual. At least in this country and in Germany there has been, if I am not mistaken, a certain lull in the discussions. These have been more active in America, and especially iii the American Journal of Theology. We may divide with America the credit of the volume of lectures from the conservative side recently (1907) published by Dr. Orr of Glasgow, one of our most prolific and able writers on this side. I should like also to commend the articles on the subject in Hastings, Diet, of Christ and the Gospels, and an article by Mr. W. C. Allen in The Interpreter for October, 1905, with the relevant parts of his Commentary on St. Matthew. Eastwards of the Atlantic, there has been more stir on the subject of the Resurrection. On this we have a survey by Holtzmann in Theol. Rundschau for 1906. I may mention more particularly in this connexion works by Arnold Meyer (1905), Voigt (1906), Kirsopp Lake (1907, critical and very ingenious), and a series of papers by Dr. Orr in The Expositor of the present year. Both the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection were discussed by Dr. Cheyne in Bible Problems. Another fundamental question that has been freely discussed in the last few years is the relation of Christ to St. Paul — and that on all its sides, the extent of St. Paul's knowledge of Christ, his personal attitude to Christ, and the relation in which his teaching stands to that of Christ. Dr. Knowling's The Testimony of St. Paul to Christ (1905) covers most of the ground. More recently we have had a number of suggestive and interesting pamphlets by Julius Kaftan (1906), Wrede, Jiilicher, and Arnold Meyer (all in 1907), among which that of Julicher seems to me especially admirable ; and I may perhaps be allowed to mention an article of my own at the end of vol. ii of the Diet, of Christ and the Gospels. Questions bearing on the history of religious ideas naturally come up in connexion with the Apocalypse, especially chaps, xii, xiii, xix, XX. The pioneer and protagonist in the interpretation of these chapters specially from this point of view is Gunkel, who has been mentioned along with others in what has been already said about the literature on the book. Reference may also be made to the survey in Theol. Rundschau for 1907. 4. Later History. — When we leave behind the period of Origins 280 VIII. The Christian Religion and pass on to the subsequent development of Christianity, our Olympiad has not I believe any single work to show of first-rate importance, but in many directions our knowledge has been deepened and made more exact, and in some few it has been enriched by new materials. In the way of general survey there are the two volumes of Mgr. Duchesne {Histoire Ancienne de F^glise, 1906-7), the earlier portion of which perhaps preserves its engaging simplicity, in part at least, by not probing too deeply. Beyond these volumes I do not know that there is anything new to chronicle, but only new editions. But when we remember that these new editions include Harnack's Mission und Ausbreitung des Christentums considerably enlarged (1906), and also what is described as a complete recasting of Loofs's DogmengescMchte (two parts, 1906), it will be understood that the gleanings are by no means to be despised. Though he keeps its modest title. Dr. Loofs is obliged to confess that his work has really outgrown the limits of a ' Leitfaden ' ; it represents the mature views of one who has worked closely at his subject as Professor for some two-and-twenty years. Really new ground is broken in the posthumous treatise of Lucius, Anfdnge des Heiligenhults (1904). Lucius and Hegler were two young scholars of great promise lost to historical science in the same year (1902). One of the regions which, especially for us in England, stands out in much clearer light than it did is the Syriac-speaking Church with its centre at Edessa. We owe this mainly to Prof. Burkitt, who has not only gathered together what had been previously made out by Tixeront, Duval, and others, but has himself cleared up much that was obscure, particularly as to the history of the Syriac Scriptures. Another example of the breaking up of comparatively new ground is supplied by the writings of Reitzenstein. Reitzenstein is a classical scholar who has turned his attention to the study of Hellenistic Religion, and especially to the so-called Hermetic literature, in which Egyptian religion in its Greek dress comes in contact with Christianity. His Poimandres (1904) should be read along with a criticism by F. Granger in Journ. of Theol. Studies for July, 1907. Another fresh and instructive work of Reitzen stein's is Hellenistische Wunder- erzdhlungen (1906), in which much use is made of the Life of ApoUonius of Tyana. Prof. Boussefs Hauptprobleme d. Gnosis (1907) will, I doubt not, mark a real step in advance in the mastering of that intricate subject. Carl Schmidt contributes a Coptic version of the so-called First Epistle 1. President's Address: Sunday 281 of Clement of Rome (1908), and Geffcken an exhaustive and valuable commentary on two Greek Apologists, Aristides and Athenagoras (1907). The most important accession of wholly new material is the re- discovery and publication by two Armenian scholars of a work of Irenaeus preserved in an Armenian version, ' In Proof of the Apostolic Preaching ' (1907). This appeared, with an epilogue and notes by Harnack, in Texte u. Untersuchungen. There is no doubt about the genuineness of the treatise, which reproduces the characteristic teaching of Irenaeus but can otherwise hardly be said to add to what we knew before. Through the Berlin series of Ante-Nicene Writers we are put in possession of admirable editions of Clement of Alexandria (vols, i, ii ; Stahlin, 1905, 1906), of the Gnostic works Pistis Sophia and Book of Jeu (C. Schmidt, 1905), of writings of Eusebius including the com- pletion of the Church History (E. Klostermann, 1906 ; E. Schwartz, 1908), and of the Acta Archelai (Beeson, 1906). All scholars will appreciate the value of these editions, which give them sound tools to work with instead of unsound. Among the additions to Texte u. Unter- suchungen is a portion of the original Greek text of the Chronicle of Hippolytus, published for the first time from a Madrid MS. (A. Bauer, 1905), verifying conjectures by Mommsen and other scholars. Another elaborate edition is Funk's Didascalia et Constitutiones Apostolorum, the last and crowning work of a career devoted to learning. We must note the removal of Commodian of Gaza from the list of African writers of the third century to the middle of the fifth century and to Gaul, which appears to be made good by the monograph of Father Brewer (1906). For the writers of the fourth century we have a number of monographs, which have all advanced our know- ledge ; e. g. Leipoldt on Didymus the Blind {Texte u. Untersuchungen, 1905), G. Ficker on Amphilochius (1906), Lietzmann on Apollinaris of Laodicea {Texte u. Untersuchungen, 1904), Kiinstle on the con- troversy which gathered round Priscillian and his writings {Anti- priscilliana, 1905). This last work, although it has certainly advanced our knowledge, does not quite seem to have struck the final balance of what is to be said for and against Priscillian. To the fourth century also belongs the writer known as Ambrosiaster, on whom Dr. Souter has contributed an exhaustive monograph to the Cambridge Texts and Studies (1905). And from Cambridge also proceeds Dr. Burn's edition of Niceta of Remesiana (1905). On these two writers shoxijd be read Mr. C. H. Turner's two papers, which amount to a monograph of a very searching kind, in Journ. of Theol. Studies, 282 VIII. The Christian Religion 1906. For the fifth century we have Dr. Loofs's admirable collection of Nestoriaiia (1905). For the end of the sixth century we have a Life on a large scale of Gregory the Great by Mr. F. H. Dudden (1905). In the way of texts, the Vienna Corpus has been making, progress, with a new part of TertuUian (Kroymann, 1906), the first part of Boethius (S. Brandt, 1906), a new part of St. Augustine (Petschenig, 1908), and the Quaestiones of Ambrosiaster (Souter, 1908). I must also note the appearance of a further part of Mr. C. H. Turner's monumental work on the Latin Canons in 1907. This is as far down the stream of ecclesiastical history as I can attempt to go. I must not, however, leave my subject without mentioning the comprehensive survey of the Christian Religion, from the first beginnings of the Religion of Israel down to the position of its leading branches at the present time, in the KuUur der Gegenwart (1906). Among the many able papers which compose this volume I suppose that the weightiest, as it is also considerably the longest, is the estimate of modern Protestantism by Troeltsch. It is inter- esting to compare the full and careful review of this by Kattenbusch in Theol. Rundschau of last year. And, in conclusion, I should like to do justice to the real effort after impartiality in another compre- hensive work. Dr. Paul Wernle's Einfilhrung in das theologische Studium (1908). Dr. Wernle has a warm temperament and strong opinions of his own, and it must have cost him not a little to state both sides of the many open questions that beset the Christian theologian with as much objectivity as he has succeeded in attaining. His special gift of clear, well-proportioned, vigorous and vivid presen- tation has ample scope in this volume. THE PLACE OF THE SACRED BOOK IN THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION By F. C. porter. (Abstract) In the Jewish Chuixih of the time of Christ the Old Testament was viewed under three aspects, as a book of law, as a book of revealed mysteries, and as a book of devotion. These three aspects and uses of the book corresponded in a general way to the three parts of the canon, since after the law came the prophets, who were regarded especially as the revealers of mysteries of the unseen world and of the future ; and the most important book of the third canon was the Psalms. But it can be said that the whole Old Testament was viewed and used by some Jews predominantly as law, by some as prophecy or revelation, by some as a book of prayer, giving language to religious feeling and food to the religious hfe. It cannot be doubted that in the time of Christ the first view and use of the book was the most prevalent, or at least the most prominent, and that the word ' law ' best names the place which the Scriptures then held in Judaism. This means that the use even of non-legal parts of the book was in a measure determined by a legal conception of the nature of reUgion ; and that the book as a whole was thought to speak to the wiU and to require submissive acceptance and obedient following in deed and in belief. To some Jews, however, the whole book appeared rather as a revelation to the mind of things otherwise unknowable. The mystery which the book was meant above aU to disclose was that of Israel's calling to be the pecuhar people of God. It is this mystery that the stories of the past explained in its beginnings and estabUshed as an historical fact. It is with the real meaning and the purposed end of this singular relation of God to Israel that the prophets are concerned. But Philo, on the one hand, and the apocalypses on the other, prove that when the book is viewed under this aspect, as the revelation of what could not otherwise be known, it is a natural consequence that all sorts of mysteries of the unseen world and of first tilings and last things wiU be sought and found in its pages. There is, however, no doubt that to many Jews, of this as of aU ages, the sacred book was chiefiy one of devotion, appeahng rather to the religious feelings than to the will or to the intellect. It is not only the Psalms that give evidence of this use, but the emotional element so penetrates and inspires the Old Testament writings through- out that it is impossible to imagine a time when to simple religious 284 VIII. The Christian Religion souls its impression should not have come chiefly through the avenue of feehng, by means of the quahty of the words themselves, which are charged with a contagious faith and hope and love. Of course I do not mean that the three views and uses of the book are exclusive of one another. In fact it was the law that defined and secured Israel's peculiar calling, and the possession of the law and the sense of being a pecuUar people were chief springs of re- ligious feehng. Yet it makes an essential difference in the place of a book in a religion, whether one conceives of it chiefly as a law to be interpreted and observed, or as a key by which the secrets of the universe can be unlocked, or as a Uterature of faith and hope to be enjoyed. Prom the Jewish reUgion Christianity received its first, and for a long time its only, sacred book. Did it with the book inherit also the place and use of the book ? Of such inheritance there is much evidence ; yet it was Hmited and controlled by three obvious facts. (1) Christians almost from the first gave up the observance of im- portant parts of the law. (2) Christianity ceased at the same time to be a national rehgion. Its central mystery was not Israel, but the person and work of Jesus Christ. For him, his origin, nature, destiny, the Old Testament was searched. (3) Before many genera- tions, and as a result of tendencies that go back to the first genera- tion, Christianity added the New Testament to the Old, and had a sacred book of its own. To determine the place of the book in the Christian religion we must first understand the place of the Old Testament in the rehgion of Christ himself. His attitude seems to have been on the one side that of every pious Jew, one of reverence as before the words of God. But on the other hand he neither had the scribes' training nor Uked the scribes' use of Scripture. His words and conduct as to the laws of Sabbath, 'of purification, and of temple rites, his elevation of the law of love to God and man, his polemic against Pharisaic tendencies, indicate that the Old Testament was not to him chiefly a book of law in the Jewish sense. He found in it, what he found first in his own heart, universal principles of character, rather than particular and separating rules of conduct. In spite of remaining differences of opinion among scholars, the impression grows that by the side of an unquestioned reverence there was in the attitude of Jesus toward the Old Testament an essential freedom, the range and consequence of which we need not indeed suppose him fully to have known, a freedom which belonged to the immediateness and certainty of his sense of God. But if the book did not have a legal character in his use of it, did it have the place of a revelation of mysteries ? That prophecy appealed more strongly to him than law we may well believe ; but he appears to 2. Place of the Sacred Book : Pot-ter 285 us, as to his contemporaries, rather as one of the prophets than as depending upon them for his knowledge of things unseen. That he was conscious of the likeness of his message and lot to theirs is clear, but it does not appear that he learned from them as a final source or authority the truths he taught. We are thus led back from the first and second to the third use of Scripture, and reach the conviction that Jesus' use of the Old Testament was essentially devotional, that spiritual imagination and religious feeling determined his use of the book. He seems to have found God in the book with the direct- ness and simpUcity with which he found Him also in nature and in human life. ' With aU piety toward the sanctity of the book, he observed and used throughout only that in it which answered to his own genius, and could be assimilated by it because it was related to it.' 1 But the place of the Old Testament in the religion of Jesus does not necessarily fix the place of the book in the Christian religion, for the obvious reason that this rehgion consists in an attitude toward him rather than in his attitude toward the book. The place of Christ in the Christian religion is therefore clearly the previous question. For beginning in this direction we naturally go back to Paul. But in Paul's attitude toward Christ two sides are apparent, a profound and passionate reverence and worship, and a conscious likeness to Christ, which he could only express by saying that Christ lived in him. He was a slave of Christ, and yet he was for the first time free, because of Christ, and in him Christ did not hold in his religion the place of a new law, but of a Ufe-giving spirit. Hence Paul did not feel bound to quote the words or imitate the outward ministry of Jesus. He opened new ways and uttered new thoughts with the certainty that he had the mind of Christ. In other words, Paul's attitude toward Christ was in principle hke Christ's attitude toward the Old Testament, one in which reverence and freedom were har- moniously united. The place of Christ in the rehgion of Paul was such, that he did in principle, even if not -with an equal simpKcity, imitate Christ's attitude toward the Old Testament. But even with this it is not self-evident that we are to imitate his attitude. For after Paul the sacred book of Christianity came to contain the New Testament, and our attitude toward it is therefore dependent on our attitude not only toward Christ, but toward Paul himself, and other New Testament writers. To the New Testament, and the Old interpreted by the New, Christianity has often given the place of law, and stiU more often that of a revelation of mysteries of the heavenly realm and of the past and future, which without it would be utterly unknowable. Yet ' Holtzmann. 286 VIII. The Christian Religion the history of the rise of the New Testament canon does not suggest that the book was properly the foundation of the rehgion. The place of the book would have been very different if Christ himself had written it, even if Peter had given himself the task of recording the words and deeds of his master, or if Paul had written set treatises instead of occasional letters, the book would have had a different sort of authority. These men are greater because they did not con- ceive of this as their task, and their choice of other ways of forward- ing the work of Christ makes it clear that in its real nature the new rehgion was neither a new law nor a new mystery. Its distinctive quahty appears to lie, not in the region of rules or of ideas, but rather in that of ideals and motives, felt and loved and made controlling. In reaUty, though much used as a law and a revelation, the New Testament, like the Old, has always been also a book of devotion, through which the heart has been stirred and lifted up into the presence of God. The Reformation had indeed the effect of increasing a legahstio use of the book as a substitute for the authority of the Church ; yet its most characteristic effect was its giving the Bible back to the common people, in their own tongue, with trust in its power to speak to them and in their capacity to understand it. This must be taken as a further witness to the truth that the place of the book in Christianity is not such that it requires interpretation, as does either an outward law or a source of information as to facts or doctrines, but such that it can take a hold in the experience of common people, who read it as it stands. We come now to the question, what effect historical criticism has on the place of the book in rehgion. The historical study of the Bible is simply the use of its books as historical documents ; it is the search, through the surface of the literature, for the facts below. The facts are concealed in part by ideas about them, by the interests or behefs or theories of the writers. No doubt a natural effect of historical study is therefore that one puts more value on the facts than on the records, and concludes that rehgion also should look to the facts, rather than to the faiths that have reshaped the facts, as containing God's real deeds and the means by which we are to know Him. These facts which history uncovers are regarded by some as consisting chiefly in a great development of rehgion and morals ; by others chiefly as a succession of great men. Accordingly for some the development, for others the man, constitutes the thing most important for faith. Especially strong is the present tendency to think of the Christian rehgion as the rehgion of one historical per- sonahty, and of the Bible as essentially a collection of historical documents through which this person is to be known. The teaching 2. Place of the Sacred Book : Porter 287 of Jesus is to be recovered by a critical analysis of the sources ; or the character, the personality, of Jesus is to be known by a subtler process, by criticism combined with historical tact and imagination. In either case the sacred book has the significance of a source of our knowledge of facts not otherwise to be known. This is therefore a modern form of the second of the three conceptions of the place of the book in reUgion. In this view the gospels become a Bible within the Bible, and the historical criticism of the gospels becomes almost the chief concern of religion itself. There are serious objections to this as an adequate definition of the place of the book in the Christian religion. It would seem to take the book from the common people and put it into the hands of historical scholars, since they alone can understand it. But this is contrary to the spirit of Christianity, and to the origin and purpose of the Bibhcal books. Further, an inevitable uncertainty belongs to the results of historical research, greater perhaps when a development is made out, but still great when a personality is to be understood. In fact peculiar difficulties stand in the way of making a knowledge of the historical Jesus the chief or only reUgious value of the sacred book. The gospels, it may be urged, do not allow us to reach certainty as to just what Jesus said and thought. Some things that he seems to have said have value for his place and time rather than for ours. And again some things not said or thought by him, but first by Paul or John or even later, have the Christian quahty and a permanent value for the Christian reHgion. I would therefore raise the question whether the use of the sacred book as the source of our knowledge of facts and persons should not be supplemented by a simpler and more direct use of the book as it is, by a more emotional appreciation of its quahties as a book, and a more inward response to the spirit that moves in it. This may seem to present a point of view out of place in a Congress of the History of Religions ; yet I venture to think that as historians it is important for us to reflect upon the ultimate significance of historical studies, and to define the limits within which they should claim to determine the reUgious use of the Bible. The third use of the book, then, the devotional, a use centreing in rehgious feeling and spiritual imagination, needs, I think, to be reaffirmed. The Bible remains a book, after, as before, the historian's search for its origins and for the facts that he behind it ; and as a book it possesses certain quahties and powers. Literary criticism proper, in distinction from historical criticism, is an attempt to answer the question, what gives a book permanent power ? what is the secret and nature of greatness in books ? Great books are known to be great by their effects ; and these have never been better described than 288 VIII. The Christian Religion by Longinus, who reduces them to two, ecstasy and wonder. A great book transports us ; it so carries us away that we are filled with joy, as if we had ourselves produced what we read. It is ecstasy rather than persuasion, an emotional rather than an intellectual effect, that the great book produces ; and it does so not only by the greatness of its thoughts, but also by the passion which creates for the thoughts wonderful words, especially words concrete and boldly figurative in character. Further this transport lifts the reader even above what is said, and sends the mind on to further reflections of its own. But this freedom and exultation are always properly accompanied by wonder at the power that so uphfts us and imparts itself to us. To render the tribute of wonder to what is truly great, as to something divine, is the highest capacity of human nature. Now no one can fail to see the close paraUehsm between this description of the proper effect of greatness in books and the effects which we have seen that the Old Testament produced upon Jesus, and the impression which Jesus made upon Paul. Freedom and reverence, the sense that the book is our own, that it carries us up to itself and sends us on beyond itself, and reverence which grows with the freedom, are the due and natural response of our minds to great books. But are we justified in describing in any such terms the effects of the Bible upon Christian people ? It is for the sake of urging the importance of considering this question rather than with the hope of answering it, that this paper is presented. I beheve that the -way is prepared for such a view and use of the book by the example of Jesus and of Paul, and by the principle of the Reformation. I think it evident that it is as a book that the Bible has had its greatest value for reUgion in the past. And I would venture to urge that students of the book should add to their historical criticism, Uterary criticism in the proper sense of that phrase, the effort to appreciate those qualities of the book as it is which have given it power, and to analyse those effects which have proved it great. The question. Shall we understand the Bible ? has been effectively used as a justification of historical criticism ; but there is another even more important question to which historical science does not furnish the answer. Shall we enjoy the Bible ? I find more help in answering this question in Aristotle's Poetics and in Wordsworth's Prefaces than in the writings either of theologians or of historians. The question becomes for us specifically one as to the relation between historic fact and poetic truth in the Bible. The study of this question leads to a re-examination of those upper surfaces which as historical critics we remove in order to uncover the facts, and to a discrimination between the more theoretical and the more emotional and imaginative coverings with which the facts are over- laid. In some places we shall find the historian correcting imperfect 2. Place of the Sacred Book : Porter 289 chronicles, but in others rather spoiling poetic beauties. Sometimes his movement is upward from theory to fact, but sometimes down- ward from truth to fact. That in many parts of the Bible historic facts or traditions have become symbols of eternal truths and ideals, in other words that in many parts of the book the value of the record is greater than that of the facts, is self-evident ; yet the book has not been seriously enough treated as having the character of an idealizing literature. The question of the place of the book in the Christian religion, it is clearly recognized, leads back to the general question of the present religious significance of past facts and persons ; but it is not enough recognized that this is at least as much a literary as a philosophical question, and that the faith and the passion that have made the facts the embodiment of ideals, are not to be regarded chiefly as veils that obscure the facts. The place of the sacred book in the Christian religion has been and must in the end be fixed by what can only be called, in the highest sense of that word, its poetic quality, by the maiversal truths which it so pictures that they are ' carried alive into the heart by passion ', not by the particular facts which it enables us to know. Now the use of the Bible as, in this highest sense, a poetical Utera- ture, will at first seem to believers in the Christian religion easier in the case of the Old Testament than in the New, and hardest, if indeed applicable at aU, in the case of the Gospels. Here the difficulty of considering the question of a distinction between poetic truth and historic fact may seem unsiu-mountable. It is indeed great, and is not lessened by the consideration that the problem is not to deter- mine the place and use of the gospels which we may ourselves prefer, but to explain the secret and nature of the religious power which on the whole these books have actually exerted. This apphcation of the distinction is so hard, and yet so necessary if the proposal to define the place of the sacred book in Christianity by its help is to justify itself, that I should not have thought it worth while to present this suggestion here in such general terms, if it were not that I hope before long to put it forth in greater detail. I may be permitted to add a few words in its favour. At no point does historical study seem more seriously to disturb the place of the book in the Christian reUgion than in the criticism of the gospels. Two methods of adjustment have been proposed, one by means of history itself, the other more philosophical in character ; or perhaps I should say, one resting on the conception of personality, the other on that of development, as the decisive factor in history. One seeks to prove that there is in the gospels something which can be accepted as certain historical fact, either as a result of historical research, or as in some way independent of research, namely, the 290 VIII. The Christian Religion inner life or personality of Jesus of Nazareth ; and that the gospels furnish the means by which we may experience this person, both as an historical fact and as a religious power. The other maintains that we may freely yield to the insoluble difficulties of gospel criticism, because the Christian religion does not consist in an attitude toward the historical Jesus, but in the acceptance of the Christian ideal or principle, which only took its start in him, but is to be known even more fully in its later developments, and can be experienced as a present reality. The chief objections urged against the first view are that, if criticism renders details in the gospels insecure, the total impression, the character or inner life of Jesus, cannot have the sort of certainty which faith requires ; and that in any case an historical person cannot be the object of present faith. The main objection to the second view is that actual Christian experience, past and present, centres in the person of Jesus Christ and not in an abstract ideal. No one, I think, can fail to feel the greatness of the problem presented by this well-known division in the ranks of liberal or historical theo- logians. May not help toward a,n understanding come from the recognition that the question of the place even of the gospels in actual Christian experience is not only, and perhaps not primarily, a question of past historical fact, or of permanent historical forces and processes, but also of the power of the mind to clothe its deepest feelings and highest apprehensions of truth, its most living sense of God and the unseen world, in concrete narratives or pictures, and that, whatever their precise relation to fact, these pictures, in any case, have their real significance as the language of faith and emotion, in their transforma- tion of things seen into symbols of things unseen and eternal. CHRIST'S DESCENT INTO HELL By FRIEDRICH LOOFS When in this congress I undertake to speak of Christ's ' Descent to Hell ', you will think that I intend to explain the origin of this idea from parallels in religious history. The assertion that the descent- idea has its origin in mythological influences is now not unheard of : in Germany Pfleiderer,i Bousset ^ and others have defended it, in ' 0. Pfleiderer, Das Christusbild des urchrisUichen Olaubens in rdigionsgeschicht- licher Beleuchiung, Berlin, 1903, pp. 65-71. • W. Bousset, HaupiproWeme der Gnosis, Gottingen, 1907, pp. 255-60. 3. Chrisfs Descent into Hell: JLoofs 291 England one of the best known teachers of this University .1 But I have in view just the contrary.. I wish to point out that the idea of the descent is a primitive Christian idea, which has no relation whatever with the alleged parallels of other religions. For this purpose I will trace back the history of the descent-idea by five steps, the first of which will be from our own time to the middle ages. It sounds very mythical, to be sure, when we are taught that 'it is to be beheved, that Christ went down into hell '.^ And the Lutheran conception of this portion of the Creed, which more than others does justice to its present text, is in fact in no way derived from the New Testament. 'The entire Christ, God and man' — so teaches the J'orwiMJa Concordiae^ — 'after His burial descended to hell, overcame the devil, destroyed the power of heU, and deprived the devil of all his prestige.' But this conception of the descent is nothing but a foolish dogmatizing of some of Luther's picturesque expressions. Luther himself, in the sermon to which the Formula Concordiae refers, says : ' Bodily it did not happen so, because Christ remained in the grave the three days.' * ' But,' so he adds, ' I am pleased with what is painted : that Christ descends with banner in hand, comes to hell, smites the devil and expels him, storms hell and rescues His own.' * 'Thus the people would be led to beheve that Christ has released us from hell.' * Therefore the conception of the Formula Concordiae is really based upon mediaeval pictures of the descent to hell. We have them still in great number to-day.' Two distinct things are here represented : the releasing of the Old Testament saints from the forecourt of hell, and the victory over the devil. This releasing of the Old Testament saints had no place in Luther's thoughts : he considered Adam a Christian * because of his belief in the promise, and therefore the lot of the Old Testament saints after death was to him no other than that of Christians. Consequently only the victory over the devil remained for him, and for the forecourt of hell was substituted the • Percy Gardner, Ex'ploratio Evangdica, 2nd edit., London, 1907, pp. 263-74. " Thirty-nine Articles, art. 3. ' Art. 9 ; Die symbolischen BUcher der evangelisch-liUhenschen Kirche, ed. J. T. Miiller, Stereotyp-Ausgabe, p. 696. ' Sermon preached at Torgau, 1533, Luther's Werlce, Erlanger Ausg., Deutsche .Schriften, 19 *, 41 ; cf . F. Loofs, Leitfaden zum Stvdium der Dogmengeschichte, 4. Aufl., HaUe, 1906, p. 779. ' Ibid. • Ibid., and p. 45. ' Some examples are given by J. Monnier, La descerUe aux enfers, Etude de penaee rdigieuse, d'art et de litterature, Paris, 1905, pp. 193-209. • Cf. e.g. Predigten uber das 1. Buch Moais, Weim. Ausg., 24, 99 sq.; Erl. Ausg., JDeutBohe Schriften, 33, 99. u 2 292 nil. The Christian Religion very hell itself, the fortress of the devil. This conception of the descent may remind us of old myths ; but that its origin was influenced by myths cannot be said. And now the second step. How are we to explain the origin of the paintings referred to by Luther, and of the Roman Catholic con- ception expressed by them ? There can be no doubt that the fancy of the mediaeval painters and theologians arose from the so-called ' Grospel of Nicodemus '} an a'pocrypkon perhaps of the fourth century which was widespread in the middle ages. It relates with dramatic vividness how Christ after His death descended into Hades, released the Old Testament saints, who greeted Him with joy, but chained the devil (who wished to see Him retained there) and thrust him into Tartarus.^ Here also the later tradition does not exactly agree with the earlier. In the gospel of Nicodemus the scene is the Hades, expressly distinguished from Tartarus, and the chief feature is the releasing of the Old Testament saints, the subjection of Satan being only an accompanying incident. To mediaeval theologians, and still more in the popular belief, it was hell to which Christ descended. It is true, the theologians declared that it was not the very infenms damnatorum to which Christ descended, but the forecourt, the limbo, where the Old Testament fathers dwelt .^ But many of the pictures have as their scene Satan's fortress, even the jaws of hell,* and the victory over the devil comes already more into the foreground here than it did in the gospel of Nicodemus. In the pictures we can see also a mythical element, especially in those details which are not found in the gospel of Nicodemus ; but, nevertheless, mythological influences were at work only remotely. In every particular, it is true, the process by which the Hades of the ancients became the hell of the middle ages has not yet been fully investigated. But it is probable that some well-known passages of Scripture — ^for example, the parable of the rich man and Lazarus,* and Christ's utterance about the strong man armed who is overcome by a stronger,^ — the crude realism of popular imagination, and the one devil in the gospel of Nicodemus, who here also ' took with him seven and more other devils',' had a greater part in this develop- ment than did mythological influences. * More exactly, the second part of this gospel ; Evangdia a/pocrypha, ed. C. von Tischendorf, ed. sec, Leipzig, 1876, pp. 322 sq. (Greek text) and pp. 389 sq. (Latin texts). ' Ibid., Greek text, c. 6, p. 329, Latin text B, c. 8, p. 429 ; differently related in Latin text A, c. 6, p. 400 ('tradidit eum inferi poteatati'). ' Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theol. iii. 52. 2. ' See e.g. Monnier, fig. 6 (p. 204). ' a. Luke xvi. 23 sq. • Luke xi. 21 sq. » Cf. Luke xi. 26. 3. Chrisfs Descent into Hell: Loqfs 293 Now by a third step I come to the source of the mediaeval idea, the gospel of Nicodemus. Have mythological influences here been a creative factor ? On the contrary we may again refer to an older Chris- tian tradition. In proving this I will not enter upon the history of the Apostles' Creed. One knows that in the Creed the words descendit ad inferna cannot be traced back much beyond Rufinus.^ But the idea itself is much older. In our review of its earlier history we must first pause in the second half of the second century. At that time a conception of the descent was prevalent in the Church, of which the story of the Nicodemus gospel was without any doubt a further development. Irenaeus speaks often of the descent, and no less than six times ^ cites a prophecy purporting to be from Jeremiah, which determined his conception. ' The Lord, the Holy One of Israel ' — so reads the prophecy — ' remembered his saints, who slept in the realm of the tombs, and descended unto them to preach his salvation, in order to save them.' ^ Tertullian thinks likewise concerning the descent ; * while Justin knows the prophecy of Jeremiah quoted by Irenaeus, for he says that it was expurgated by the Jews.^ In Clement of Alexandria also we find a similar conception of the descent,* and even Celsus, the pagan controversialist, is acquainted with this Christian idea.'' Comparing this conception of the descent with that of the Nicodemus gospel we discover this important difference : no mention here is made of the victory over Satan in connexion with the descent, the only meaning of the descent-idea being that Christ, like all the dead, went down to Hades and there imparted His salvation to the Old Testament saints. Again, it is undeniable that the additions in the gospel of Nicodemus increase the similarity to mythical thoughts. But equally I assert that the account in Nicodemus is not rooted in mythical ideas. The Epistle to the Hebrews says that Christ ' through death destroyed him, who had the power of death, that is the devil '.* ' Cf. F. Kattenbusch, Das apostolisehe Symbol, ii, Leipzig, 1900, pp. 895 sq. ; F. Loofs, Symbolik, i, Tiibingen u. Leipzig, 1902, p. 41. ' Adv. Haer. iii. 20. 4 (Massuet), ii. 108 (Harvey) ; iv. 22. 1, ii. 228 ; iv. 33. 1, ii. 256 ; iv. 33. 12, ii. 267; v. 31. 1, ii. 411 ; and once in the d7r<58fi|w recently discovered (Texte und Untersuchungen, ed. Hamack u. Schmidt, xxx. 1, Leipzig, 1907, p. 42). ' Irenaeus, adv. Haer. iii. 20. 4, ii. 108 ; comp. A. Resch, Aussercanoniache Paralldiexte zu den Mvangelien (Texte und Untersuchungen, ed. Hamack und V. Gebhardt, x. 1 and 2, Leipzig, 1893-94), pp. 372 sq. • de Anima, 7 and 55, ed. Oehler, ed. min., pp. 1008 and 1071 ; cf. F. Katten- busch, Das apostolisehe Symbol, ii, pp. 902 sq. ' Dialog. 72, ed. Otto, ii. 260. ' Stromata, vi. 6. 44-46, ed. O. Stahlin, pp. 453 sq. ' Orig. c. Celsum, ii. 43, ed. Koetschau, i. 166. ' Heb. ii, 14. 294 VIII. The Christian Religion Is it not, therefore, intelligible that in the gospel of Nicodemus, as elsewhere in the literature of the third and fourth centuries ,i the idea of the vanquished devil, so often expressed in the New Testa- ment, is combined with the releasing of the Old Testament saints ? For the explanation of this we have no need of the comparative study of religions. But do we need it — now I make the fourth step — to make intel- ligible the origin of the more simple descent-idea prevalent about 180 ? Whence did this arise ? Certainly not from the New Testament — that is the first answer which must be given. There are two familiar passages in the New Testament which for centuries, though not universally, were explained as referring to the descent — 1 Pet. iii. 19 sq. : ' by which (viz. the spirit) also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison, which sometime were disobedient, when once the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah ' ; and iv. 6 : ' for this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit.' Till the present day it is disputed whether these passages must be interpreted as references to the descent.* I think they should not. But I may leave this question undecided. For one thing is certain : the descent-idea prevalent about 180 is not traceable to any of these Petrine passages.^ For the first speaks of an announcement to those who sometime were disobedient, but the Church about 180 connected with the descent only the preaching to the Old Testament saints. And the second passage speaks of a message to those who afterwards were judged in the flesh; but the Old Testament saints received their judgement, viz. death, before they had the gospel brought to them. Also before Clement of Alexan- dria, who in discussing the descent alludes somewhat vaguely to 1 Pet. iii. 19 sq.,* there is no mention whatever of these Petrine passages in connexion with the descent-idea. Irenaeus too, although " Cf. e. g. Origen, in Gen. Horn. 17. 6, ed. Lommatzsch, viii. 290 ' rediens ab inferis et ascendens in altum captivam duxit captivitatem. Hoc ergo modo et in sonrno suo leo fuit, vincens omnia et debellans et destruxit eum, qui habebat mortis imperium, et velut catulus leonia die tertia susoitatur.' ' Cf. C. Clemen, Niedergefahren zu den Toten, Giessen, 1900, pp. 115 sq., and the latest discussion of the subject by H. Holtzmann in the Archiv fur Religions- wisstnschaft, ed. A. Dieterioh, xi, 1908, pp. 285 sq. ' That was asserted rightly by Theodor Zahn forty years ago (Der Hirt des Hermas, Gotha, 1868, pp. 425 sq.). When Bousset states that the later (post- apostolic) conception of the descent in general was determined by 1 Peter iii. 19 sq. {Hmtptprobleme der Gnosis, Gottingen, 1907, p. 256), then he asserts without proof things which cannot be proved, but which also are evidently false. * Strom, vi. 6. 45. 4. 3. C/irisfs Descent into Hell: Loofs 295 he regards 1 Pet. as Petrine/ makes no use of these passages when collecting evidence for the descent.^ These Petrine passages, if they refer to the descent, must be considered as witnesses to a peculiar conception of it which had no tradition in the old Church. No other passage which could be held as the source of the descent-idea pre- valent about 180, can be found in the New Testament. Therefore it might be possible to trace back the idea to the religious syncretism of the second century, if we could not show that the idea rests upon older Christian tradition. In the West, it is true, the idea of Christ's preaching in Hades had no older history. For Hermas (about 140) makes the Old Testament saints acquainted with the name of the Son of God through the Apostles, not Christ, preaching in Hades.^ Hence it must be con- cluded that he knew nothing of Christ's preaching in Hades. But in other places we find this idea. Justin knew it, as we have seen ; but since he did not grasp the difference between the Old and the New Testament, and since he regarded as Christians even some of the Greek philosophers because 'they lived with the logos',* he could not have originated the idea that a message of Christ was necessary for the Old Testament saints. Probably he brought it with him out of Asia Minor, where he was baptized. Here in Asia Minor the existence of the idea is evident also from the fact that Irenaeus for his conception of the descent quotes as authority one of the 'presbjrters',^ that is to say, one of the older Christians of his native country. This presbyter, I consider, cannot have written much before 150, because he was an opponent of Marcion.* By Marcion again we are led a step farther. He believed, as Irenaeus relates, that Christ descending to Hades won by His preaching Cain and others like him, the Sodomites, •Egyptians, and people of that kind, and multitudes of other pagans,, while Abel and Enoch, Noah, Abraham, the patriarchs and prophets, did not receive His message, thinking their God was trying them once again.'' This belief of Marcion obviously is a complete reversal of the idea that Christ released the saints of the Old Testament, and proves that he was familiar with the idea, which he reversed. He must, surely, have made its acquaintance, before becoming a heretic ; in his native country, Asia Minor. There, indeed, we meet the idea long before Marcion. For it was known to Ignatius of / Of. adv. Haer. iv. 9. 2, ii. 170. '' Cf. adv. Haer. v. 31, ii. 411 sq. " Simil. ix. 16. 5. * Apol. i. 46. ed. Otto, i. 128. ' Adv. Haer. iv. 27. 2, ii. 241. ' Cf. A. Hamaok, Die Ghronologie der dtckristlichen Litteratur, i, Leipzig, 1897, pp. 338 sq. ' Irenaeus, adv. Haer. i. 27. 3, i. 218 sq. 296 VIII. The Christian Religion Antioch, who wrote in Asia Minor and very probably had earlier rela- tions with that country .1 He says of the prophets, that they were disciples of Christ and expected Him as their teacher, through the Spirit ; ' and for this cause,' Ignatius adds, ' He whom they rightly awaited, when He came, raised them from the dead.' ^ In another place he calls the prophets 'approved by Jesus Christ and numbered together in the gospel of our common hope.' * The same thoughts probably are in the background, when Ignatius characterizes Christ as ' the door of the Father, through which Abraham and Isaac and Jacob enter in and the prophets and the Apostles and the whole Church'.* Evidently here we have a conception of the descent similar to that which was prevalent in the Church about 180. Nevertheless, the Ignatian conception has its peculiarity, at least in comparison with that of Irenaeus and Tertullian. TertuUian^ says clearly that heaven is shut so long as the earth stands.^ All the dead dwell in the intermediate realm, and aU people, Christians and others alike, descend into Hades after death ; only the souls of martyrs come immediately to paradise.' There Ter- tuUian presupposes also the presence of the souls of the released Old Testament saints.* Irenaeus, who as regards the eschatology had not mastered the different traditions brought down to him, held essentially the same opinion.* Yet apparently he thought of the irvfv iMTo^opoi (that is the spirit-bearers, namely the martyrs and the most perfect Christians) after death not simply as spirits, as Tertullian, but — ^probably basing his theory on 2 Cor. v. 1 sq. — as clothed with intermediate bodies.'^*' Now from Ignatius we hear, that Christ raised ' Cf. E. V. d. Goltz, Ignatius von Antiochien als Christ und Theologe (Texte iind Untersuohungen von Harnack und von Gebhardt, xii. 3, Leipzig, 1894), pp. 174Bq., and F. Loofs, Leitfaden zum Studium der DogmengescMchte, 4. Aufl., Halle, 1906, p. 102, note 10. ' Magn. 9. 2 irapav jjyeipev avToiis ix veKpmv. » Philaddph. 5. 2. • Ibid. 9. 1. ° Cf . P. Kattenbusch, Dds apostdische Symbol, ii. 902 sq. ; L. Atzberger, Oeschichie der chrisUichen Esohatologie innerhalh der vornieSnischen Zeit, Freiburg i. B., 1896, pp. 301 sq. ' de Anima, 65, p. 1071 'nuUi patet caelum terra adhuc salva'. ' de Besurr. Carnis, 43, p. 973 'nemo enim peregrinatus a corpore statim immoratur penes Dominum nisi ex martyrii praerogativa, paradise scilicet, non inferis diversurus '. ' de Anima, 55, p. 1071 ' in paradiso, quo iam tunc patriarchae et propheta« appendices dominicae resuirectionis migraverunt' ; cf. Apolog. 47, p. 145 'si paradisum nominemus, locum divinae amoenitatis recipiendis sanctorum spirilXbus destinatum '. ' Cf. Atzberger, 1. c, pp. 238 sq. adv. Haer. v. 5. 1, iL 330, Enoch is called rrjv fixTaSeaiv tS>v SiKaiav iit]viav and Elias tijh araXi^i/ru/ tu>v irvfypariKav TrptxfiijTciiov. 3. Chrisfs Descent into Hell: Loofs 297 the prophets from the dead.^ This same term is used in the passage quoted by Eusebius from the Ads of Thaddaeus, written about 250. Here it is said of Christ : ' He was crucified and descended into Hades and raised some of the dead ; thus He descended alone, but ascended to His father with a great people.' ^ Also in the gospel of Nicodemus we are told that Christ seized the first parent Adam by the hand and raised him.' That this raising (iyeipuv) must be interpreted as a bodily resuscitation anticipating the resurrection of the flesh * I cannot believe.* It means, at least in Ignatius, only this, that Jesus imparted to the prophets, held in captivity by death, His eternal life. Details are not given by Ignatius ; hence we cannot decide whether he took into account the souls only, as TertuUian, or whether, as Irenaeus, he thought that the raised saints possessed intermediate bodies. But the idea itseK may be explained by an analogy. For himself, that is, Ignatius does not expect a sojourn in Hades ; for he hopes after death to ' attain unto God ', to be with the Lord.* Now we cannot imagine that Ignatius, since he was far from considering himself more perfect than other Christians, looked forward for himself, as a martyr, to a lot which he held to be unattainable for others. Therefore he must have supposed that aU Christians, though they wiU experience the resurrection of the flesh only at the end of all things, do not fall into the captivity of death, that is in Hades, but through the door of death will enter eternal Ufe. That which the Christians experience imme- diately after death, according to Ignatius apparently was imparted to the Old Testament saints by the descent of Christ. In TertuUian, and less clearly also in Irenaeus, paradise is a better section of the intermediate realm, the Hades of the most pious;'' in Ignatius, how- ever, the Christians and the released Old Testament saints have nothing to do with Hades : for the Old Testament saints are awakened from the sleep of death, and the Christians in Christ have a life of which they never shall be deprived.* The Ignatian conception certainly is the more original. First because it was still extant in the Church in the time of Irenaeus and ^ Magn. 9. 2. " Eusebius, H. E. i. 13. 20, ed. C. Schwartz, i. 96. ' 0. 8, p. 330. * That is the meaning of Th. Zahn {Ignatius von Antiochien, Gotha, 1873, pp. 598 sq.). ' What the gospel of Nicodemus tells of the malefactor (c. x, p. 331) is a reason for the contrary. • ad Bom. ii. 1, 2 ; vi. 1, 2 ; vii. 2 ; ad Polyc. f. la. o; of. v. d. Goltz, pp. 37- 41. ' Cf . Atzberger, pp. 302 sq., and 244 sq.; Kattenbusch, Das apost. Symbol, ii 906. 'Ci.ad Eph. iii. 2 'Iwo^s XptorcSr, to diiaKpirov fiii&v (rjv. 298 VIII. The Christian Religion Tertullian as an idea which they opposed.^ Also it shines through the later conceptions ^ and, in spite of Irenaeus and TertuUian, to some degree held its own in the Church. For, although the conceptions of an intermediate reahn in Irenaeua and Tertullian, when earnestly- thought out, would have degraded the release of the Old Testament saints from Hades to simply an elevation from a lower to a higher place in Hades— yet they have not hindered posterity, nor entirely Irenaeus himself .^ from thinking that the Old Testament saints and the best of the deceased Christians were already, before the end of the world, in heaven in the society of God* Further, the idea that the martyrs and the other spirit-bearers were destined to enjoy after death a different lot from the common Christians is evidently a modi- fication of earher and bolder hopes. For in the idealistic view of the primaeval age all Christians were regarded as spirit-bearers. When we now ask, what has caused the modification of the descent- idea in Irenaeus and Tertulhan, we may indeed point to mjrthical tra- ditions ; but not to mythical traditions from the Far East. It is the Greek Hades-idea which caused that modification directly, and indirectly late Jewish apocalyptic views. But here too the mytho- logical influence was not the only determining factor. The situation in the Church which did not allow all Christians to be considered as spiritual and fit for the Lord's society, had its share in the development. Now by a fifth step I come to the last question. How does the Ignatian conception stand ? Was it at least originated by mythological influences ? As before we must ask if this descent-idea can be traced back further in the Church. Many things indicate that it can. First, Ignatius did not teach the matter, but presupposes it as well known. Then, too, we cannot separate from his conception of the descent the steadfast idealism of the primitive age which considered all Christians as fit for the society of Christ. Finally, the whole idea shows a genuine Palestinian-Christian colour. For till Clement of Alexandria, whb gives to pagans also the benefit of the preaching in Hades, — if not Christ's, at anyrate that of the Apostles,* — in the Church only a release * Tertullian, de Anima, 65, p. 1071, refutes those who say : ' in hoc Christus inferos adiit', ne noa adiremus. ceterum quod discrimen ethnicorum et Chri- stianorum, si career mortuis idem ? ' And Irenaeus {adv. Haer. v. 31) resists orthodox Christians, who assert, ' interioreni bominem ipsorum derelinquentem hio corpus in supercoelestem asoendere locum.' Cf. Kattenbusoh, Das apost. Symbol, ii. 902 sq. * That the Old Testament saints ascended with the Lord continues to be said ; cf. Tertullian, de Anima, 55 above, p. 36, note 8, and Acta Thaddaei above, p. 37. Now the Lord is in heaven, not ' only in paradise '. ' adv. Haer. iv. 33. 9, ii. 263 ' ecolesia . . . multitudinem martyrum . . . prae- mittit ad patrem'. * Cf. the catholic doctrine. ° Strom, vii. 6. 45, 4. 3. Christ's Descent into Hell: Loofs 299 of the Old Testament saints was derived from the descent. Clear evidences of Christ's preaching in Hades, it is true, are not to be found before Ignatius. Nevertheless I think that the existence of this idea even before his time can be proved. I wish to prove it from three sources. In Asia Minor we have found so far the oldest traces of the descent- idea. Now does the idea appear also in the Johannine books, which are certainly, whoever wrote them, the basis of Asia Minor's theology ? I think it does. It is intimated in Rev. i. 18 : 'I was dead, and behold I am alive for evermore, and have the keys of hell and of death.' Also the fourth gospel in my opinion is acquainted with the idea. The much-disputed passage, viii. 56 : ' Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day ; and he saw it and was glad ', is sufficiently cleared up, if ' he saw it and was glad ' is interpreted as having happened at the descent of Christ. The words then as words of Christ imply, of course, a strong anachronism. But without the supposition of an analogous anachronism John vi also cannot be imderstood. The second passage, which seems to me important, is Matt, xxvii. 51 sq. : ' the earth did quake and the rocks rent, and the graves were opened ; and many bodies of the saints, which slept, arose and came out of the graves after his resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared unto many.' The origin of this legend must be explained. The hypothesis that originally only the fact of the earth- quake and the opening of the graves, which resulted from it, was related, and that the story of the risen saints resulted from the opened graves,^ seems to me scarcely plausible ; for the ideas of the opened graves and of the resurrection of the saints are connected together in the tradition. The simplest explanation in my opinion is the sup- position that in Matt, xxvii. 51 sq. we have an incomplete and coarse reminiscence of the descent-story. StiU more firmly am I convinced that the Epistle to the Hebrews is aware of the descent-idea. It says (xi. 39 sq.) concerning the Old Testament saints, who are cited as examples of faith : ' These all having obtained a good report through faith received not the promise, God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect.' In chapter xii, however, we find it sup- posed that included in the heavenly Zi on, besides the Chiu^ch of the first- bom, are the spirits of just men made perfect.^ Certainly here the Old Testament saints must be included. This imphes that the Holy of Hohes must have been opened to them,* and only Christ could have ■ ' Of. the commentary of H. A. W. Meyer. • xii. 22 sq. ' Cf. ix. 8 TOVTo brjKovvTos Tov TTveifiaTos ToC aylov, /iijfrm ■Ke^avepuKTBai, ttjv tUv uyicov oBov eri ttJs TTpa>Trjs (T/ojfijs exovaris 6ri els aSr/v. " Eph. iv. 9 ^o 8e ave^rj ri iariv n fifj on Kal KaTe^i] els ra KaraiTepa fieptj t^e yrjs I Rom. X, 7 '■'s KaTafirjaeTai els ttjv a^vaaov ; tout' euTi XpicToo ex veKpav dva- yayelv, " Matt. xii. 40. 3. Chrisfs Descent into Hell: Loofs 301 that whoever beheve in Christ should never die,^ then they would hardly think that the holy fathers were still held in death. Now Christ descended where they were ; and thus the idea was suggested that He had brought them thence with Him. The descent-idea is a primitive Christian idea, grown up in ancient Palestinian soil ; and, although limited thereby in its horizon, must be considered as an expression of faith in the absoluteness of Christianity, — as a counterpart of the Hellenistic-Christian idea of the Xdyos (rmpiianKos. The syncretism of the time has influenced in detail its later develop- ment, but not its origin. The contrary rather is probable. The descent-conception is one of those primitive Christian ideas which have fostered the growth of a Christian syncretism. In order to understand this, we need only see what use the gnostic Theodotus made of the descent-idea. ' The Saviour ' — so he wrote — ' when descend- ing (viz. from heaven), is seen by the angels, and so they also preached Him. Also He is seen by Abraham and the other just men in the place of rest at the right hand. For it is written : " he rejoiced to see my day," that is His appearance in the flesh. Hence when He had arisen, the Lord preached to the just who were in the place of rest, and transferred them and translated them ; and aU shall Uve in His shadow.' ^ Oriental myths of a Saviour who descended from heaven, are now held by many scholars to be important for the origination of the Gnosis. I do not object to that. But we must not forget that also the descent-idea offered points of departure. Eph. iv. 9, and specially what the Epistle to the Hebrews says concerning the consecration of a new and living way to eternity, in which Christ, as our forerunner, preceded us, — all this offers parallels to gnostic ideas, which are more persuasive than all alleged mythical parallels to the descent-idea. 4 LES CHRETIENS D'ANTINOE Par E. GUIMET. (Resume) Paemi les nombreuses momies qui ont ete mises au jour par les fouilles pratiquees depuis douze ans dans la viUe Egypto-Romaine d'Antinoe, plusieurs etaient omees des portraits des defunts. C'etait une survivance de I'idee du support du dovhle. L'image du mort devait ' John xi. 26. To Jewish thoughts this was the same as 'shall not come into Hades ' (cf. Acts ii. 29). ' Clement Alex. Excerpta ex Theodoto.lS, ed. Dindorf, iii. 432. 302 VIII. The Christian Religion retenir son ame {ka [_j). Ces portraits sont tantot model^s en platre et appliques sur le cadavre, tantot peints sur la toile stuquee qui entourait la momie. On representait non seulement la figure, mais aussi la poitrine et les mains munies d'attributs religieux ou faisant des gestes symboliques. Get usage a ete pratique vraisemblablement du n^e au ivme si^cle, au moment ou le christianisme penetrait en Egypte, et I'int^ret que presentent ces images pleines d'une vie intense est augmente par les renseignements qu'elles peuvent nous donner siir les croyances, a ce moment, des riches habitants de la ville Hadrienne. On a pu sans trop de diificultes olasser chronologiquement les personnages exhumes avant I'epoque des portraits, les cadavres ont encore I'aspect des momies de I'Ancienne Egypte ; les dieux des bords du Nil sont representes sur les enveloppes avec leurs titres, on voit les quatre genies funeraires designes en egyptien, seulement I'usage des hiero- gljrphes n'est plus qu'une tradition ; le peintre qui peut copier les anciens rituels n' arrive pas a 6crire le nom du defunt ; le sarcophage reste anonyms. Apres I'epoque des portraits les morts sont enterres vetus et en- veloppes de nombreux linceuls richement tiss^s. Les ornements symboliques qui parent ces etoffes devraient nous guider pour deter- miner la foi de ceux qui les portaient, mais ils peuvent aussi nous egarer ; car au milieu des arbres de vie, des swasticas, des fleurs cruciformes, des colombes, des paons, des anges ailes, le repertoire palen persists. Ainsi la dame Sabina etait chretienne comme I'in- diquent un poisson d'ivoire et un vase de verre orne d'une croix avec a et ' firmly persuaded of the imminent dissolution of the world and all things in it, frame an ethical code adequate for all time ? ' * The answer to this question is in the unwavering declaration of Schweitzer : ' It is altogether false to afl&rm, with modern theology, that service is ' Garrod, op. cit., p. 65. ^ Ghristenthum der ersten drei Jahrhunderte, 1860, p. 35. ' Die sitttichen Weisungen Jesu, 1904, p. 29. * Garrod, op. cit., pp. 60, 61. 6. N. T. Eschatology and N. T. Ethics : Peabody 309 the new ethics of the kingdom. There is, to Jesus, no ethics of the kingdom ; for in the kingdom all natural conditions, even differences of sex,i are to disappear. Temptation and sin will no more exist. . . . Service, humihty, temptation, willingness to die, even penitence, belong to an interim-ethics.' ^ When, however, we turn with this problem to the Gk)spels them- selves, and set side by side with each other the eschatological dream and the ethical teaching, it seems not too much to say that at many points they do not match. The practical instructions of Jesus for the conduct of lite do not easily fit in as a whole with the plot of the apocalyptic drama. Many passages there are undoubtedly which touch the anticipatory and millennial note, and some which strike that note firmly and unmistakably. If one fixes his attention on single passages, or on a single group of passages, he may easily conclude, with Tolstoi, that the essence of the Grospel is in the single virtue of non-resistance, or, with Schweitzer, that it is in the single idea of eschatology. When, however, we recall the prevailing tone of ethical teaching, and still more the habitual attitude of the Teacher toward the world in which He found Himself, it is difficult to see in it a pre- dominating quality of indifference to the world's affairs or a complete preoccupation with a supernatural catastrophe. On the contrary, the ethics of Jesus exhibit on the whole a kind of sanity, universality, and applicabihty, which are independent of abnormal circumstances, and free from emotional strain. There is nothing apocalyptic in the parable of the Good Samaritan, or in the appropriation by Jesus of the two great commandments, or in the prayer for to-day's bread and the forgiveness of trespasses, or in the praise of peace-making and purity of heart. Yet in these, and not in the mysterious prophecies of an approaching desolation, the conscience of the world has found its Counsellor and Guide. The apocalyptic anticipations find their parallels in much of the contemporary literature, but the ethical sagacity and sufficiency are original and unique. The same genuine concern for the existing world is indicated even in the teaching of Jesus concerning the Kingdom of God. Here, no doubt, His message is often coloured by the sunset-splendour of the End of the Age ; but it is not less often set in the prosaic fight of common day. The kingdom is prepared, not for those only who have dismissed from concern the obfigations of daily fife and have fixed their eyes on a supernatural future, but for those who, in the world as it is, feed the hungry and clothe the naked and visit those who are sick or in prison. Whatever millennial promises may be comprehended in the message of the kingdom, the teaching of Jesus seems quite as often a warning against excessive contemplation of a supernatural consummation and » Mark x. 25, 26. ' Op. cit., p. 362. 310 VIII. The Christian Beligion a recall to the humble service of the existing world. StiU more corrective of a thorough-going eschatology is the habitual attitude of Jesus toward both nature and life. He looks on both, not with the eye of an ascetic or visionary, as though they stood between Him and His supreme desire, but with a keen and undisguised appreciation and delight. Each phase of nature— sprmgtime and harvest, the liHes and the birds, the mountain and the lake, each household task— the working of the leaven and the sweeping of the room— is to Him beautiful and sacred ; not as of a world that is passing away, but as of a world that is divinely given and spiritually symboUc. Human life also, its joys and sorrows, the children at their play, and the labourer at his work— these are not viewed with the pensive indiffer- ence of one whose heart is elsewhere, but with a keen sympathy and alert responsiveness which have suggested to many critics a Hellenic quahty in Jesus, and have induced at least one writer to claim for Him even a Hellenic descent.^ In short, the ethical data of the Gospels appear to provide a test which is Hkely to modify in limit an extreme application of escha- tology to their interpretation. If, as Bousset has remarked, the Gospels offer a rehgion of ' ethical liberation ' it may be reasonable to conclude with him that ' though steeped in the eschatologioal hopes of His time and country (Jesus) yet succeeded in altering and purifying them at the critical point, and in breaking through the limits which hemmed them in.' ^ The drama dimly discerned in the Gospels may thus be interpreted by the conduct habitually com- mended in the Gospels. Either we must conclude that while the mind of the Master was fixed on the future He scattered along His way, as a by-product of that teaching. His universal ethics, or else we must conclude that however real to His thought, as to that of His contemporaries, the Messianic expectation may have been, it did not dominate His teaching or His character, and that in His most imme- diate instructions He rose above the anticipations of His time into the presence of timeless ideals. In short, this historical problem has to consider whether the secret of Jesus lay in His reflection of contemporary ideals or in His creation of new ideals ; whether the apocaljrptic expectation was His master or whether it was His servant ; whether He reiterated the current eschatology or utilized and spiritua- lized it ; whether in a word the central motive of His teaching was dramatic or didactic, the work of a herald or the work of a teacher ; whether His place in history is to be found within the circle of contem- porary thought, or whether He stood ' above the heads of His reporters '. ' H. S. Chamberlain, Die Qrundlagen des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts, S'** Aiifl., 1904, i, 219 ff. ^ J&sus, tr. Trevelyan, 162 fi. 6, iV. T. Eschatology and N. T. Ethics: Peahody 311 The conclusion which Wellhausen, not without impatience, but with eloquence and authority, announces, may provide a sufficient answer to these questions. 'It is held', he remarks, 'that the announcement of a future kingdom is the central element in the message. And yet, in Mark's Gospel, this element is completely in the background. Jesus, in His Galilean period, is not a herald but a teacher ; and a teacher, it may be added, not of the Kingdom of God, but of the various subjects which, in natural succession, are thrown in His way, — of obvious truths apphed to the needs of people misled by their spiritual guides . . . The eschatological hope first reached its intense signi- ficance through the earliest disciples, who attached it to the person of Jesus . . . His own way of life was not like that of His followers, determined by eschatology. They renounced the world to prepare for His coming ; but His ethics were assuredly not, as uninformed persons have recklessly asserted, provisional ethics, to be endured only through the expectation of an approaching end, and beyond that point superfluous. His ethics were the eternal will of God, in heaven as on earth. He was no doubt deeply affected by faith in the future, in the general resurrection, the judgement, and the King- dom of God. All this He could assume as accepted by His hearers and needing httle exhortation . . . (Yet) it is the non-Jewish and human, rather than the Jewish in Him, which stamps His character.' ^ Such are some brief suggestions of a corrective influence on New Testament eschatology which may proceed from New Testament ethics. The eschatological problem, it has been truthfuUy said, is just now ' in the air '.^ It may be the task of ethical inquiry to give to this airy structure of criticism a substantial under-pinning on the ground. And this, it may be lastly pointed out, is not only an order of procedure which is apphcable to New Testament criticism, but one which reflects the order of teaching which seems to have been the way of Jesus Himself. Not, first, a conviction concerning His place in the plan of the Eternal and a full understanding of His mission ; but, first, loyalty, obedience, moral susceptibiHty — such seems to have been His education to discipleship. ' Follow me,' He says, ' Take up thy cross and follow ; ' and along the way of service you may reach the end of truth. Obedience, as Robertson taught, was to Jesus the organ of spiritual knowledge. Whatever dramatic elements are included in the message of the Gospels may be best disclosed through its didactic elements. The first appeal of Jesus Christ was not to the reason or the imagination, but to the will. Character to Him was the path to insight. The pure in heart should see God. Perhaps the guidance of New Testament criticism to a * Eirdeitung in die drei ersten Evangdien, 1905, pp. 106, 113, 114. ^ Sanday, op. cit., p. 65. 312 VIII. The Christian Religion «table conclusion may be in the same manner committed to Christian ethics, and the metaphysics of the Gospels may be approached through the appreciation of their characteristic morality. Perhaps it may still happen that those who will to do the will are on the way to know the doctrine. THE SIGNIFICANCE OF EARLY CHRISTIAN ESCHATOLOGY By ERNST VON DOBSCHUTZ EscHATOLOGY was not so long ago the last chapter of dogmatics. The biblical scholar was quite satisfied when he had made all the New Testament sayings about the last things fit into his system. Nobody cared what the early Christians felt and thought in reading these sa3rings, and but few people were personally interested in their contents. Time went on, and New Testament exegesis became historical instead of dogmatic. Students learned to ask what the New Testament authors meant and felt. But there was so little appreciation for eschatological ideas that these were, if not neglected altogether, softened down and modernized. It is only within the last thirty years that the attitude of biblical theology has changed. Modern criticism allows a special interest in everything which is alien to our own time. Hence, together with angelology and demonology, eschatology to-day forms the most attractive of New Testament studies. And, as it generally happens, where there was once utter neglect, the tendency is now towards the opposite extreme — an over-estimation of the significance of eschatology on the part of a considerable number of scholars. Under these circumstances I may be justified in laying before this distinguished assembly this question — ^What was the real significance of eschatology in the earHest days of Christianity ? I do not propose to deal here with early Christian eschatological doctrines in general. It is well known what a number of apocalyptic ideas were current during that period. We may take it for granted that all these were borrowed from Judaism, whatever may have been their origin. The Gospel introduced two new points oidy : (1) the central place was given to Jesus, whose parousia or descent from heaven in the glory of the Father was to bring with it the end of this world, the resurrection, the judgement, the Kingdom of God, and life everlasting. And (2) this was expected to happen very speedily, the 7. Early Christian Eschatology : Dobschiitz 313 Messiah having been sent abeady by God in the person of Jesus, and being postponed for a short space only. This is the vital point : early Christianity was not simply meditating on eschatological dreams that might be realized some time or other at a remote period, but the first Christians were persuaded that the great day when all would be changed was to come in the lifetime of their own generation. No modern scholar will deny, I trust, that Jesus Himself and His disciples, including the apostle Paul, shared this persuasion. Of course it cannot be proved that Jesus ever thought that He would succeed in estabhshing the Kingdom of God without d3dng first. It is a widespread hypothesis among theologians of our time that He did so, at least in the first period of His ministry ; that He tried to win His people by preaching and healing, and that He was only led by the experience of growing hatred on the part of His countrymen to reckon, first with the possi- bility, then with the necessity, of His death, and, finally, to attribute to it a positive efi&cacy. In vain we ask for proofs of this theory. Jesus says that imto this (present) generation no sign should be given,^ that there were some of them that stood there who should not taste of death till they had seen the Kingdom of God come with power.^ He never speaks of his own lifetime * : it is only in the next generation that the kingdom will come. His disciples have to wait for it, as they pray for its coming.* And thus the Apostles, when Jesus was taken from them, taught the people that Jesus of Nazareth, whom the chiefs of the Jews put to death, was the man ordained by God; but they did not teU them that the new era had already begun. The kingdom was still to be expected. Jesus must come back from heaven to establish it, and would come quickly. St. Paul felt sure that he would be stUl alive at the coming. ' We which are ahve and remain,' he says to the Thessalonians^; and in his first letter to the Corinthians he expresses the same view.^ Later on his attitude changes. As a matter of fact, in the second to the Corin- thians, his position has become uncertain : stiU he hopes and wishes that death may not come to him before Christ's parousia ; but having realized that death can come suddenly, even upon him, he declares solemnly his confidence that he will be in communion with Christ even in death : ' We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.' ^ Here we find for the first time the individual death taking the place of the parousia, an alternative often suggested by later Christian writers. But Paid does ^ Mark viii. 12. " Mark ix. 1. ' Matt. X. 23 is to be understood of the missionary work after Jesus's death, not of the disciples' short trip through Galilee. * Matt. vi. 10. * 1 Thess. iv. 15, 17. ' 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52. ' 2 Cor. v. 6-8. 314 VIII. The Christian Religion not g,t all mean to set aside the enthusiastic expectation of Chnst's immediate advent, ffis only doubt is this— will he himself be still alive ? The event is not postponed ; on the contrary, it draws nigh rapidly, as he writes to the Romans : ' Now is our salvation nearer than when we beheved.' i And even in the last of his letters he declares : 'We look for the Saviour from heaven.' ^ To these testimonies we may add the opening and the closing words of St. John's Revelation : ' Things which must shortly come to pass' ; ' for the time is at hand' ; ' Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, Lord Jesus '3— sayings like these show that early Christianity was deeply impressed with this conviction. Not a single modern scholar, I feel sure, will deny these statements. The question, however, is how far this belief in an immediate coming of the end acted upon the mind of Jesus and of His disciples. We shall find that it did not do so as much as we might expect. Jesus declares that the gospel must be preached to all nations before the Kingdom can come * : but He does not go beyond the Jewish frontiers.^ Although at the sending out of His disciples to preach in the cities and villages of Palestine His orders show that He would have them hurry on,^ He Himself makes no haste at all. There is no evidence that He ever dreamt of hastening on the day of the Lord by His activity or His suffering, that (to quote from a recent author) He was possessed with the idea that His intervention would bring to a standstill the wheel of history. And even St. Paul, much as he was impressed by the urgent need of accomphshing his missionary work throughout the world before the coming of Christ,'' did not hurry on from town to town ; on the con- trary, he was anxious to stay as long as his activity was needed, not merely to found, but to develop and to educate a Christian community. Now, as a matter of fact, in his exhortation he frequently insists on the approach of judgement and final salvation.^ When he appeals to scriptural ' examples' he justifies himself by the remark that the end of the time has come upon his readers.^ But we cannot say that this view materially influenced his ethics. Many scholars maintain that we have to explain from the eschatological point of view what Paul says about marriage in 1 Cor. vii, and, indeed, his general idea is that, as the time is short, nothing should be changed : he who was married when he became a Christian should remain married ; he who was unmarried should so remain : let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was caUed.^" His preference for celibacy, however, is not to be ex- '■ Rom. xiii. 11-12. " PMl. iii. 20. ' Rev. i. 1, 3 ; xxii. 20. " Mark xiii. 10. " Mark vi. 1 sqq. " Mark vi. 8-12. ' Rom. xv. 16. ' 1 Thess. V. 1 sqq. ; Rom. xii. 11. » 1 Cor. x. 11. 1° 1 Cor. vii. 17, 20, 24. 7. Early Christian' Eschatology: Dohschutz 315 plained by his eschatology ^ : it was the asceticism of his age which influenced him in regarding marriage as the lower state. Jesus certainly looks forward to a rich reward, which is to be given to the poor, the hungry, the merciful, the pure in heart,^ and so on, when the Kingdom comes ; and this will be very soon. He insists on the duty of being watchful, because the day will come suddenly as a thief in the night.^ But if we eliminate His eschatological ideas His ethics remain unchanged. Take, for example, the parables of the Good Samaritan and of the Prodigal Son.* The great commandments of love and of self-renunciation^ are in no way suggestive of an ' interim ethics', but of a definitive, absolute system of ethics. And in this way His ethical precepts were understood, taught, and acted upon by the early Christians.^ That they are strange to our modern Christian mind is not due to the fact that we have abandoned the eschatological idea, but to the fact that the enthusiasm which inspired them and made their fulfilment easy is no longer ours. This enthusiasm, however, has its roots not so much in eschatology as in the profoimd consciousness of a change already accomphshed through the experience of salvation, as we shall see hereafter. It is true that neither Jesus nor Paul conceived the idea of a gradual development of the kingdom, or of an extension of the Church through a long period of history upon earth. Jesus's first coming was not indeed the end, but at the end of history. It is from this point of view that we have to understand what Jesus Himself says about His death, as a ransom for many and the making of a new covenant.'' He looks backward in history. The new covenant will be in another aeon, not on this earth, not under these conditions of life.^ When St. Paul speaks of Jesus as a propitiation, and of the redemption and forgiveness of all sins by His death,' this is intelhgible on the supposition that what stands at the end of history extends its influence backwards upon the whole period which preceded. Paul does not think about the sins of millions of men, who will live after Christ's death. When he insists on the parallelism between Adam and Christ,^" he is thinking of humanity in its beginning and in its end. Christ is not the centre or turning-point of a great historical development, as we may now caU Him from, our remote standpoint, but He is the end itself. What follows is no con- tinuation, but a renovation of what has gone before, a new humanity in a new world. * 1 Cor. vii. 26, 31, have been partly misinterpreted, partly overvalued in their significance. ^ Matt. v. 3-12 ; Luke vi. 20-22. ' Matt. xxiv. 42-44. * Luke x. 30 sqq. ; xv. 11 sqq. "■ Mark xii. 28-34 ; Matt. v. 38-48 ; Luke vi. 26, 27. • e.g. 1 Thess. v. 15 ; Rom. xii. 17-21. ' Mark x. 45 ; xiv. 24. » Mark xii. 25 ; xiv. 25. ' Rom. iii. 25. " Rom. v. 12-21. 316 VIII. The Christian Religion Thus the general conception of history in primitive Christianity so characteristic of Jewish thought as contrasted with Greek philosophy is strongly influenced by what we may call the eschatological idea. And it is this historical conception which throws light upon the early Christian theories of redemption. These theories, however, are but a form of rehgious thought, Just as ethics are only a way of forming the moral power of Christendom. When we ask what is the kernel of early Christian religious feehng, we shall find that there is nothing eschatological about it. Jesus's rehgious position may be rightly defined as a hfe of unbroken union with God. The Judaism of His time, even in its most pious form, thought of God as of a distant Being, removed and completely separated from this world of sin, which was given into the dominion of subordinate or even evil spirits until the time when God should come to judge the world and to estabhsh His own sovereignty. Jesus knows Him — -and teaches men to know Him — as the Father, who, always and everywhere present, cares about the welfare of aU His children ; ^ who has compassion on the sinner and forgives trespasses whenever man repents. It is in .the strength of this trust that Jesus goes on His way, undisturbed by hostile threats ;^ that He sleeps in the storm,* feeds the multitude,* heals all kinds of sickness,® and casts out the demons.^ Thence He gets a conception of the Bao-iXei'u toG eeoC quite different from the current one ; the Kingdom of God is not to be brought about by a miraculous act of God, but it is the domination of God casting away all evil powers.'' Jesus Himself by His complete union with God brings in this domination of God : it is where He is : it is present among men (or in men's hearts — within you ^), and not to be looked for in external miraculous signs. So Jesus— in His own opinion — ^is not only pre- paring the future Kingdom of God, like His forerunner, John the Baptist, but He is actually bringing it in.® He is the bridegroom whose companions cannot fast while He is with them.^" From the parables of the garment and of the wine-bottles ^'^ we learn that He looks on Himself and His surroundings as something quite new. He does not speak much of the new spirit, but all His acting is dominated by a new spirit. So is that of His disciples. Of course in His addresses to the people He speaks as the missionary ; there is the need to be watchful, for the great moment will come shortly, suddenly. But in the intimate circle of His followers there is no anxious self-preparation for judgement to come, but a happy enjoy- ' Matt. v. 45 ; Luke vi. 35. ^ Luke xiii. 31, 32. ^ Mark iv. 37-40. * Mark vi. 34-40 ; viii. 13-26. ' Mark i. 32 sqq.; ii. 5 ; v. 34 ; si. 23, 24. " Mark iii. 22 sqq. ' Matt. xii. 28 ; Luke xi. 20. Cp. Luke x. 18. ' Luke xvii. 21. ' Matt. xi. 9-10 ; Luke vii. 26-8 ; xvi. 16. " Mark ii. 19. " Mark ii. 21, 22; Matt, xiii, 16, 17. 7. Early Christian Eschatology : Dohschutz 317 ment of all blessings which God's grace had vouchsafed to them in Jesus. This is the meaning of Peter's confession : ^ ' People may say, Thou art a prophet, one of a large number, an EHjah or John, i.e. the forerunner of a greater one. We confess that Thou art the Christ, the unique bringer of salvation : there is none greater than Thou ; in Thee we enjoy our union with God, in short our salvation.' It is this spirit of gladness, caused by the experience of the greatest gifts of God, that we discern in the disciples after Jesus had gone from them. Whether it be called the experience of communion with the risen Lord or the communion of the Holy Ghost, it is not the anticipa- tion of something yet to come ; it is the actual possession of a present benefit. This fact becomes still more patent when we turn once more to St. Paul. What has the triumphant hymn in Rom. viii to do with eschatology ? The Christian is sure of God's love as shown and guaranteed to him by Christ who came down and died for this very purpose, and by the Holy Ghost, which is given into his heart.^ Salva- tion is at hand, God has performed, Christ has died and risen, the Holy Ghost has been given to every believer. Christians then are washed, sanctified, justified.^ They are living in a new state ; old things are passed away, behold all things are become new.* Eschatology, it is true, is at the background of all this, but it has changed its significance. Many sayings of Jesus and Paul are then only fuUy intelligible if we recognize that eschatological terms are used by them in a new sense ; they discard all external, political, miraculous significance, but take the inward moral meaning as already fulfilled.^ At the same time they do not entirely eliminate the other meaning; putting forward the new, they retain the original one combined with it. If time present had brought fulfilment, stUl larger fulfilment is in store for time to come. Jesus, like aU great rehgious personaUtics, was at once progressive and eminently conservative. The new gifts which He had to bring to mankind were envisaged by Himself in the form of old Jewish conceptions. External reality did not correspond to what people expected, to what Jesus Himself found in the prophets. There was still a lack of external glory. Now Jesus trusted to His Father that He would accomplish what He had begim, and fulfil aU that He had promised. And so eschatology in its old form was for Him a postulate of His faith. The kingdom is at hand, it is present in His person, in His casting out devils, in His bringing sinners to repentance — but it has still to come in glory, when after His death and resurrection He will come upon the clouds from heaven.* Men are God's beloved » Mark viii. 28, 29. ^ Rom. v, 6-8 ; viii. 32. '' 1 Cor. vi. 11 ; i. 30. * 2 Cor. V. 17. " See e.g. 1 Cor. iv. 8. ' Mark viii. 38 ; jciv. 62. 318 VIII. The Christian Religion and happy children : so runs His message, and they are this if they are merciful even as He is.^ But He can also say: Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.^ So in Jesus's preaching everything is at once present and future : you have it, you will receive it. The same may be said of St. Paul's doctrine : there we find not only the double conception of the kingdom, present and future,^ but also that of sonship, of redemption, of deliverance, of righteousness, and so on. We are children of God ; we have the spirit of sonship, and yet we have to wait for the manifestation of the sons of God ; we wait for the sonship.* We are redeemed, and yet we look for the redemption of our body.^ Paul feels himself a new creature, exalted above all human misery and sin : and yet all that he now has, is but a small portion of what he will obtain when his Lord comes in His glory to glorify those who belong to Him.^ If Christ's death has done such great things, he argues in Romans v, to reconcile us with Grod, how great will be the effect of Christ's Hfe,'' i.e. of His coming in glory and of our being united with Him eternally. We are now in a better position to understand how it is that Paul, when changing his opinion as to the time of his own death in relation to the parousia, did not forthwith set aside the old conception (as we should have expected, had he been merely abandoning Rabbinical views for Hellenistic ones). Even in the latest of his letters he holds both conceptions : on the one hand he can desire to depart and to be with Christ ; on the other he can anticipate Christ's return from heaven to conform the body of our humiliation to the body of His glory.8 It would be easy to demonstrate these alternating views by the Rabbinical doctrine of the two Olams (aeons, worlds), the one present, bad, evil, and the other future, -glorious, happy. The New Testament writers use the terms, but it is difiicult to say how precisely they view their own age. If Christ came that He might deliver us from this present evil world. Christians belong already to the new world. And yet aU the external conditions of the old bad world stiU exist. Christians dwell still in the flesh, but they walk not after the flesh ; or, as St. John says, they are in the world but not of the world. It is remarkable that we nowhere find an expUcit theory of an intermediate state like later doctrines of the twofold advent of Christ, or. the later distinction between 'ecclesia militans' and 'ecclesia triumphans'. The early Christians were so enthusiastic in their belief in an accomplished ■ Matt. V. 45 ; Luke vi. 35. » Matt. v. 9. ' Rom. xiv. 17 ; 1 Cor. iv. 20 ; 1 Thess. ii. 12 ; 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10 ; Gal. v. 21. • Rom. viii. 14, 16, 19, 23. " 1 Cor. i. 30 ; Rom. viii. 23. « 2 Cor. V. 17. ' Rom. v. 9, 10. ' Phil. i. 23 ; iii. 20, 21. 7. Early Christian Eschatology: Dobschutz 319 salvation that, in spite of all external evidence, they imagined them- selves already dwelling in the new order of things. If St. Mark illus- trates the effect of Christ's death by the veil of the temple rent in twain from the top to the bottom, the gospel according to St. Matthew anticipates the signs of the parousia and the last judgement by the earthquake, the opening of the graves, and the rise of the many bodies of the saints.^ This attitude of early Christianity is to he seen in its clearest form in the Johannine writings. It is weU known that the fourth evangelist (whoever he may be) uses eschatological terms in a modified sense : fa>4 diitvios, ' eternal life,' is not as in other books the life of the aeon to come, but it is something that begins in this life — ^life in the highest sense — whereas what men call life is but death. So Christ gives life everlasting to all who know Him and believe in Him. So, too, judge- ment and resurrection are taken in a figurative sense : for the Christian judgement lies in the past ; he has passed from death into life ; ^ the Kpiais is effected by the separation of beHevers and unbelievers .^ It is to be understood in this figurative sense when Jesus says : ' The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall live : ' men, morally dead, by accepting the Gospel get life everlasting.* But when, three verses further on, he says : 'For the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the tombs shall hear His voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of hfe, and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of judgement (damnation) '^ — the thought is fuUy eschatological. It is this combination of non- eschatological plus eschatological ideas which makes the Johannine characteristic as distinct both from primitive Christian and from Gnostic views. And yet it is the very attitude of Jesus and Paul which we recognize in this Johannine two-sidedness. At this point we may stop. We have found eschatology playing a great part in early Christian beUef and thought, (1) as a strong motive in moral exhortation — ^but only one motive besides others, such as thankfulness for God's grace, care for Grod's honour. Christian self- respect, and so on — and not influencing Christian ethics materially ; (2) as the key to the historical conception of Grod's working with mankind, the sending of His Son as Saviour being the end of a long history of sin. But it was not of the essence of Christian faith, this being rather confidence in a present activity of God and an already accomplished salvation. We may accordingly aflBrm that Christianity did not change its essence, when the expectation of Christ's coming became fainter and 1 Mark xv. 38 ; Matt, xxvii. 51, 52. ^ John v. 24. 3 John iii. 17-21. * John v. 25. " John v. 28, 29. 320 nil. The Christian Religion eschatology fell into the rank of a doctrine of merely historical value. The remark may be added that the great eschatological pictures come in only at a later period of early Christian literature, not in the first, but in the second generation. That the mass of Jewish apocalyptic ideas is introduced, is in itself evidence of the weakening of early Christian confidence. And at the same time we may determine the position of the Gospel in the history of religions. All religions of that time were religions of hope. Stress was laid on the future ; the present time was but for preparation. So in the mysterious cults of Hellenism, whose highest aim is to offer guarantees for other-worldly happiness ; so too in Judaism, whose legacy has but the aim of furnishing the happy life in the kingdom of the future. Christianity is a religion of faith, the gospel giving not only guarantees for the future life in another world, but bringing by itself confidence, peace, joy, salvation, forgiveness, righteousness — whatever man's heart yearns after. With this it combines hope — this we must never forget. Hope is an essential feature of vivid religious feeling. But in primitive Christian piety hope takes only the second place. When, at a later period, hope takes the first rank at the expense of faith, as may be seen, e.g., in 1 Peter and Hebrews, this is due to the increasing influence of pre-Christian Hellenistic religion, and means a declension. Strange to say, the weakening of eschatological feeling and the other-worldly tendency are both produced by the same movement. Now, where all stress is laid on hope, instead of on trust, joy changes into timidity, the rehgious stimulus once more becomes fear. So we see the Christianity of the second century creating a new system of guarantees, exactly similar to that which the mysteries of Greece had furnished : guarantees of a future salvation — a highly uncertain salvation. But wherever there is a revival of the Gospel,^ we meet again joyful confidence and assurance of salvation combined with a secure hope of stfll greater blessings. This is the proof from history for our thesis. * e. g. in St. Augustine, St. Francis, Luther and the other heroes of the Reformation. 8 THE PARABLE OF THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN By F. C. BURKITT We have often been told, at least since the days of Auguste Comte, that St. Paul was the inventor of Christian theology. Of late this theory tends to be expressed in a new form. It is beginning to be recognized that a doctrine of atonement through the death of Jesus Christ is really implied in the Gospel according to Mark ; this Gospel, therefore (so the theory goes), must have been conceived and planned under the influence of the Pauline theology. Of course, in so far as it may have been so conceived and planned, it will not be a simple report of the events recorded, but an artificial account of the events drawn up in accordance with a particular view of their meaning. I am by no means convinced of the truth of this theory. It is one of the main objects of this paper to point out how very different is the doctrine set forth in the Gospel according to Mark, and particularly in the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen, from Paulinism. Both are ' Christian ', but whereas St. Paul's doctrine is a deduction from the course of previous events, that in the Gospel is really an anticipation. There is not much doubt as to the general meaning of the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen (Mark xii. 1-12). St. Mark tells us that the chief priests and the scribes and the elders knew that Jesus spoke the parable against them. Indeed, it did not require great perspicacity to perceive that. But before we go on to see whether any difficulties of interpretation yet remain, we must face the question as to the genuineness of the parable as a whole. Is it in its main outlines — the vineyard and its owner, the unfruitful tenants, the sending of the owner's son and his murder, the threat of eviction — a true report of what Jesus of Nazareth really said in Jerusalem, or is it the product of later Christian reflection ? I must confess that I beheve it to be wholly genuine. Perhaps a very acute modern historian might be found to put these words into our Lord's mouth, but I find a great difficulty in imagining any early Christian of any school who could do it. It seems to me certain that the thing which is not there is exactly what Christian invention would have put in : I mean, some reference to the Resurrection. The son of the owner is killed outright, according to the parable. Does it not seem likely, if the parable were based upon anything else than a real recollection of words spoken that we should be told that one of the husbandmen who had not 322 VIII. The Christian Religion consented to the council and deed of the others saw the son outside the vineyard, and that he learnt that the son was not dead, but was gone back to be with his father until the appointed time ? The fact that the parable contains no suggestion at all of the son's resuscita- tion seems to me, the story being what it is, little short of positive proof that it took its shape before belief in the resurrection of Christ became the common property of the Christian community. And this is only a somewhat roundabout way of saying that the parable is a genuine historical reminiscence of words spoken by Jesus Himself. But what part does the son really play in the parable ? If the parable be genuine historical reminiscence, it must give us our Lord's own idea of His mission. The son in the parable is killed, like the messengers that had preceded him. At first sight his errand also seems a complete failure : are we to suppose that Jesus went up to Jerusalem anticipating complete failure ? If so, what was the use of going up to inevitable destruction ? When we look closer, we find that the son's mission was, after all, not a complete failure, at least not from the point of view of the government of the estate. The kilhng of the son by the husbandmen is really the event which directly brings on the catastrophe. The change of tenants, the new state of things, the new arrangement of the vineyard, — this is all brought about through the son's death. The death of the son will impel the Lord of the Vineyard to execute his judgement on the unworthy cultivators of it. In other words, the death of Jesus will hasten the Day of God's Judgement. The triumph of Christianity has caused the Day of Judgement to change its meaning for us. Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire and of its successors ; the whole mass of the population became Christians, at least in name. When this change had taken place, the Day of Judgement was no longer the Day of Vindication for the oppressed people of the Lord, for every one had become one of the Lord's people. We have all become Christians, sinners as well as saints, and we may well feel individually apprehen- sive lest our offences should amount to a sin unto death in that day. This is the aspect of the Day of Judgement famiUar to us from the mediaeval Dies Irae and from the preaching of such men as Whitefield. But it is not the primitive notion, not the notion that is presupposed in the New Testament. I say presupposed, because a number of references to the great Day of the Lord, in the New Testament as in the Prophets of old, are the words of religious reformers, of men in advance of their time, anxious to warn their contemporaries that God is no respecter of persons, and that it is not enough to say 'We have Abraham for our father'. But the popular notion was undoubtedly that the Day of Judgement would be the triumph of 8. Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen : Burkitt 323 God's chosen people Israel. In the present state of things other lords had dominion over them, but the Day of the Lord of lords was at hand, the Kingdom of God Himself was coming, and then Israel would be exalted and the Gentiles would be judged, judged according to the rigour with which they had oppressed the saints of the Most High. The Day of Judgement, the Consummation of the Age, the Consolation of Israel — these all mean much the same thing ; they are all synonyms for the inauguration of the Kingdom of God. To come back to the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen, we have seen that the murder of the son brings about the new state of things, and that means that the death of Jesus wiU hasten the Day of Judge- ment, will hasten the inauguration of the Kingdom of God. We may pause for a moment to notice how imperfectly, if we take a strictly literalist view, the forecast contained in it was actually fulfilled. Until A.D. 70 the aristocracy of Jerusalem remained in possession; after a.d. 70 and the destruction of the Holy City the Vineyard was desolate. In a very real sense, no doubt, the Christian Church corre- sponds to the ' others ' to whom the Lord of the Vineyard will entrust His estate. But a new non-national voluntary society of converts is hardly the alternative suggested by the parable to the existing constitution of Judaism. I only mention this in passing, to point out that the parable has none of the characteristics of a vaticinium ex eventu, a prophecy made up in the hght of later events. But from another point of view the theory underlying the parable is incomplete. It only exhibits our Lord in relation to His opponents. I began with it in this paper, because it appeared to me to bear so strongly the marks oi historical genuineness that it made a con- venient starting-point for investigation. We have gathered from it this, that Jesus contemplated His death as serving to bring in the Kingdom of God. We may now go on to ask what other passages there are in the Gospel according to Mark which deal with our Lord's anticipation of His death, and whether these agree with the ideas underljdng the parable of the Wicked Husbandmen. There are not very many, for the passages containing the predictions of the Passion (Markviii. 31fE.,ix. 31f.,x. 32fE.) only set the Passion before us as a thing decided and inevitable ; they do not explain for what reason it must be undergone. The main passages for our purpose are Mark x. 45 and the verses that lead up to it (' the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many '), together with the sayings about Ehjah in Mark ix. 11 ff. The sayings about BUjah, spoken as our Lord and His most intimate companions were coming away from the mount of Transfiguration, are at first sight singularly disjointed, and on any hypothesis they form a very curious pendant to the Transfiguration itself. I do not . y2 324 F///. The Christian Beligion profess to be able to give you a satisfactory rationalization of the Transfiguration : it does not seem to me that any of the modern ' explanations ' make the matter any simpler, and I take it that we have practically a narrative of what St. Peter thought he remembered having seen. Our interpretation of the narrative wiU depend mamly upon our general interpretation of the Gospel history. But what follows this narrative, the conversation reported in Mark ix. 9-13, does seem to me a piece of true historical reminiscence. The three disciples are descending the hill with their Master, persuaded that they have seen something marvellous, a presage of the glorious future. Jesus tells them to say nothing ' till the Son of Man be risen from the dead ' (ver. 9). What this means they do not understand, for what has the Son of Man, whose office it is to act as God's Vice-gerent and judge the nations when the great Day arrives, to do with dying ? The Son of Man, according to the similitudes of Enoch, is suddenly revealed when the time is ripe ; He has been hidden with the Most High, but at last His Day comes and the kings and mighty ones of the earth look up and recognize Him sitting on the throne of His glory, and they prostrate themselves before that Son of Man, who judges them to be carried away to torment by His angels (Enoch Ixii). So Peter and James and John say something about Elijah coming first {ver. 11). Some thought Jesus was Ehjah ; in any case Elijah was to come before the Day of the Lord, according to Malachi the prophet. Had perhaps the ' rising from the dead ' something to do with the reappear- ance of Elijah ? At least, this appears to be the connexion between Mark ix. 10 and 11. In reply Jesus says, ' Yes, Ehjah is to come first to prepare everything. But ' — and here I venture to expand and paraphrase, so as to give what I take to be the train of thought — ' but you wonder why I should speak of being rejected and killed, though you have recognized Me, and I recognize Myself, as the Anointed of God. You say, where is it written ? I teU you it is the same as with Ehjah. It was written in the Book of Malachi that Ehjah should come ; and Elijah has come, even John the Baptist, as I have told you before. It was not written in the Book of Malachi that Ehjah should be killed ; but he has been killed by the new Ahab, Herod Antipas. From the fate of the new Elijah I read My own fate. All things that happen are pre- determined by My Father : they are, if you will have it so, WTitten in the Heavenly Tablets, of which Enoch and others speak. In the Heavenly Tablets, in the determined counsel of God, it is written that the Son of Man shall suffer many things and be put to naught.' This is what I beheve Mark ix. 12, 13 to mean. I beKeve that John the Baptist prepared the way for our Lord by his example as well as by his preaching : if it was the will of God that John should be 8. Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen : Burkitt 325 killed, though the kingdom was at hand and though John was the foretold Elijah who was to be its herald, then it might well be ordained that the Christ should suffer before entering into His glory, even though no scriptvire seemed to indicate it. After the event it was easy enough to pick out Isaiah liii and give it a Christian interpreta- tion, but there is nothing to show that this was ever done by any one before the Passion in Jerusalem. The one reference to Isaiah hii in the recorded words of Jesus is the more or less ironical warning to the disciples on the last night that soon their Master would be reckoned among lawless folk (Lukexxii. 37; cf.Isa. hii. 12). The identification, the synthesis, of the Messiah and the Suffering Servant, is the result of the Crucifixion, not an anticipation of it. It was not the study of the scriptures after the manner of the Scribes, but an intuitive grasp of what our Lord called ' the signs of the times ', that set Him on His way to bear witness, and if need be die, at Jerusalem. That the Kingdom of Grod was at hand was the general conviction. It is, in fact, the conviction that animates the whole series of Jewish Apocaljrpses that have come down to us, from Daniel to second Esdras and Baruch, and doubtless of many more which have not survived. The Gospel Message, as preached by John, and after him by our Lord, added to the announcement of the im- minence of the Kingdom, the call to Repentance. ' The time is ful- filled and the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and beheve in the gospel ' (Mark i. 15) : this is what Jesus announced in Gahlee. So imminent was the consummation, so near the coming of the Kingdom, that the disciples sent out to preach the tidings might not be able to work through the cities of Israel, before the Son of Man, the Son of Man spoken of by Daniel and by Enoch, was already come (Matt. x. 23). But the disciples returned back to their Master and the end was not yet. Something was causing a delay in the coming of the Kingdom. ' When the fruit is ripe, immediately he putteth in the sickle ' (Mark iv. 29). But was the fruit ripe ? Had the preaching of John and of Jesus called forth an adequate response ? It is clear that our Lord's answer is ' No '. What else can we gather from the Woes upon Chorazin and Bethsaida, and upon Capernaum? The Galilean crowds had not yet rejected their Prophet, but they had not, as a whole, paid much heed to His Message. They had not repented. These Woes upon Capernaum and Bethsaida do not indeed appear in the Gospel according to Mark, but we have there as an equivalent the disappointed, half -impatient references to ' this generation ' (Mark viii. 12), ' this adulterous and sinful generation ' (viii. 38), ' this faithless generation ' (ix. 19), all, be it noticed, in immediate proximity to the announcement of the journey from the north to Jerusalem. No, the nation as a whole had not repented. Therefore its guilt 326 VIII. The Christian Religion remained. And, as a consequence, the coming of God's Kingdom tarried. Something yet remained to be done before the Kingdom could come in, before God would ' avenge His elect who cry to Him day and night ' (Luke xviii. 7). God was longsuffering in the double sense. He was willing to forgive, willing to overlook ; He was also wilhng to wait, if perchance 'this generation' should show signs of repentance. But He expected more from His people than He had hitherto got. He expected repentance from the sinners ; perhaps if Jesus went to Jerusalem they would, after all, recognize and reverence Him that had been sent by the Father. And God expected more also from His elect. True, some of those who followed Jesus had left their property and their families, but that was not their most valuable possession. ' What shall a man give in exchange for his life ? ' (Mark viii. 37). The elect themselves must be prepared to lay down their lives for the sake of the Gospel, and even if some will escape without actually ' tasting death ' itself, as is clearly implied in Mark ix. 1, others must lose their Hves in order to save them for eternal Hfe. And if some are thus to lose their hves, the Master must show the way. For if the most certain thing about Jesus of Nazareth is that He was intensely conscious of His special relation to the Father in Heaven who had sent Him, it is equally certain that He regarded His Mission on earth as a call to serve. Some day the Son of Man would appear from Heaven. Then He would sit on the throne of His glory. Then he would really play the part of Messiah, for which He has been ' designated ' in the Eternal Purpose.^ But at present He has come ' not to be ministered unto but to minister ', and to give up His life for the Gospel's sake. We have got very near, you will perceive, to the ideas which underlie Mark x. 45. Let us follow up this train of thought yet a Httle further. We have seen from the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen that Jesus contemplated His death as instrumental in briaging on the great catastrophe. In the parable we are naturally most concerned with the fate of the husbandmen ; the Day of Reckoning is chiefly thought of as the day of punishment for the wicked leaders of the people. For them, of course, the Day of the Lord will be a catastrophe indeed, and for many others also in ' this sinful generation '. But for the real Israel, for God's chosen people, for those who are destined to sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the Kingdom of God, nay for Abraham and Isaac and Jacob themselves and the rest of the saints of old, — ^for these the Day of the Lord will be the day of release and of reconciliation. If God brings in His Kingdom at last, it means that God is reconciled with His people again ; it wiU be * Compare the use of opicrSevTos in Rom. i. 4. 8. Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen : Burhitt 327 a proof that their sins are blotted out and remembered no more. If the death of the Son of Man brings on the catastrophe, then at the same time it brings on the reconcihation of God with those with whom He will be reconciled. The death works as the sacrifices at God's altar were believed to work, it is in fact a sacrifice. Not indeed for all, not for the Wicked Husbandmen, not for some out of ' this sinful generation '. But it will be ' a ransom for many '. When the great Day comes, the nations will be judged, and the sinners in Israel will perish, but the true Israel will be delivered from their enemies and God will reign over them. He will come and visit His Vineyard. All this seems to me to be what is implied in the Gospel according to Mark. At this Congress we are not directly concerned with the really vital question, whether these ideas are valid, whether they do correspond to the real facts, or whether it was all a dream. Our answer to this will depend chiefly upon our belief in the Mission of Jesus and in the reaHty of the Kingdom of God, apart from the imagery in which it has been from time to time embodied. But I venture to claim that at any rate these ideas are iiot Pauline, in the sense of ' derived from St. Paul '. St. Paul's doctrine of the convert's individual justification through subsequent faith in the already accomphshed death of Christ seems to me an adaptation of ideas such as those I have endeavoured to 'put before you, rather than a source of them. These ideas are all directly connected with Jewish eschatological ideas, they have their roots in genuine Jewish soil, and therefore I see no reason why we should not accept them as historically true, as being what they profess to be, the ideas of our Lord about His own Death and its meaning. There is yet another scene in the Gospel of Mark which appears to me to be told in a manner strangely inconsistent with what we should expect were it the product of later Christian reflection, and that is the story of the Last Supper. In Mark xiv. 22-5 there is no hint of a command to repeat the consecration or the partaking of the Bread and Wine, and the solemn asseveration, the ' Amen I say to you ', introduces not the consecration of the elements but ' I shall not drink any more of the fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new in the Kingdom of God '. In other words, the next Feast will be the Messianic Feast. But if Mark xiv. 25 recalls ix. 1 in its insistence upon the nearness of the new age, the preceding verse recalls Mark x. 45. The blood of Jesus will be blood of the Covenant, poured out 'for many'. I do not think there would be any diflference between oxtX iroAASv and virep iroA,A.Gv when we retranslate these phrases back into Aramaic. In x. 45 we find dvTt TToAAGv, and in xiv. 25 hrlp tzoIOimv. In the parallel passage (Matt. xxvi. 28) we find irepl ttoKSmv : it all comes to the same thing. 328 VIII. The Christian Religion The death of Jesus is ' for ' many, ' instead of ' many, ' to the advantage of ' many. And how it comes to be ' for many ' we have to explain, I venture to think, not by texts from St. Paul, but from the Gospel of Mark itself, from the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen. Jesus went to His death, beUeving that by so doing He was bringing in the Kingdom of God. As a matter of history, it brought into being the Christian Church. And to those who believe that, notwithstanding all shortcomings and imperfections, the Church is really animated by the Divine Spirit, the result stands as the justification of the course decided on and of the expectation cherished. It is only the translation of the phraseology of Jewish aspiration into terms and conceptions suitable for other lands and a new age. 9 JESUS IN JERUSALEM PETRUS- U. PAULUStJBERLIEPERUNG IM MARKUSEVANGELIUM UND DER NEUESTE EVANGELIENFUND (Geekfell and Hunt, v. 1-11). Von K. LINCKE. (Gekdezt) Das Markusevangelium besteht aus einer kurzen Vorgeschichte (Mark i. 1-15) und vier Szenengruppen : (1) Kapernaumszenen, (2) Missions-, (3) Messias-, (4) Jerusalemszenen, denen die Erinner- ungen des Petrus, die Markus aufgezeichnet hat, zu Grande liegen. Sehr vieles ist aber in paulinischem Sinne weiter ausgefiihrt. Es ist die Aufgabe, Ur-Markus und paulinische Bearbeitung, Geschichte und Dogmatik zu unterscheiden. Den Kapernaumszenen (i. 16-iii. 6) Hegt der Bericht iiber den Tag von Kapernaum zu Grunde, an dem Jesus lehrend und heilend zuerst aufgetreten ist. Aus der Lehre in Vollmacht und dem arztlichen Wirken in und vor dem Hause des Petrus entsteht durch Kombination die neue Lehre der Vollmacht des Herrn iiber die Krankheitsdamonen. Dazu kommt das AUmachtswunder der Heilung eines Aussatzigen, die Vollmacht der Siindenvergebung und der Siinderberufung, endlich die Vollmacht gegeniiber dem Gesetz in drei Fallen. Im ganzen sind es sieben EinzelvoUmachtszenen geworden, in denen Jesus, der Heilige Gottes, der Sohn des Menschen, als der Generalbevollmachtigte Gottes geschildert wird. Die Lehrwirksamkeit gegeniiber den Schriftgelehrten tritt zuriick. Jesus zeigt nach der Heilung des Aussatzigen einen echt levitischen Gesetzeseifer. Die Herrnworte vom alten Rock und dem neuen Stiick Tuch, vom neuen Wein und den alten Schlauchen aber sind antinomistisoh. Jesus wollte kein Kompromiss. Ebenso entschie- 9. Jesus in Jerusalem : Lincke 329 den lauten die Aussprviche gegen das Sabbatsgesetz iiberhaupt. Am scharfsten verurteilt er Korban und vieles andre der Art. Jesus forderte eine Religion der Liebe zu Gott und den Menschen. Die Pharisaer, die sich geschlagen sahen, suchten Jesus umzubringen. Das war der grosse Tag der Eroffnung der Lehrwirksamkeit in VoU- macht gegen das Gesetz der Judaer. In den Missionsszenen (iii. 7-viii. 26) wird die Tatigkeit, die Jesus entfaltet, vom Standpunkte der Juden- und Heidenmission geschil- dert. Jesus, der Sohn Gottes, der Sohn Gottes des Hochsten, ist all den Seinen entfremdet. Das Volk ist verstockt und soil es sein, damit ihm vergeben werde. Der erste Zeuge der Barmherzigkeit Gottes ist der Gadarener, der ' zu den Seinen ' gesandt wird und zu den Juden in der Dekapolis geht. Die Jiinger sind verstockt, sie verstehen weder das Gleichnis vom Saemann, noch das Speisungs- wunder in Galilaa und unter den Heiden. Sie sind blind und taub. Die wirldichen Jiinger aber waren die, denen Jesus sagte : ' Euch ist das Geheimnis gegeben des Reiches Gottes,' die beiden Briiderpaare, die der Evangelist in Galilaa und beim Gastmahle des ZoUners unter den Gasten verschwinden lasst, um sie mit acht andem zusammen zum zweitenmale zu berufen. Das wirMiche Volk waren die Gtemein- den, die Jesus in Galilaa einmal um sich versammelte. Das Gleichnis vom Saemann bezeichnet den wesentlichen Unterschied zwischen Judaa und Galilaa. Jesus warnte vor dem Sauerteig der Pharisaer, denen wohl auch das Wort gait : ' Mit welchem Masse ihr messet, wird man euch wieder messen.' Der Evangelist hat den Schluss des Tages, die essenische Eucharistie, im Auge. Jesus schuf an diesem Tage das Symbol der Glaubenseinheit der Christengemeinden in Galilaa und Samarien. Die Heidenmission wird eroffuet mit einer dreifachen Ansprache und ebenfaUs als Wundertatigkeit, zum teil ebenso allegorisch wie die Judenmission, geschildert, in dem Gesprach mit der Griechin und in der HeUung eines Taubstummen und eines Bliuden. Von der Entstehung der Christengemeinden, die die Apostel- geschichte in Damaskus, in Antiochia voraussetzt, ebenso wie in Samarien, sagt der EvangeHst kein Wort. Er sieht in der Welt nur Juden und Heiden und erzahlt alles nach dem Grirndsatze, dass das Evangelium zuerst zu den Judaern luid dann zu den Heiden gekommen sei. Die Missionstatigkeit der Zwolf ist beschrankt und bald zu Ende, ihr Missionsbericht diirftig und nichtssagend, wahrend der Roman von dem Tode des Johannes beim Geburtstagsfeste des Herodes lebhaft und ausfiihrlich erzahlt wird. In den Messiasszenen (viii. 27-x. 52) gilt es zunachst festzustellen warum Jesus, angebUch unterwegs auf dem Gange nach den Dorfern bei Oaesarea PhiHppi, von Petrus der Christos genannt wird. Vielleicht ist Jesus in der Kaiserstadt selbst vor den romischen Legaten getreten 330 nil. The Christian Religion als Fursprecher des galilaischen Volkes in schwerer Zeit, und ist deshalb, nach diesem Eintreten fiir die Seinen, als der Gesalbte, der Gottbegnadete, verehrt worden, nicht inx Sinne eines Messias der Judaer, wie es der Evangelist ohne weiteres als Meinung des Petrus voraussetzt. Eine schwere Zeit war fiir das Nordreich gekommen. Das sieht man auch aus der Verklarung auf dem heiUgen Berge Tabor, zu der der echte Petrusbrief (2 Pet. i, ii — das dritte entstand mit dem sogenannten ersten Brief e zusammen) den besten Kommentar liefert. Der Evangelist hat hier vieles hinzugefiigt in Bezug auf Mose und Elias, Taufe, Opfertod, Auferstehung und Messianitat. Echte Herrn- worte aus der Spruchkette in dieser Szenengruppe sind : Mk. viii. 35, ix. 40, 50, und die wiederholte Hindeutung auf die Geenna (ix. 44 £E.). Auf dem heiUgen Berge entschloss sich Jesus zu dem letzten, dem schwersten Gauge : hinauf nach Jerusalem ! Die Lage in Palastina, das Verhaltnis zwischen dem Nord- und Siidreiche, war ausserst gespannt. Herodes hatte einen Einfall der Judaer unter Ezekias zuriickgewiesen. Dann erschien das 'Testament des Mose', mit einem Kriegspsalm am Schlusse, einer Androhung des gotthchen Strafgerichts iiber die Abtriinnigen und Gottlosen, die Bewohner des Nordreiches. Im Jahre 35 etwa erfolgte der Einfall der Judaer unter Johannes, dem sogenannten Taufer, in das Gebiet des Herodes Antipas und der Uberfall bei Tirathana am Garizim in Samarien. Dazu drohte Gefahr von dem Araberkonig Aretas von Petra, der bei Josephus als der natiirhche Bundesgenosse der Judaer und des Johannes erscheint. Am Ausgang der wilden Schlucht, die von der Hohe des Gebirges in das fruchtbare Nordreich hinabfiihrt, sehen wir Jesus und seine Getreuen im Begriff nach Jerusalem hinauf- zugehen (Mk. x. 32), auch jene ebenso wie Jesus in Gefahr des Martyrertodes, besonders Jakob und Johannes, wie der Rangstreit voraussetzt, den der EvangeUst ausmalt. Von dem Ernste der Lage zeugt auch das neugefundene Evangelien- fragment. Jesus und der Pharisaer im Tempel, Auge in Auge einander gegeniiber— welch ein Bild ! Welche Sprache, vol! Hoheit, Peuer und Kraft — voU Scheinheiligkeit und Selbstgerechtigkeit ! Da ist, wie Harnack richtig sagt, nichts von Nachahmung. Wenn irgend eine, ist diese Szene geschichtlich wahr, ursprungHch echt. Rein nach dem Gesetz und rein vor Gott, Waschung der Haut im Davidsteiche Oder geistige Lauterung im Himmelstau der Gotteskindschaft und UnsterbHchkeit — das war die eine grosse Frage, die alles entschied. Der EvangeHst setzt an Stelle der Einheit die Mannigfaltigkeit. Er lasst Jesus reden gegen einen Eeigenbaum, gegen Geldwechsler und Taubenverkaufer, reden iiber VoUmacht, iiber den Erben des Wein- bergs, usw., bis die Mordgedanken der Hierarchen sich allmahlich zur Tat verdichten. Er lasst statt eines Gegners, Levi, die ganze 9. Jesus in Jerusalem : Lincke 331 Klerisei des idealjudischen Priesterstaates der Reihe nach auftreten, Oberpriester, Schriftgelehrte imd Volksalteste, Pharisaer und Hero- dianer, Sadduzaer, zuletzt noch einen Schriftgelehrten, der nioht feme war vom Reiche Gottes, weil er den Schwur der Essener, die Liebe zu Gott und den Menschen, lobend anerkennt. Der Evangelist hat die Frage iiber Rein und Unrein in die Missions- szenen verlegt, wo auch der scharfen Kritik des Korbanparagraphen die Spitze abgebrochen wird. Der Evangelist lasst Jesus klagen iiber Verstocktheit, er fiihrt die Zwolf ein statt der beiden Briiderpaare, um sie als Urapostel der Judenmission, als das taube und blinde Gefolge des Messias zu schildem. Die Blinden — das lehrt der neue Fund unwiderleglich — waren die ffierarchen. Sie waren es auch, die mit Korban und vielen ahnUchen Bestimmungen den Tempel ihres Gottes zur Rauberhohle machten. Der EvangeHst sucht das abzu- schwachen und kehrt das Verhaltnis der Jiinger und der Hierarchen um. So verwandelt er den antinomistischen GalUaer Jesus, der als solcher in Kapemaum offen auftrat, in einen judaischen Reform- prediger, der sich um Reinheit des Tempels bemiiht. In WirMichkeit hatte Jesus infolge der allgemeinen Lage ebenso wie einst Jeremias, der Anwalt der Rekabiten, um der Leiden seines Volkes wiUen Anlass, in Jerusalem selbst, als die Hilfe der Romer ausbheb, formlich und feierlich zu protestieren gegen die Vorherrschaft des Stuhles des Mose in Jerusalem und gegen die Vergewaltigung der religiosen Gemeinden des auch national selbstandigen Nordreichs. Jesus und seine Getreuen haben den Tempel wahrscheinhch nur einmal betreten. Das Betreten schon des geweihten Vorraumes (Hagneuterion) des Tempels war jedem Angehorigen eines andern Stanunes bei Todesstrafe verboten. Das Verbot, auf einer War- nungstafel in griechischer Sprache, ist noch erhalten. Die Galilaer handelten gegen dieses Verbot, und so hatten sie nach dem Rechte des jiidischen Priesterstaates — dieses Kirchenmistaates, wie ihn Mommsen trefiEend nennt — ihr Leben verwirkt. Dass auch Jakob und Johannes von den Judaem getotet wurden, bezeugt der syrische Bischof Papias von Hierapolis. Ostein 36 — nach den Untersuchungen von Keim und Hitzig — kam Jesus nach Jerusalem. Wenige Tage nach dem Feste traf auch ViteUius ein — zu spat ! Die jiidischen Hierarchen hatten ihr Werk getan. Der Hohepriester Kajaphas wurde abgesetzt. Jesus aber war nicht tot, er lebte. Der Eindruck seiner Personlichkeit war bereits eine Macht geworden, die voUen Ersatz leistete fiir die leibHche Gegenwart. Die Erinnerungen des Petrus lassen sich noch von der evangehstisch- paulinischen Ubermalung unterscheiden. Die Hohepunkte sind im Gredachtnis des Urapostels festgehalten : der Tag von Kapemaum, iiber den wir noch einen getreuen Bericht haben, dazu einige Nach- 332 VIII. The Christian Religion Mange aus der Predigt und Disputation, die grosse Landesversammlung in GalUaa mit der Eede von zweierlei Boden und den dazugehorigen Worten gegen die Pharisaer und der schonen Schilderung des essenischen Liebesmahles, der Gang nach der Kaiserstadt, die Verklarung auf dem heiligen Berge, der Gang nach Jerusalem und die Gefangennahme, die Markus selbst mit erlebte. Zu dieser Uberlieferung gehort das neu- gefundene Fragment. Es gleicht auf fallend den ' erratischen Blocken auf dem dogmatischen Felde des Markusevangeliums.' Paulinisch ist die Damonologie, die Christologie und die Eschatologie des Evangelisten, besonders die Formel der Glaubensforderung, die Einfiihrung der Zwolfzahl der Jiinger, die Herabwiirdigung des Petrus, des Satans in Person, und die Einteilung der Menscbheit in Juden und Heiden, ferner das zweite, auf Mose (und Zarathustra) deutende Bild der Verklarung, die Missionsansprache iiber Rein und Unrein, die VoUmacht der Berufung der Siinder, die Ehescheidungsfrage u. a. m. Paulinische Briefe und Markusevangelium verhalten sich zu einander wie Midrasch und Haggada. Der Synkretismus, der der pauUnischen Theologie eigentiimlich ist, verrat sich auch beim Evangelisten beson- ders in der Ubereinstimmung mit Empedokles, der, einst hochverehrt im Bunde der Pythagoreer, in einer Art Heilandsbuch als Religions- lehrer, Prophet und Arzt, besonders auch als Wundertater erscheint, und dessen Seelenwanderungslehre unter anderm auch von Damonen spricht, die in das Meer gejagt warden, ganz -wie bei Gerasa oder Gadara. Ein altes Evangelium begann so : ' Im fiinfzehnten Jahre der Regie- rung des Kaisers Tiberius (29) kam Jesus von Nazaret herab nach Kapemaum, einer Stadt in Gahlaa.' Markion entnahm aus diesem EvangeHum die Tatsache, dass Jesus statt des rachenden, strafenden Gottes der Judaer den gerechten, den guten Gott verkiindigt habe. Das war der Unterschied des Alten und des Neuen. Lukas hat das Jahr 29 von Jesus auf Johannes zu iibertragen versucht. Im Kampfe gegen Jerusalem, den Hochsitz und das Urbild der Hierarchie, ent- deckte Jesus die Rehgion, die universale Religion fiir alle Bewohner des romischen Reiches. Das war die Waffe des Propheten des Wortes und der Tat — in VoUmacht von Gott dem Vater. Dass diese Religion im Kampfe entdeckt wurde — gerade auch in ihrer reinsten Form — und im Kampfe sich bewahren muss, lehrt die Geschichte der Religion bis auf den heutigen Tag. Das Christentum ist von Grund aus universal. Um die Wende der Zeiten erbliihte in verschiedenen Landern des romischen Welt- reiches, aus Himmelssaat, auf Erden nie geschaut, aber langst von den Volkem ersehnt, in Persien, in Syrien, am schonsten in Ephraim, in Samarien und Galilaa, die Blume der Erlosung. Es war der ideale Gedanke der reinsten und innigsten, allgemeinen Verehrung Gottes, 9. Jesus in Jerusalem: Lincke 333 des Vaters, in freier, innerlich fester Vereinigung der Gemeinden des unsichtbaren Reiches Gottes vom Aufgang bis zum Niedergang. Die Friichte dieses Erlosungsglaubens kamen den Landern zu gute, wohin beim Abzug der romischen Legionen, die Bewohner mitwanderten nach andern, geschiitzteren Teilen des Reiches. Sie wanderten aus nach Agypten und Mauretanien, nach Italian und SiidgalUen, an die Donau und den Rhein, nach England und Schottland. Es waren Mithrasverehrer, Manichaer und Christen. 10 OBSERVATIONS ON THE GREAT CHURCH OF DAMASCUS By the prince OF TEANO. (Absteact) There is a commonly accepted tradition that in the Damascene Cathedral, during a certain period after the Arab conquest of Syria, Musulmans and Christians practised their respective rites contempora- neously in the same building. This tradition, if critically examined, can be shown to be erroneous. The shape and orientation of the building render its promiscuous use by the two communities extremely improbable. Moreover, a systematic study of the Arabic sources shows that the older and more trustworthy authorities know nothing of such a division of the church. The story appears for the first time in the writings of historians of the sixth century after the con- quest. Lastly the pilgrim Amulfus, who was in Damascus thirty years after the conquest, proves by his description of the Cathedral that the Christians alone used it in his time. [The paper was concluded by the story, briefly narrated in its correct version, of the manner in which the church passed from the hands of the Christians into those of the Musulmans in the time of the Caliph al-Walid.] 334 VIII. -.The Christian Religion 11 MONASTERIES AND MONASTICISM IN CENTRAL ASIA MINOR By GERTRUDE LOWTHIAN BELL I PEOPOSB to set before you some monastic plans' from central Asia Minor, and to consider what light they throw on the history of early monasticism on the Anatolian plateau. My observations are the result of some work which was undertaken by Sir W. Ramsay and myself last year in a district south-west of Konia. No one has as yet studied the very numerous monasteries, the ruins of which are scattered over hill and plain. The plans which I shall show you are the first that have been made, and cannot, unfortunately, be compared with similar constructions in parts of the country which I have not visited. Nor is this my only difficulty. The drawing of the plans was no easy matter owing to the terrible state of decay into which the monasteries have fallen and the irregularity of the architectural schemes. The decay is due in great part to the inferior quality of the workmanship. All over central Asia Minor, so far as my experience goes, the good work was reserved for the churches, while private houses and monastic buildings were miserably poor in construction. The same traits characterize early monastic buildings in other countries ; till the seventh century most of the monasteries of Europe were built of wood, and Lenoir has pointed out that archi- tectural formlessness was intimately connected with the absence of a strict monastic rule. The forerunner of the ordered community was the sohtary ascetic who was submitted to no law but that imposed by himself. As early as the third century hermits and anchorites had begun to people the deserts of Egypt and to seek refuge from persecution in the barren hills. The fame of holy men like St. Paul of Thebes and St. Anthony attracted others to share their solitude, and the first monasteries were no more than a collection of huts and caves inhabited by anchorites. The fourth century saw the gradual organization of these colonies, first by St. Pahom, then by Shenute. In 357-8 St. Basil of Caesarea in Cappadocia visited the monasteries of Syria, Egypt, and Mesopotamia, and brought back the rules to his own country. The rapidity with which the monastic idea travelled, and the influence it gained, are the most astounding features in the whole history of Christian civihzation. The early monasteries were of two kinds, the Laura, a loosely ' This paper was illustrated by lantern slides. 11. Monasteries in Central Asia Minor: Bell 335 organized group of monks living in separate cells and reflecting not inaccurately the societies of hermits of the third century, and the Coenobium where the bonds of the community were drawn more closely. In the West the Coenobium ended by absorbing into itself all monastic impulse, in the East the anchoritic spirit never entirely disappeared, and the Laura continued to hold its own, side by side with the Coenobium. The different character of the two types is architecturally well marked. The West goes forward towards the splendid developments of which the ideal plan of St. Gall is the earUest existing representative, the East holds largely to a somewhat inchoate scheme, the true heir to such communities as occupied the scattered shrines and cells of estabhshments like that of Bawit in Egypt. Justinian legislated in vain against the system of separate cells, ordering instead common dormitories and refectories that the monks might watch each other night and day. Under such influences as these grew up and developed the monastic institutions which St. Basil had implanted in central Anatolia, himself the author of the rule which is paramount in the East until this day. Some of the buildings that we studied must belong to the earhest period ; there is no reason for placing them later than the fifth century. I have planned monasteries in the Ah Summassi Dagh, in the Karadja Dagh, and in Hassan Dagh. On the summit of every peak I found a cruciform church or churches connected in every case with a small monastic building. As a rule the churches are in plan simple T-shaped cruciforms roofed with barrel vaults and a dome. Two examples of such churches had already been pubhshed by Strzygowski, one being a small chapel with a trifoliate apse lying near a large basilica and enclosed by traces of monastic buildings, Crowfoot suggested that the chapel was a baptistery ; Strzygowski was inclined, rightly as I beUeve, to regard it as a memorial chapel. Eresh evidence has brought me to the conclusion that the cross-shaped church is the memorial church of central Anatoha, and I reject in every case the baptistery hypothesis. In the first place we have found memorial inscriptions on two of these chapels ; secondly they occur frequently without a larger church, but a baptistery could scarcely stand alone ; thirdly they are situated on the summits of the hills, 6,000 feet above the sea in the Kara Dagh, 9,000 feet in Hassan Dagh, and such situa- tions would be unreasonable for a baptistery, though they would accord well with the traditions of the land if the buildings can be taken as memorial churches. I regard these small hill-top monasteries as estabhshments of clerks for the service of the shrine rather than as in the true sense monastic Monasteria dericorum are mentioned in the fourth century, and De Vogiie beheved aU the early Sjnian foundations to be of this character. 336 VIII. The Christian Religion What then were these little bodies of clerks grouped round a memorial church ? I believe the answer to this question can be given from literary sources. At the Council of Chalcedon in 451, special mention was made of Memoria, occupied by monks living under an archimandrite, who was not recognized as equal in rank to the head of a monastery proper. Nissen in his Regdung des Klosterwesens im Rhomaerreiche has suggested that these Memoria must be connected with the Martyria, or memorial churches, which are known to have been so common in Asia Minor. The architectural evidence seems to me to justify Nissen's conclusion to the full ; the Memorion lies in ruins upon every hill, a tiny monastery standing round a memorial church.^ The most significant example of the memorial monastery is a ruin that occupies the highest peak of the Kara Dagh, Mahaletch. A few feet below the church we found two Hittite inscriptions carved on either side of a passage or gateway, which was formed by an outcrop of rock. We beheve it to have been a mountain sanctuary, a Hittite High Place, the first that has yet been found. From the period, therefore, of the earliest Anatolian civiHzation this mountain-top had been regarded as sacred ground. The ancient gods, calhng themselves by other names, continued to be worshipped there ; the Christians re- sanctified Mahaletch by building upon it a memorial church and monastery. And here again we are in touch with one of the oldest traditions of the country. Sir W. Kamsay long ago came to the conclusion that in Asia Minor there was no holy place without a burial ; that a memorial chapel should have existed on every hill-top goes far to prove his view. The tradition is not yet dead : I cHmbed to the top of Hassan Dagh to visit the ruins of a cruciform chapel, and found the summit to be to this day a place of pilgrimage, sanctified by a Moslem grave. Besides the hill-top memorials there were other small monastic estabhshments, some of them on the low ground, and some on the sides of the mountains. There is one that stands on a shoulder half- way up Hassan Dagh (Boz Dagh) ; I found another, singularly regular in plan, near the foot of the same mountain, and with it may be compared a ruin in Bin Bir KUsse, the lower town of the Kara Dagh. In the upper town, Deghile, there is a group of buildings which has in all probabihty a different history; if we are right in our conclusions as to its origin, it throws an interesting light upon monastic develop- ment. We have here a house with a memorial church, the narthex of which contains graves. The house and church are connected by a prolongation of the narthex and by a portico, both of which were It is well to mention that the word memorion was used very loosely. Sir W. Ramsay gives an instance where the memorion was a gravestone made by a deacon for himself: Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia, No. 672, and so often. 11. Monasteries in Central Asia 3Iinor: Bell 337 added at different periods covering neariy a hundred years, as can be shown from the architecture and from inscriptions. Behind them lies another chapel in a walled enclosure which contains graves ; it is, however, impossible to say what is the exact relation of the chapel to the church. The kernel of the whole group seems to have been in this instance a private house. Now it was not contrary to early custom to turn a house into a monastic establishment ; I need only cite the example of St. Gregory, who converted his own house into a cloister for his monksi Architecturally the point is not without value. I suspect that there was Httle structural difference between the private house of central Anatoha and the early monastic estabHsh- ment. The one grew out of the other just as simply as the monastic life grafted itself upon the domestic, and the absence of any very stringent monastic rule made it possible to use the secular building for religious purposes without much alteration. There are three buildings in Deghile which show a very considerable advance in the monastic ideal ; they prove that the Coenobium with its stricter organization was not unknown to the plateau. The best preserved of the three consists of a series of large chambers disposed round two sides of a square. The church, which I beheve to be a later building, Ues on the third side, but there are traces of an earher wall which shut in the court on this side, and possibly the original chapel formed the south-east angle of the square. A great hall with columns down the centre must be taken as the common refectory ; the monks lodged in a number of parallel chambers ; then follows a vaulted storehouse or stable, a large room with a cup- board set in the thickness of the wall (lodging of the prior ?) and a tower-like structure at the comer. Almost the same series of rooms can be seen in the second monastery ; the third is more completely destroyed than either of the other two, but a long hne of ruined foundations show that its large chambers stretched for a considerable distance along the slope on which it hes. These three monasteries formed part of the defences of the town. We have reason to beheve that during the period of the Arab invasions (700 to 800 roughly dated) the Christian population of the Kara Dagh turned Deghile into a fortified stronghold, its position, high up on a shoulder of the mountain, giving it many strategic advantages. We can trace a roughly constructed wall that hnked together church and chapel and monastery on the south side of the town ; one of the monasteries guarded the approach from the lower town ; a second formed the north hne of the defences, while a third held the centre of the west side. The question that naturally suggests itself is, whether the monks who occupied these great houses may not have belonged to an order that combined a mihtary with a rehgious hfe, 338 VIII. The Christian Religion a prototype of the military orders of the middle ages. It is sigm- ficant that one of the inscriptions on the church attached to the monastery in the centre of the town is a memorial inscription to a certain Philaretos who is said to have ' died in the war '. Nor is it only in Deghile that the monks seem to have been charged with the defence of the city. In the lower town a monastery stands like an outpost over the road that leads from Konia. The ruins cover a bit of high ground north-west of the town and the position must always have been considered an important one ; for Sir W. Ramsay found on it traces of a much older fortification belonging to the period of the first civihzation in the Kara Dagh. Here, as on Mahaletch, the Christian buildings re-occupy the site chosen by the original inhabitants, and the memorial chapel of a Christian saint or holy man consecrates the point that had formerly been placed under the care of a more ancient divinity or hero. I am not concerned here to discuss the architectural features of the plans which I have submitted to you. They do not as a whole suggest any very specialized scheme. A church or churches with the clerical buildings grouped about them as the lie of the ground per- mitted, the whole surrounded by a wall that was supplemented as far as possible by the outcropping rock of the site, these are the main features of the central AnatoHan monasteries. Generally there was an attempt to provide some kind of open court within the enclosure, and the vaulted cistern that contained the water supply was placed in it. We may look in vain for anything resembling the mediaeval monasteries of Europe, with their infirmaries and libraries, guest- houses, and store-houses. Monasticism in central Asia Minor was a much less complicated matter. It was closely interwoven with the common life of the people. The ascetics watching over remote shrines in the mountains were but a development of the ancient traditions of the land ; the warrior monks of the fortified monasteries in the towns took their share in the civic existence by contributing to its security, and their important duties led to a higher organization which is reflected in the buildings they inhabited. It must not be forgotten that church and monastery were the only civic monuments of the land. Such records of the hfe of the community as were kept were placed upon the sanctuaries.'- If we are ever to arrive at any realization of the history of the people, a history that shall be more than a bare catalogue of invasions and battles and the birth and death of emperors, it must be through the evidence offered by the architectural and epigraphic remains of religious foundations. ' The office of tribune is mentioned in an inscription on the fortified monastery of the lower town, that of eponymous tribune in a painted inscription on another large church. 12 LES CONFRERIES RELIGIEUSES DANS L'ISLAMISME ET LES ORDRES MILITAIRES DANS LE CATHOLICISME Par G. BONET-MAURY On salt aujourd'hui qu'il y a dans le culte musulman des pretres «t des saints, des monast^res et des confr^ries religieuses. Ces der- nieres ont meme joue un role tres actif , non seulement dans le develop- pement de I'lslamisme, mais en politique, et aussi dans les guerres des Arabes centre les nations chretiennes. Les possessions de la France en Afrique nous ont appris k les mieux connaitre. Je me propose, grace aux etudes de nos officiers et de nos interpretes,^ I. de rechercher le Heu et la date de naissance du culte des saints et des confreries musukaanes ; II. de rappeler brievement I'origine des principaux ordres militaires et militants du Catholicisme ; enfin III. de m'enquerir s'il y a eu des rapports entre ces congregations des deux cultes rivaux ? ou ont eu lieu leurs points de contact ? si les f ondateurs des confreries musuknanes ont copie les ordres cathoUques ou reciproquement ? Telles sont les questions sur lesquelles je voudfais apporter un peu de lumiere. Apres la mort de Mohammed, et a mesure que le Prophete disparais- sait dans la gloire de son apoth^ose, les croyants eprouverent le besoin d'avoir aupres d' Allah des mediateurs plus facilement accessibles que Mohammed ou les anges, pour faire exaucer leurs prieres. On <3ommen9a par attribuer aux amis de Mohammed un pouvoir d'inter- cession aupres de Dieu, on les appela Wouelis — ce furent les premiers saints — et bientot on leur attribua le pouvoir de faire des miracles. Chacun a sa specialite. La nuit du 27 du Kamadan est la plus propice pour invoquer les wouelis {Leilet el Kadr). Puis, on eleva en leur honneur un monument, plus ou moins grand, suivant leur puissance, ikoubbah ou turbeh) devant lequel on aUume la nuit une lampe qui brule 3)erpetuellement. C'est la que chaque annee, a I'anniversaire de naissance du marabout, les pelerins viennent porter leurs prieres •et leurs offrandes. Les Musulmans ont aussi leurs saintes ou cheikkat, ' L. Binn, Marabovis et Khouans, Alger, 1884. — A. Le Chatelier, Les Confreries rdigieuses de VHedjaz, Paris, 1887. — Depont et Coppolani : Les Confreries j-digiewes musvlmanes, Alger, 1897. z2 340 VIII. The Christian Religion mais en petit nombre. Le culte des wouelis est encore aujourd'hm florissant en Egypte, au Maroc, etc. Si cette veneration ofEre des ressemblances avec I'hagioduHe des CathoHques, il y a pourtant des differences a noter': 1 le woueli n'est pas, comme le saint catholique, canonise par une autorite ecclesiastique, mais par la voix populaire ; 2 il n'est pas venere dans les mosquees, qui sont consacrees exclusive- ment au culte d'AUah, mais dans la koubbah ou la turbeh, lieu presume de sa sepulture; 3 on ne fait du 'saint musulman' aucune repre- sentation ni en sculpture, ni en peinture, tout au plus est-il pariois question dans sa legende d'une sahina ou aureole, qui entourait son visage pendant qu'il priait avec ferveur. Les Musulmans out aussi leurs ascetes et leurs moines. Les dervicheS (de derouis, qui signifie ' pauvre ' en persan), originaires de la Perse, se distinguaient par leur pauvrete et leur ardeur a la priere. lis se grouperent d'abord au nombre de deux ou trois /oira dans des retraites, appelees ribats,^ analogues aux 'laures' des ermites de la Thebaide, ou aux lavras de la Russie contemporaine. Devenus plus nombreux, ils formerent des zaouias ou convents, en general pres la tombe d'un marabout. II y a eu aussi des convents de femmes, par exemple celui qui fut fonde en Egypte (a.d. 806) par Zejnab, surnommee la fille de la Bagdadaise, et un autre a Monastir, pres Sousse, en Tunisie. Quant aux confreries musubnanes, ou ' Societes de Khouans ', eUes sont dues a trois causes : 1 le besoin d'honorer les marabouts morts ou les saintes ; 2 le foufisme ; et 3 I'esprit d' association et de propagande. On sait le role capital que les confreries des Almoravides et des Almo- hades jouerent au Maroc, puis dans I'Espagne jusqu'a 1273. Ce furent encore des derviches, tels qu'Abd-el-Kader, Alipha-Bah et Othman del Fodio, qui furent a la tete des insurrections politico- reUgieuses au nord-ouest de I'Afrique au xix® siecle. Les caracteres propres du Khouan, ou moine musulman, sont, comme pour le religieux catholique, la pauvrete volontaire, la vie solitaire ou conventuelle, consacree a la priere et aux mortifications, et le zele missionnaire ; mais il differe de lui par le manque de continence. Le trait caracteristique de ces confreries est I'appel a la guerre sainte ou djehad ; on distingue les ChadeHya, les Qadriya, et les Senoussiya. Ce dernier ordre, fonde par Mohammed ben Ah el Senoussi (m. 1839), est d'autant plus r6pandu et redoutable en Afrique qu'un Khouan pent s'y affiUer, sans cesser de faire partie d'une autre confrerie. Son cheik I'a enrole sous sa banniere — les tribus guerrieres du Ouadai, ^ Goldziher, ' Le Culte des Saints chez les Musulmans,' Bevue d'histoire des religions, 1880, pp. 180-206. , Comp. Carra de Vaux, Le MahomUisme et le Genie arien, Paris, 1898. ' La premiere ribat fut fondee au Maroc, en 1040, prls du marabout d' Abdallah- en-Yaoine. 12. Confreries Religieuses : Bonet-Maury 341 du Fezzan, Benghazi, etc. ; sa tactique est de faire le vide autour des Europeens et puis de les aneantir. Toutes ont d'ailleurs une organisation semblable. A leur tete se trouve un oheik, heritier spirituel du fondateur de la confr6rie et residant pres de sa tombe. II a sous ses ordres des Khalifes ou nacpb, ses lieutenants et des reqqas ou messagers charges de porter ses ordres aux differentes zaouias ou monasteres. Chacune a pour chef un inoqadd&m, ou prieur, qui a sous ses ordres les Khouans ou f reres et les Ereddams, sorte de freres lais. Le moqaddem veille h I'execution des instructions du cheik et a I'observation des rites ; il est charge- de I'education des novices et preside a I'initiation des nouveaux membres, qui s'engagent a pratiquer I'obeissance, la discretion, et le devouement. II y a chaque annee, a la zaouia centrale, une assemblee generale ou chapitre de la confrerie. II . Voyons maintenant les ordres monastiques cathoUques. Nous ne ■traiterons ici que de ceux qui ont joue un role conquerant et mis- sionnaire, et qu'on pent appeler d'un seul mot les ordres militaires. Ces ordres sont nes de I'union du monachisme et de la chevalerie, a I'occasion des croisades contre les Sarrazins (Orient) ou les Maures (Espagne). Les papes, jaloux de maintenir le bon ordre parmi les croises, voulurent renforcer la discipUne mUitaire, qui s'etait montree insuffisante, par le triple voeu monastique. lis encouragerent done la formation d' ordres de moines armes. Ces derniers s'engageaient a faire aux Infideles une guerre a merci. Les principaux f urent : 1 les Cheva- Jiers du Temple ouTempliers (a.d.1119); 2 les Chevaliers de Saint- Jean de Jerusalem (a.d. 1143), qui, apres la reprise de la Palestine par les Sarrazins, prlrent le nom de ChevaUers de Rhodes, puis de Chevaliers de Malte ^ ; 3 les ChevaUers Teutoniques ou Hospitahers de Sainte-Marie de Jerusalem (a.d. 1190), qui a partir de 1226 se consacrerent a la conversion des Slaves, payem de la Prusse orientale, et de laCourlande; 4 les Chevaliers Porte-glaive, employes de meme a la conversion par la force armee des payem de Livonie (a.d. 1202), qui se fondirent ,avec I'ordre precedent. Vers la meme 6poque,a 1' autre bout de I'Europe, parurent en Portugal (5) I'ordre des ChevaUers d'Avis (a.d. 1162)^ et en Espagne celui de Calatrava (a.d. 1153), fond6 par des moines Benedictins, transformes en chevaUers, pour la conquete et defense de la vUle d'Oreto contre les Maures ; 6 celui d' Alcantara fonde sur les frontieres de la Castille, pour la def^dre et specialement la Vierge , ^ Les Chevaliers de Saint- Jean, ou Johannites, ont et6 r^tablis au xix« sieele comme Hospitallers en AUemagne, par le roi de Prusse, Fr^d^ric Guillaume IV (1852), et en Angleterre; dans ce dernier pays ils ont fonde des Hopitaux, pour secours aux blesses en temps de guerre ou k la campagne. 342 VIII. The Christian Religion. immaculee centre les Infideles. Ces demiers, sur les plaintes des maris de la viUe voisine, furent autorises a se marier (a.d. 1540).^ Tous ces ordres avaient a peu pres la meme organisation : a leur tete un grand-maitre ('magister militiae'), revetu d'un pouvoir absolu. Les afiSlies se divisaient en trois classes : les pretres, les chevaliers, les freres servants. On n'etait initie qu'apres des epreuves mysterieuses et redoutables. Tous etaient tenus au secret rigoureux et a Tobeis- sance, vis-a-vis du grand-maitre et de ses lieutenants. On tenait chaque annee un Chapitre de I'ordre. Les demiers ordres miUtaires dis- parurent apres la conquete de la Terre-Sainte par les Turcs et apres la conversion d' Albert de Brandebourg, grand-maitre des Chevaliers Teutoniques, au Lutheranisme (a.d. 1525). Mais, alors meme, naquit en Espagne la Societe des Jesuites qui, bien que ses moines ne portassent point les armes, etaient essentiellement miUtaires, tant par eur hie- rarchic que par leur discipline et la guerre a mort contre le Protestan- tisme : ce furent eux qui dechainerent sur I'Allemagne les horreurs de la Guerre de Trente ans. Plus pres de nous, Leon xin suivit la tradition des grands papes des xi^ et xne siecles, lorsqu'il autorisa le Cardinal Lavigerie, archeveque d' Alger, a instituer la milice des Freres armes du Sahara, dits ' Peres blancs,' pour la protection des negres chretienS et la sainte guerre contre les marchands d'esclaves. Ill II nous reste a examiner s'il y a eu des rapports entre les confreries musulmanes et les ordres miUtaires ou miUtants cathoUques. Les unes et les autres s'etant developpes paraUelement du xii« au xvi^ siecle, c'est a cette epoque qu'ils ont pu entrer en relations. Ou ont-ils eu des points de contact ? D'abord, en Palestine et en Egypte, au temps des croisades ; pendant les treves, on sait que les Templiers et les Johannites eurent de frequents rapports avec les Sarrazins ^ ; ensuite, an Magreb, c'est-a-dire, au nord-ouest de I'Afrique, ou les marchands de Pise et de Genes, de MarseiUe et de Barcelone, f aisaient le commerce avec les Musulmans de Tunisie, d'Algerie et du Maroc. Dans ce dernier pays, il restait encore au xiiie siecle quelques egUses chretiennes. Les emirs de Tunis, de Tlemcen etc., le sultan du Maroc, avaient a leur service des frendjis, c'est-a-dire des troupes frangaises ou espagnoles.^ Mais c'est en Espagne que ces rapports furent le plus etroits. Ce furent sans doute les confreries des Almohades et des Abnoravides qui suggererent aux Portugais et'<,Espagnols I'idee et I'organisation des * Guillaume de Tyr, Chronique de la Croisade. Jacques de Vitry, idem. Lessing, Nathan der Weise. ' Mas-Latrie, Relations du Magreb avec les nations chretiennes, dans VAfrique occidentale, Paris, 1886. 12. Confreries Religieuses : Bonet-Maury 343 ordres d'Avis, de Calatrava, et d' Alcantara ; les deux derniers noms aont arabes. D'ailleurs, bien apr^s la conquete de Grenade les Maures furent toleres dans le midi de I'Espagne; par exemple, la confrerie musulmane des Qadrija n'en fut expulsde qu'en a.d. 1524. L'in- fluence arabe s'y prolongea jusqu'a la fin du xvi^ si^cle, ce dont I'archi- tecture, le costume, la langue, les moeurs, le theatre et mime le culte ofErent des preuves multiples. Nous ne traiterons ici que le dernier point. M. Dieulafoy, dans sa belle etude sur la Predestination et le libre arbitre dans les tragiques espagnols,^ a demontre que les principaux personnages figurant dans les pieces de Calderon, de Cervantes, et de Saavedra sont imbus du dogme de la predestination, qui est le trait une litterature dite aljemiada 6tait ecrite en langue castillane, mais caracteristique de la th^odicee coranique. Jusqu'au xv^ siecle, toute avec des caracteres arabes ; on trouve des vers de la Vulgate graves en lettres foufiques aux portes de plusieurs cathedrales. Dans beaucoup, d'eglises on Usait I'office et les Evangiles, traduits en arabe. Musul- mans et Chretiens chomaient parfois les memes fetes, par exemple la nuit de la Saint-Jean, pendant laqueUe on observait une sorte de treve de Dieu. D'apres tons ces rapports, on ne sera pas etonne de trouver, dans la constitution des Jesuites, con9ue par im militaire espagnol, tant d' analogies avec les regies de certaines confreries musul- manes, par exemple les Chadeliya.^ Ces traits de ressemblance sont au nombre de quatre : 1 Quant a I'esprit et I'objet des deux ordres, tous deux sont de mystique inspiration, mais avec ume tendance militante et agressive; tous deux furent f ondes ' ad maiorem Dei gloriam ' et le triomphe des vrais croyants sur les Infideles ; seulement pour les Chadeliya, c'est Mohammed qui est le Prophete, tandis qu'aux yeux d'Ignace c'est Jesus qui est le vrai Prophete ou Messie et le Pape est son vicaire sur la terre. 2 Dans la methode de preparation et la ceremonie d'initiation, le noviciat des Khouans dure deux ans et davantage ; U. consiste dans TaccompUssement de certains travaux domestiques et la recitation de prieres. Si-ChadeU, fondateur des Chadeliya, et Abder-Rahman, fondateur des Rahmaniya, ont prescrit a leurs adeptes des ' exercices spirituels ' qui produisent chez eux une surexcitation mentale, donnant lieu souvent a des phenomenes hysteriques. Or on sait que les 'ExercitiaspirituaHa' d'Ignace de Loyola determinent une obsession mentale et une annihilation de la volonte. ' Dieulafoy, La Predestination, dans les tragiques espagw)ls. Notices de 1' Aca- demic des Sciences morales et politiques, Paris, mai 1908. ' Hennami Mfiller, Les Origines de la Compagnie de Jesus. Ignace et Lainez, Paris, 1808. 344 VIII. The Christian Religion 3 II y a aussi des ressemblances frappantes entre la ceremonie d'initiation des Khouans et la prise d'habit d'unreligieux. catholique., Le nouveau frere est interroge par le cheik sur sa foi en AUah et Mohammed, apres quoi il prete serment de lui obeir en tout, de ne jamais abandonner la voie, ni reveler Voueid ou formule de priere speciale a la confrerie. Le cheik alors lie le neophyte, par un cordon, au bras des autres IQiouans et lui coupe deux cheveux a 1' occiput. N'est-ce pas une sorte de tonsure ? ^ 4 Mais ce qu'il y a de plus frappant, c'est la ressemblance entre le gouvemement et le priacipe de la disciphne des Jesuites et les confreries musulmanes. A la tete de celles-ci est le cheik ou grand-maitre, qui a un pouvoir absolu sur les naqib, les moqaddems et les Khouans. II ne les consulte que s'il lui plait et les revoque a son gre. Les sub- ordonnes lui doivent une obeissance aveugle. ' Tu seras entre les mains de ton cheik,' dit la regie de I'ordre des Rahmaniya, 'comme le cadavre entre les mains du laveur des morts. Obeis-lui en tout ce qu'il ordonne, car c'est Dieu meme qui parle par sa voix. Lui d^sobeir, c'est encourir la colore de Dieu!' Lisez, maintenant, la lettre d'Ignace de Loyola aux Jesuites portugais sur 1' obeissance, ou les Constitutions de la Societe de Jesus (part vi, ch. i), et vous y trouvez ces mots : ' Que ceux qui vivent dans I'obeissance se laissent mener parleurs superieurs comme un cadavre, qui se laisse retourner et manier.' Et si Ton objectait qu'Ignace n'a pu connaitre les confreries musulmanes, je repondrais que, d' apres les biographies ecrites par des Jesuites, il s'est rencontre au moins deux fois avec des Musulmans et a discute avec eux sur la rehgion; d'abord en 1522, lorsqu'il quitta le chateau de Loyola, pour resider a Manresa, et, I'annee suivante, lors de son sejour a Jerusalem. D'ailleurs en sa quaUte d'ex-mUitaire, il avait certes observe la foi robuste et la forte disciphne des Khouans. Voici nos conclusions : 1 Les confreries musulmanes, pas plus que le culte des woueUs, ne sont une imitation des saints ou des ordres monastiques cathohques, mais ils sont le produit des memes aspirations mystiques ; elles eurent pour berceau I'Arabie, I'Egypte et le nord- ouest de I'Afrique. 2 Ces confreries ont exerce une influence sur les ordres militaires cathohques, entre autres sur les Templiers, les Chevahersde Calatrava, d' Alcantara, etc. C'est surtout en Espagne que Ton trouve leur empreinte profonde, par exemple, dans la constitution des Jesuites. 3 Ces confreries, entre autres les Chadehya et les Senoussiya, exercent encore aujourd'hui une action missionnaire et mUitaire considerable au nord de I'Afrique, et particulierement au Maroc. 4 L'Islamisme est done loin d'etre immobile et degenere, mais, * R. P. Louis Petit, ies confreries musulmanes, Paris, 1902, ohez Bloud. 12. Confreries Beligieuses : Bonet-Manry 345 obeissant aux memes lois psychologiques qui ont preside au d^veloppe- ment des autres cultes, il a suivi son. evolution propre et s'est ac- commode aux besoins du coeur humain et aux divers milieux. Comme I'a dit justement M. Houdas : ' L'idee du progres de la forme reli- gieuse est gravee au fond du coeur de tout Musulman.'^ 13 L'AUTHENTICITE DES CANONS DE SARDIQUE Par E. Ch. BABUT La question que j'aborde est une des plus importantes qu'ait a resoudre I'liistorien de la papaute au temps de I'Empire remain. S'ilest vrai que le grand concile de Sardique (Sofia), en 343, ait con- fere, ou, si Ton veut, reconnu a I'eveque de Rome une juridiction de cassation sur tout I'episcopat catholique, on est en droit d'afBrmer que la souveraiaete ecclesiastique des papes fut surtout I'oeuvre de I'Eglise eUe-meme. Si les canons de Sardique etaient faux, le pouvoir que les papes exercerent au rv® et au v^ siecle, de juger en instance supreme les eveques occidentaUx, n'aurait eu d'autre fondement juridique que les decrets de Valentinien i^r, de Gratien et de Valen- tinien m. Le sujet a ete debattu, il y a quelques annees, avec abondance, avec quelque passion theologique, avec beaucoup d'utilite. Le point de depart de la controverse fut un memoire de M. J. Friedrioh, pubUe en 1901 et complete par I'auteur en 1902 et 1903^. Frappe surtout du fait que les Canons de Sardique ne sont cites par les papes, jusqu'au vie siecle, que sous le nom de Canons de Nicee, et qu'ils portent dans plusieurs manuscrits le titre de Ganones Nicaeni,M. Friedrich soutint que le concile de Sardique n'avait publie aucun reglement discipli- naire, et que les pretendus Canons de Sardique n'etaient que de faux canons de Nicee, fabriques a Rome (par un Africain) en I'an 416. Deux siecles plus tard environ, desesperant de faire accepter le faux comme une vraie piece niceenne, on aurait pris le parti, toujours a Rome, de I'intituler Canons de Sardique ; et Ton aurait fait subir au texte apocryphe les quelques modifications rendues necessaires par ce changement d' etiquette. ' Houdas, U Islamiame, Paris, 1904. • ' Sitzungsberichte der pJiilos-Mstor. Klasse der kdn. hayr. Ahad. der Wias. ■zu Munchen, Jahrg. 1901 : ' Die Unachtheit der Canones von Sardica.'^ — Articles complementaires dans la meme Collection, Jalirg. 1902 et 1903. 346 VIII. The. Christian Beligion Ce systeme a ete combattu par plusieurs savants, entre qui sont MM. Turner ^ d'Oxford et Funk ^ de Tubingue, et il a et6 prouve faux. Les principaux faits etabUs a I'encontre de M. Friedricb sont les suivants : le concile de Sardique de 343 a pubHe des canons ; c'est par suite d'une confusion sincere que ces canons ont ete appeles a Rome canons de Nicee ; les citations de ces canons commencent, dans les lettres des papes, non en 416, mais vers 375 ; la citation qui fut f aite des canons xviii et xix ^ au concile de Carthage de 350 environ est authentique ; enfin les canons portent leur marque d'origine, car les eveques qui y sont nommes (et rien n'autorise a croire que leurs noms aient ete introduits apres coup dans la piece) prirent tons reellement part au concile de Sardique, alors qu'un seul, Hosius de Cordoue, avait siege a Mcee : or, si Ton eut f abrique un faux concile de Nicee, on eut pris ses membres sur la liste des Patres Nicaeni. La refutation est complete. Fournit-elle en outre une de- monstration d'authenticite suffisante, et cette demonstration vaut- eUe pour toute la piece sjaiodale telle que nous la possedons ? Cela est admis, si je ne me trompe, par tout le monde. Et pourtant ! En dehors de la mauvaise raison tiree de 1' appellation fausse de Canones Nicaeni, M. Friedrich a allegue, centre I'authenticite, des arguments que je renonce, faute de temps, a reprendre aujourd'hui, mais qui gardent, apres les demonstrations opposees et malgre la ruine du systeme, une force presque invincible. D'une part des preuves d'authenticite irrefutables, d'autre part, en faveur de I'in- authenticite, la probabihte la plus inquietante. Pour mon compte, je suis demeure longtemps dans la contemplation de ce mystere historique. J'ai fini par voir qu'il n'y avait la aucun mystere, que les arguments opposes, au lieu de se rencontrer, se croisent, et que les faits 6tablis d'un cote, les faits presque etablis de 1' autre, se conciHent de la fa9on la plus natureUe. Les quasi-preuves d'inauthenticite portent exclu- sivement sur ceux des canons de Sardique qui interessent le Saint- Siege; ce sont les canons m, iv, vii et x, premiere partie (disons x"), du texte latin ; je les appellerai pour plus de brievete les canons remains. Les preuves d'authenticite ne valent que pour certains des autres canons, comme les numeros i, xni, xvi, xvni-xix, attestes au ive siecle. J'ai done ete amene a chercher si la solution du pro- ' ' The Genuineness of the Sardican Canons,' Journal of Theological Studies, 1901, p. 370 et suiv. ' KirchengeschichUiehe Abhandlungen und UnteraucJiungen, t. iii, Paderbom, 1907, p. 159 et suiv. ' Tous ces num6ros se rapportent au texte latin, tel que le donue Brans, Canones . . . Saecvlorum, iv, v, vi, vn, Berlin, 1839. II y a une correction tres importante a faire k ce texte : la suppression, au Can. ni, du mot Itdio (Turner, art. cit6, p. 376). 13. Les Canons de Sardique: Bahut 347 bleme ne serait pas foumie par rexamen de la piece synodale elle- meme, si les quatre canons remains n'y auraient pas ete insures frauduleusement, et, puisqu'un faux est toujours reconnaissable, si les traces de cette insertion ne seraient pas restees apparentes. C'est le resultat de cette recherche que je vais exposer ici. L'hypothese ou i'avais ete logiquement conduit par I'etude des memoires de Friedrich et de Funk m'a paru etre verifiee par plusieurs indices concordants. J'indiquerai les plus apparents dans cette note pro- visoire et sommaire. Premier indice : les canons remains interrompent la suite et I'or- donnance des deliberations du synode. Les canons i et n enoncent des regies relatives a I'election et k I'ordination des eveques. Avec le canon ni on passe brusquement a trois questions toutes differentes, dont la principale est I'appel a Rome des eveques qui ont perdu quelque proces (on a eu tort d'en- tendre qu'U s'agissait seulement des eveques deposes) devant un synode. Le canon iv traite encore des appels a Rome. Avec le canon v ^ on revient aux ordinations d'eveques ; avec le canon vn, aux appels a Rome. VoUa une deliberation bien sautiUante. n est vrai que le canon vn, dans la version grecque de la piece synodale, porte le n° v, et fait ainsi suite aux canons m et iv, qu'il doit completer. Get ordre de classement est evidemment plus rationnel. Admettons (ce qui n'est pas prouve) qu'U soit primitif par rapport a I'ordre des textes latins ^ : il reste que les trois premiers canons remains s'intercalent an milieu des canons relatifs a la creation des eveques. On continue au canon v des textes latins (vi du texte grec) a reglementer les elections, comme si les canons nr, iv, vn n'avaient pas detoume I'attention vers un autre objet. La piece aurait plus de suite et de coherence si les trois premiers canons remains etaient ecartes. De meme le quatrieme des canons remains (x") apparait dans le contexte comme une surcharge. Le canon vm interdit aux eveques d'Afrique de se rendre en personne a la cour ; le canon ix ordonne que les eveques africains qui auraient une requete a presenter au prince devraient la faire porter par leur diacre. C'est a ces deux prescriptions que fait suite natureUement la reflexion d'Alypius de Megare, qui forme aujourd'hui le canon ^. ' Alypius episcopus dixit : Si propter pupillos et viduas vel ' V et vr. Mais je crois le canon vi faux, comma les quatre canons lomains. • M. Turner a etabli que le texte grec est une traduction d'un texte latin. Mais on pourrait supposer que I'original latin du texte grec etait plus correct que tous nos manuscrits latins. 848 VIII. The Christian Religion laborantes, qui causas non iniquas habent, susceperint peregrinatioms incommoda, habebunt aliquid rationis; nunc vero cum ea postulent praecipue, quae sine iavidia hominum at sine reprehensione esse non possunt, non necesse est eos ire ad comitatum.' Bien moins directe est la liaison de cette remarque d'Alypius avec le canon x'' : 'Qui vero Romam venerint, sicut dictum est (ce mot renvoie mal a propos aux canons m, iv et vn), sanctissimo fratri et coepiscopo nostra Romanae ecclesiae preces quas habent tradant, ut et ipse prius examinet, si honestae et iustae sunt, et praestet diligentiam atque sollicitudinem, ut ad comitatum perferantur. Universi dixe- runt placere sibi et honestum esse consilium.' Ainsi, dans le second cas comme dans le premier, U y a un indice exteme d'iaterpolation. II II y aurait en second lieu des remarques a faire sur la redaction des canons remains, qui presentent tous des vices de forme, et des ■vices surprenants ; mais U serait imprudent d'argumenter en ce sens sans avoir recueiUi des informations completes sur la tradition manu- scrite du texte^. J'en viens a la preuve d'inautbenticite la plus frappante ; eUe pourrait etre decisive. Sur deux points les dispositions des quatre canons contredisent les canons memes de Sardique. 1 Le canon ni contient la decision suivante : Osius episcopus dixit : Illud quoque necessario adiciendum est, ut episcopi de sua proviTicia ad aliam provinciam, in qua sunt episcopi, non transeant, nisi forte a fratribus suis invitati, ne videamur ianuam claudere cari- tatis. . . Sjmodus respondit : Placet.' Or on voit au canon xiv: ' Osius episcopus dixit : Et hoc quoque statuere debetis, ut epir Scopus si ex aha civitate convenerit ad aham civitatem, vel ex provincia ad aliam provinciam et ambitioni magis quam devotioni serviens ■voluerit in ahena civitate multo tempore residere : forte enim evenit ■episcopum loci non esse tam instructum neque tam doctum ; is vero qui advenit, incipiat contemnere eum, et frequenter facere sermonem ut dehonestet et infirmet ilhus personam ita ut ex hac occasione non dubitet reUnquere assignatam sibi ecclesiam et transeat ad ahenam. Definite ergo tempus, quia et non recipi episcopum in- ' Depuis que cette note a ete redigee, M. C. H. Turner a bien voulu me communi- quer un texte critique des canons, etabli par lui, et qui repose sur la collation de presque tous les manuscrits, de tous les manusorits qu'il juge importants. •Ge texte ne fait que confirmer les remarques que permet de faire le texte de Bruns. 13. Les Canons de Sardique : Babut 349 humanum est, et si diutius resideat perniciosum est.' (On decide qu'un eveque ne pourra demeurer absent de sa cite pendant plus de trois semaines. Cette decision est rappel6e au canon xx.) Ainsi le meme cbncile qui vient d'interdire absolument a un dvlquo de passer de sa province dans une autre aurait ensuite examine les inconvenients du trop long s6jour d'un 6veque hors de sa cite ou de sa province, et fixe pour ce sejour un maximum de trois semaines. Les auteurs du canon xrv avaient done oubli6 le canon ni ? On voudra peut-etre que les eveques vises au canon xrv comme s6joumant trop longtemps liors de leur province aient b6n6ficie de I'exception prevTie au canon m : nisi forte invitati. Mais le mot du canon xrv ; et non reci'pi inhumanum est, interdit cette exegese complaisante. On admettra encore comme possible (?) que le concUe ait reellement oubHe le decret qu'il venait de rendre : mais la motion xrv a pour auteur le meme Hosius qui a fait la motion ni. II est bien plus probable que le concile qui a vote le canon xrv ignorait le pretendu canon m. 2 II me parait de meme impossible de conciUer le canon x* avec les decisions qui le precedent et le suivent. Le canci: vin interdit aux eveques (on pense surtout aux Africains) de se rendre ad comitatum, a moins d'avoir ete mandes par le prince. Le canon ix ordonne que les eveques qui auraient une requete a presenter au prince enverront a la cour un diacre. Le dit diacre, au depart, passera a I'eveche de la metropole, et le metropolitain lui remettra des lettres d'introduction pour les eveques des residences imperiales. On arrive au canon x" : ' Qui vero Romam venerint, sicut dictum est, sanctissimo fratri et coepiscopo nostro Romanae ecclesiae preces quas habent tradant, ut et ipse prius examiuet, si honestae et iustae sunt, et praestet diligentiam atque soUicitudinem, ut ad comitatum perferantur. Universi dixerunt placere sibi et honestum esse con* cUium.' Le qui initial designe certainement des eveques, car I'avant-demiere phrase a pour sujet episcopi, la demiere episcopus, et d'autre part le sujet inexprime de la phrase qui suit est encore episcopi. Ces eveques, qui Romam venerint, sont, en arrivant, porteurs de suppHques ; il est impossible de supposer qu'ils n'aient form6 le projet de presenter leur suppHque que pendant leur sejour k Rome (cas vise par le concile de Carthage de 407, Cod. Eccl. Afric. No. ovi), car I : le canon dit preces quas habent, et non si quas ibi preces habuerird vel receperint, et 2 : le et ipse prius examinet suppose que la suppHque des Eveques qui arrivent a Rome a d6j^ ete examinee par leur metropoUtain. Enfin, comme aux canons vnt, x^", xi et xn on ne pense a d'autres voyages d'eveques que les voyages ad comitatum, les eveques qui 350 VIII. The Christian Religion Bomam venerint sont des voyageurs qui se sont mis en route pour se rendre a la cour, et qui passent par Rome. Notons encore que le concile de Sardique ne legiferant ici que pour I'empire de Constant,^ et les suffragants directs du pape etant hors de cause,^ le canon x"^ ne peut guere interesser que les Africains et, si Ton veut, les eveques d'Achaie. Comment done les eveques, auxquels il etait tout a I'heure interdit purement et simplement de quitter leur province pour porter leurs suppliques, ont-ils maintenant la faculte de porter en personne ces suppliques a Rome ? lis ne peuvent arriver a Rome que s'ils ont viole les canons vm et ix. Comment le concile fournit-il a ces de- linquants le moyen legal d'echapper a la loi qu'il vient d'etablir, et de faire quand meme parvenir leurs suppliques avec chance de succes ? Le canon vm disait f ormellement : ' Quicumque . . . preces habueriat vel acceperint, per diaconum suum mittant.' Ainsi il n'est plus temps, quand I'eveque etranger arrive en personne a Rome^ d'examiner si la requete qu'il porte est honnete et juste. Quelle que soit sa requete, U est en faute. Au reste, le metropolitain, apres avoir re§u la requete de son suffragant (on a vu qu'U y a dans le canon x» une allusion a un premier examen de la requete fait dans la province du requerant), ne I'a pas renvoyee au suffragant lui-meme, mais I'a remise au diacre du suffragant avec les lettres qui recommandent le diacre. Mais voyons les canons xi et xii. XI. Les eveques dont la ville est situee in canali (les candles sont certaines voies, munies de relais, que suivent les courriers d'Etat *), quand ils verront un eveque etranger traverser leur viUe, s'enquerront de I'objet de son voyage. S'ils decouvrent que le voyageur se rend ad comitatum, ils ne le recevront pas a leur communion. xn. (Mesure provisoire, applicable seulement jusqu'au moment ou les r^glements qui precedent ne pourront etre ignores de personne.) Les eveques des cites situees sur un canalis devront avertir le voyageur et I'engager a rentrer aussitot dans son diocese, en laissant son diacre poursuivre seul le voyage commence. VoUa qui cadre parfaitement avec les canons vm, ix, x^" : tout eveque qui a pris en personne la route de Milan pour porter une ^ En efiet : 1 H y avait schisme au moment du concile de Sardique entre les deux moitife de I'Empire. — 2 Le canon vm ne connait qu'un rdigiosus imperator, le canon ix qu'un fdix et heatus Augustus. ' Le et ipse du canon x" suppose tin examen anterieur a celui du pape; et d' autre part on ne peut croire que le concile de Sardique ait 16gif6r6 sp6cialement pour la province du pape. ' Cod. Theod. viii. 5. 15 (au vicaire d'Afrique, 363) et vi. 29. 2 (357, au prefet •du pretoire d'ltalie). 13. Les Canons de Sardique: Babut 351 supplique a agi contre les canons ; il faut s'abstenir de communier avec lui, ou, s'il a peche par ignorance, I'avertir et le presser de rentrer dans la legalite. Mais voila aussi qui ne s'accorde pas avec le canon x». Comment se fait-il que les eveques de la grande route aient a excom- munier I'^veque voyageur, alors que I'eveque de Rome le recevra, et examinera si sa requete est 'honnete et juste'? Car on ne pent croire, a lire le canon x*, que I'eveque de Rome ait a exclure lui aussi le voyageur de sa communion. La requete d'un excommunie ne pourrait pas etre honnSte et juste. Prenons le cas d'un eveque d'Afrique ou de I'ltalie meridionale dont la viUe se trouve sur une route quaUfide canalis. Comment se fait-il que pendant la periode transitoire prevue par le canon xn, voyant passer im collegue qui se rend ad comitatum, il ait a I'arreter au passage ? D'apres le canon x", I'eveque voyageur aurait le droit de poursuivre en personne sa route jusqu'a Rome. Ainsi, dans la legislation tres coherente definie par les canons vni, ix, x^*, xi et xn, le canon x* forme disparate ; il contredit chacun des cinq articles (ou plutot des quatre, x^ n'etant qu'un complement de ix) au milieu desquels il se trouve place. Le canon x^ parait dater d'un temps oil I'iaterdiction, prononcee a Sardique, des voyages d'eveques ad comita- tum, etait tombee en desuetude, ou il etait ordinaire et tolere qu'un eveque se rendit en personne a la cour. Tel etait I'etat des choses au debut du v^ siecle.^ Qu'on me permette encore trois remarques avant de conclure, ou du morns de clore cette note. La premiere sera que notre texte latia des Canons de Sardique, dans beaucoup de manuscrits, porte la marque de son origine romaine, soit dans la liaison etroite des canons avec les Canons de Nicee (meme titre, numerotation continue), soit dans la mention expresse : tran- scripti in urbe Roma de exemplaribtis sancti Innocenti episcopi. La seconde est que I'attestation la plus ancienne des canons remains de Sardique se rencontre, d'apres M. Funk, dans une decretale de 404, et, d'apres M. Friedrich, dans une decretale de 416. Les deux passages aUegues sont a revoir de pres ; ils s'expHqueraient peut-etre aussi bien par une allusion au Can. vi de Nicee sous sa forme romaine : Ecdesia Romana semper habuit prim/itus. La premiere citation expUcite se trouve dans le Commanitoire du pape Zosime a ses legats partant poiu* I'Atrique, piece qui se date de I'an 418. Ma troisieme remarque est que les canons romains ne contiennent aucun nom d'eveque qui ne figure par ailleurs dans les canons de Sardique. L'argument tire, contre I'liypothese d'une falsification totale, des noms authentiques de Peres de Sardique, ne pent done •etre invoque contre rhypothese d'une falsification partielle. * Cod. Eccl. Ajr. cvi, texte du Concile africain de 407. 352 VIII. The Christian Religion Ces constatations sont forcement tres incompletes, I'espace m'ayant ete, suivant la r^gle necessaire des Congres, mesure etroitement. H m'a faUu laisser de cote des elements importants de la question i le silence ou le temoignage negatif de tant d'auteurs ecclesiastiques et des papes de la fin du iv^ siecle ; les recherches qui furent faites a Carthage, Alexandrie et Constantinople en 418-426 au sujet du canon vn, et qui aboutirent a ce resultat : nulla invenimus 'pairum synodo constitutum ^ les anachronismes que f erait apparaitre une etude attentive de la serie des canons romains ; la forme incorrecte de ces canons. II aurait ete beaucoup trop long, aussi, de parler des circonstances exceptionnelles et meme critiques qui pourraient seules faire apparaitre la falsification comme explicable et vraisemblable. Une note sommaire comme ceUe-ci, sur une question si difficile, ne peut se terminer que par une conclusion provisoire et hypothetique. H me semble que si un texte quelconque, que personne n'eut avantage a sauver, se presentait dans les memes conditions que nos canons romains, avec ces temoignages negatifs terribles, aveo une attestation positive qui vient si tard ; s'il offrait en outre, relative* ment a son contexte, ces apparences externes d'interpolation et ces contradictions internes, le texte serait classe comme suspect, et une enquete complete sur son origine serait jugee necessaire. 14 In a paper entitled The Origins of the Eucharist, Dk. Eislee sought- to reconcile the fact that, although the Eucharist was primarily a vegetable sacrifice intended to supersede the animal sacrifice of scriptural Judaism, there yet occurred in the Eucharistic tradition constant allusions to (1) the fish and (2) the lamb. 1. The miracle of the loaves and fishes, the incident on the shore of Lake Tiberias (John xxi), &c., were explained on the ground that Christ found at Bethsaida (Shrine of Fishing) a local pagan cult of the widely-spread fish-god, availed himself of it, and spiritualized it by means of an etymological coincidence between lehem bread, luhm fish, and luhm breath or spirit. 2. The reference in Markxiv. 12-16, to the preparing of the Passover, was analysed and an effort made to prove that Christ ate the lamb in the form of an iconic cake after the manner of the Essenes. 15. L'Origine du Christianisme : Camerlynck 353 15 ExTBAiT de I'Etude de M. H. Camerlynck sur VOrigine du Christia- nisme. — Les Orientalistes qui ont pris connaissance du Bouddhisme et de la vie de Qakia-mouny ont ete f rappe d'etonnement en constatant que I'un et I'autre presentent de nombreuses similitudes avec le Christianisme et le Christ. Ces similitudes n'ont pu se produire que par penetration de I'une de ces religions dans I'autre, si meme il n'y a pas eu r^ciprocite entre elles sous ce rapport. II est certain qu'un grand nombre de caravanes circulaient alors entre la Palestine et les Indes, et que les couvents bouddhiques avaient penetre dans I'Asie Mineure. II ne serait meme pas etonnant que le Christianisme, inspire d'abord de la morale bouddhique, ait plus tard absorbe le Bouddhisme dans une certaine mesure. Une revue anglaise imprimee a Lahore {Review of Religions, 1903) a pretendu que Jesus n'est pas mort sur la croix, mais, en ayant ete descendu vivant et evanoui, a repris ses sens, s'est enfui vers I'Orient, et y a vecu jusqu'a un age fort avance. Ses restes mortels auraient ete deposes dans un tombeau situe au Khanhyar, a Srinagar (Cache- mire). La tradition porte que I'occupant etait un etranger venu, il y a 1900 ans environ, du pays lointain de Syrie, et etait connu comme prophete israeUte que ses compatriotes avaient voulu tuer, d'ou sa fuite dans I'lnde. Quoi qu'U en soit de la revue, il convient en matiere historique de se mefier de 1' imagination souvent trop fertile des revuistes, et de rester ici dans I'expectation, dans la crainte d'une mystification qui ne serait pas la premiere de ce genre, bien que la version anglaise presente un ensemble de faits qui s'expliquent et se completent, ont enfin toute I'apparence de la verite. Esperons que nous n'aurons plus trop longtemps a attendee une solution susceptible de nous faire entrer dans une nouvelle voie de progres moral. A. a 354 VIII. The Christian Religion 16 REMARQUES SUR LE TYPE SECTAIRE DANS L'HERESIOLOGIE MEDIEVALE LATINE Par p. ALPHANDfiRY. (Resume) II est aise de voir que I'appellation de secte — du moins dans le do- maine de I'histoire religieuse du monde latin — est appliquee d'une fagon presque constamment arbitraire. Les quelques observations qui suivent n'ont d'autre objet que d'en proposer un emploi plus precis et aussi plus restreint. Seda, au moyen age, signifie opinion, theorique ou pratique, qui est acceptee et mise pratiquement en action par un groupe. Les langues modernes designentsous le nom de secte le groupe et non plus I'opinion, mais c'est la tout leur effort de precision : ce qu'est specifiquement ce groupe, U reste a le definir — et d'abord on pent proceder par elimination. 1 Toute secte n'est pas I'ecole d'un homme, la projection de son modus Vivendi ou de son modus credendi, bien qu'a premier examen 11 semble que la secte doive tout a la personnalite doctrinale ou morale de son fondateur. Saint Bernard s'6tonnait que le Catharisme n'eut pas de chef reconnu, pas meme d'eponyme, lorsque le Manicbeisme, disait-U, avait Manes, le SabeUianisme SabeUius, I'Arianisme Arius. L'histoire populaire ou a demi savante personnifie immanquablement une doctrine dans un homme. Pourtant ce n'est jamais I'acte reUgieux defini d'un heresiarque qui cree la secte. L'element tragique, la legende des chefs de sectes, est tres pauvre. Le groupe messianique parait avoir generalement depasse le messie dans les consequences pratiques de sa doctrine. II y a meme de frequentes sectes messia- niques ou le messie est mort, suppose ou omis. 2 On considere avec moins de raison encore toute secte comme necessairement douee d'une force d'expansion indefinie, comme I'embryon d'une eglise universaliste. Cette erreur est d'autant plus tenace que I'on a donne le nom de secte a de veritables religions uni- versaUstes comme le Catharisme, uniquement parce que I'avortement de leur proselytisme les a historiquement restreintes. 3 Pas plus qu'avec une religion avortee la secte ne doit etre con- fondue avec une devotion, une pratique asc^tique nouveUe : par exemple, celle des Flagellants. Cette confusion a vrai dire s'expUquerait mieux que les precedentes. Les groupes de ce type pr^sentent des caracteres qui les distinguent a la fois de I'ecole d'un homme et 16. Sectes dam le Monde latim Alphand^ry 355 d'une religion universaliste. Ces groupes sont gen6ralement acephales ; les chefs des Flagellants ne sont que des moniteurs dans une armee d'ascetes. La rigueur de la penitence 6tablit en fait une selection : les Flagellants sont victimes expiatoires, hosties, forment un groupe elu au milieu de la masse innombrable des pdcheurs. Mais il ne faut pas oublier que cette selection n'est pas partie integrante de la doctrine et qu'en principe le nombre des penitents reste iUimite. 4 Nous refuserons resolument le nom de secte a un parti reformiste dans I'Eglise. II y a dans toute reforme un principe d'universalisme et non de selection. Les mouvements vaudois, hussites, etc., partent toujours d'un esprit de simplification reHgieuse et d'antirituaUsme marque. Us ne laissent meme pas subsister a I'iriterieur de la religion qu'ils veulent reformer cette hierarchie mystique, ces degres initia- tiques qui constituent un clerge ferme, une sorte de secte dans la religion. On le voit, nous contestons la qualite de secte a tout agregat religieux qui ne comporte pas dans sa doctrine un principe de limitation du groupe. Mais cet element doctrinal serait insuffisant a earacteriser la secte si, pour preciser et situer ce type dans la morphologic reUgieuse, nous ne pouvions discemer quelques traits specifiques dans ses organes meme, dans ses formes ritueUes et dans la pratique de sa morale. Les sectes medievales sont tres inegalement hierarchisees. Quelques- unes ont adopte les degres gnostiques, mais rudimentairement repro- duits. A cela doit se rattaeher le type des noms symboHques imposes aux sectaires ou tout au moins aux membres d'une eUte dans la secte (chez Eon de I'EtoUe, chez certains h6retiques de Troyes au xm^ siecle etc.). Mais ce symboUsme parait n'avoir jamais fait partie de I'ar- mature doctrinale de la secte, n'avoir jamais correspondu k une organisation initiatique. D'aiUeurs cette organisation initiatique pre- supposerait I'existence d'un mythe fondamental. Or I'indigence mythique des sectes medievales est un phenomene caracteristique : meme leur eschatologie est aussi decharnee que possible, et le drame du monde est con9U par elles sous sa forme la plus pauvre en develop- pements apocalyptiques. Le Catharisme a seul un fonds mythique de quelque interet, et encore n'est-il que faiblement original, les emprunts orientaux, d'aiUeurs incompletement elabores, y etant evidents. De meme le rite est, dans I'heterodoxie medievale latine, mediocrement caracteristique : a notre connaissance ce n'est que chez les Orthebiens, dans les Trinites, qu'une valeur num^rique ritueUe est attribuee k I'individu. De ce qui precede il nous parait ressortir que la secte, en se consti- tuant, ne tend qu'a donner le maximum de vie religieuse au groupe. D'ou les remarques suivantes, dont nous ferions volontiers un cri- terium : A a 2 356 nil. The Christian Religion 1 Les sectes ne peuvent etre favorables a I'individualisme mys- tique ; c'est une cause d'insucces pour une secte que la predominance de I'element contemplatif. Les Joachimites purement contemplatifs n'ont jamais forme une secte, sont restes des isoles; mais d'autre part les sectes denuees de tout element mystique (Cathares, Vaudois) sont des religions universalistes avortees ou des reformes. II existe done, k n'en pas douter, un mysticisme sectaire qui est (a) machinal, c'est- Jl-dire independant du genie religieux de tel ou tel individu. II se manifeste par des extases collectives presque regulieres, presque trans- formees en actes rituds (Amauriciens), des phenomenes de glossolalie (Heretiques de Dormans au debut du xn^ siecle), et s'obtient par des moyens artificiels ; (6) collectivise : les extases sont publiques, pro- fitent a I'edification de toute la communaute ; eUes sont devolues h, certains sectaires qui, par une sorte de delegation, mettent ainsi le groupe en rapport avec la divinite. De plus, I'element pratique du mysticisme y predomine : I'extase se resout en prophetisme, ce qui est son utilisation collective; de meme la soUdarite spiritueUe est tellement forte chez les sectaires que le pantheisme se change souvent chez eux en une simple forme d'union psychique (par exemple, chez les Amauriciens d'apres le Contra Amaurianos). II ne s'agit plus ici seulement d'une parentela animarum entre fideles comme chez les Cathares et, a tout prendre, chez les cathohques ; il s'agit d'une communion absolue, tous les croyants etant membres du Christ. 2 Le second caractere auquel nous proposons de reconnaitre le groupement specifiquement sectaire, c'est son organisation — empirique ou non — sur un plan eschatologique ; en un mot nous ne voulons considerer comme secte authentique — distincte a la fois des eghses universaUstes avortees, des partis reformistes nes au sein du catholi- cisme, des rudiments de creations monastiques, des innovations asce- tiques — que le groupe que nous avons deja maintes fois designe sous le nom de groupe de type montaniste, c'est-a-drre celui ou se discement la plupart des Elements suivants : (a) Protestation rigoriste contre le relachement de I'EgUse existante (caractere exteme ; nous ne nous occupons ici que des caracteres internes, nous le negligerons done) ; (6) prophetisme exerce par un ou plusieurs inspires ; (c) attente du regne terrestre de Jesus, ou de la Troisieme Personne ; (d) constitution d'un groupe d'elus appeles a participer aux felicites millenaires. Nous distinguons dans le groupe de ce type les traits suivants qui paraissent bien se combiner en un type secte d^fini, tres distinct des autres modes de groupements religieux : (a) Le mysticisme devient manifestation de groupe : d'abord parce qu'il prend a pen pres une forme rituelle et d'autre part se socialise par le prophetisme, et aussi parce que les mystiques ont leur place dans le drame eschatologique. Les contemplatifs deviennent les viri 16. Sectes dans le Monde latin: Alphand^ry 357 s'pirituales du troisi^me age (Amauriciens, Joachimites, Panth^isme allemand du xiv^ siecle, etc.) et leur individualisme s'att^nue ausai manifestement, du fait qu'ils remplissent une fonction pr^fix^e, sont soumis au determinisme apocalyptique. (6) Nous cherchons dans la secte le caractere collectif . Or il semble paradoxal, mais il n'est qu'exact cependant de dire que, dans un groupe messianique, la personnalite du messie est aussi peu dominante que possible. Le tjrpe messianique est en effet depuis longtemps fix6, immuable ; les traits individuels de chaque messie sont extremement f aibles. Dolcino ressemble h, Tanchelem, qui ressemble au bucheron de Bourges (Gr6g. de Tours) ; les calomnies faciles ou les traits symboliques pris a la lettre par les pol6mistes orthodoxes pourraient seuls constituer aux messies un semblant de physionomie individuelle. De plus, le messie, J^sus ou Troisieme Personne, est souvent prophete, c'est-i-dire instrument, interprete; et le prophete s'efEace devant sa prophetic. Souvent meme U. disparait presque completement, la secte ne le prend que comma prete-nom, comme porte-enseigne (par example, SagaraUi) ; parfois aussi c'est 'post mortem qu'U. davient messia par la grace de ses disciples (Pierre- Jean OUvi, GugUelma, etc.). (c) La secte n'ast constituee que par un groupe d'elus. II n'y a pas, comma dans les religions universaUstas avort^es, de cathari et de credentes, de clerge et de fidUes. II n'y a qua das eliis, elus que Ton paut aussi considerer comme das hosties, car ils sont souvant astreints a un certain nombre d'obligations ascetiques. D'aUleurs la morale est aussi commandea par le plan eschatologique ; il n'y a qu'une morale, c'est la morale des elus : tout ce qui n'ast pas ca groupe rastreint, ethiquement ne compte pas. Done isolement absolu, et que les controversistes orthodoxes ont vu et cherche k s'expliquer : cette constitution d'un moralisme surhumain da groupe leur a samble ne pouvoir donner naissance qu'a un amoralisme foncier. (d) L'attente du regne terrestra de Jesus, at aussi da toutes les phases apocalyptiques qui le precederont ou la suivront, retranche de la vie morale de la secte touta idee de fortuit, de pr6caire. Or, cette idea est assentiellement medievale, et cette conscience eschatolo- gique de la continuite des evenements, de leur anchainemant presque mathematique, d'avenir sans imprevu, doit isoler la secte au milieu de la civilisation de son tamps. Elle doit aussi lui donner une unit6, una organisation morale fixe. La vie historique et spirituella du groupe sa trouve ainsi tout antiere reglee par le drama des demiers temps. 358 VIII. The Christian Religion 17 Under the common title of Sacred Shrines of Catholic Art, Professor YbiO Hirn endeavoured to bring together some of the most important objects of Roman CathoUo worship. In the first instance he spoke of the altar as a tomb or a shrine, containing the bones of some martyrs or saints. Then he enlarged upon the symbohc and magical ideas con- nected with reliquaries. From these shrines he passed on to the tabernacles and ciboria, containing the Holy of HoHes. And then he connected the receptacles of the Eucharistic Divinity with the human shrine, in which the incarnated God had His dwelhng before He was born as man. The relation between the symboUsm of the Mass and the symbohsm of Mariolatry was pointed out, with examples drawn from the writings of the Early Fathers. The paper summarized the results at which the author has arrived in a work, shortly to be pub- lished, on the general aesthetics of Roman Catholic art. 18 THE USE OF SACRED NAMES By F. C. CONYBEARE. (Abstract) The survival of such a phrase as ' a name to conjure with ' shows that we have not long emerged from a phase of culture in which a man's name was regarded as mysteriously bound up with his personality, in such wise that, if he be himself gifted with powers beyond the ordinary, his name is the vehicle of similar power. We may even go further, and say that, in ancient religions, as in many folk-tales, a man's name was equivalent to his personality ; and this behef so moulded language that we find authors writing of there being so many names in a city, where to-day we would say so many souls or persons. Thus, in Revelation xi. 13, we read that ' in that hour there was a great earthquake, and the tenth part of the city fell ; and there were killed in the earthquake names of men seven thousand ' — that is, seven thousand souls. And in the same book, in the letter to the Church of Sardis, it is said : ' Thou hast a few names in Sardis which did not defile their garments.' The sanctity or virtue of an individual belongs, in a measure, to his garments, his hair, nail-parings, even to his spittle, and, after death, as the cult of rehcs well illustrates, to his bones. It equally adheres to his name, which, if it cannot be touched and handled, can 18. Use of Sacred Names : Conybeare 359 be invoked or uttered in speech. A thousand ritual observances have their root in this belief. Thus, one great bugbear of primitive peoples is the fear of being molested by the dead ; and, accordingly, the name of a dead person must not be breathed out loud, lest his wraith be evoked together with his name. Among some races the name of a dead chieftain, which is often the name of an animal or plant, is tabooed, and a fresh name has to be invented for the natural object after which he was called. From this cause the vocabularies of such races are in perpetual flux. Again, since a man's name is tantamount to his vital principle and personality, it must be concealed from his enemies no less than his picture and image. It is believed that to know another's name is to have power over him. This is why every ancient Egyptian had two names — one by which his fellows in this world knew him, and the other, his true or great name, by which he was known to the supernal powers and in the other world. An Abyssinian Christian similarly has two names given him at baptism — one his common name, the other a secret name never to be divulged. The guardian deity or patron saint of ancient Rome had a secret name not communicated to any one ; for he who learned it might harm the eternal city by tempting the deity in question to desert it, just as the Romans, by the right of evocation, had won over to themselves the gods of many a conquered city. In parts of ancient Greece the holy names of the gods, that none might learn them and be able to profane them, were engraved on lead tablets and sunk in the sea. The same belief underlies our phrase ' to take a name in vain ' ; and in more than one statute rash swearing is forbidden because it amounts to desecration of a holy name, and, with the name, of the personality named. In Oriental folk-lore — ^for example, in the Arabian Nights — ^he that would enhst a ginn or demon in his service must, above aU things, master the name thereof ; for, knowing it, he can use the spirit and its authority how he will. As in other ways, so in their assurance of the magic potency of names, the writers of the New Testament, including Paul, announce themselves true sons of their age. Paul, who conceived of Jesus as having been mysteriously promoted, through His resurrection, to a new and higher grade of spiritual existence than He occupied in the flesh, writes, Ephesians i. 20, 21, that the ' father of glory raised him from the dead, and made him to sit at his right hand in the heavenly region, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this age, but also in that which is to come'. Here the words 'rule and authority', &c., refer to the different grades of superhuman beings which tenant earth, air, and heaven ; all these are ' names that are named ' in this world and the next— 360 VIII. The Christian Religion that is, names fraught with magic potency, and so invoked in order to control other inferior powers and forces of nature. Names in themselves possess such potency in various degrees; and the divine Father, according to the Pauline theosophy, has them in His gift, to confer themonwhom He will. When He wished to reward Jesus after death for the trust and humility He displayed on earth, He raised Him from the dead and 'exalted him highly, and gave unto him the name that is above every name ; that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of beings in heaven and on earth and under the earth '. Similarly in the Egyptian legend the god Ra owned a secret name by which he controlled men and gods, and which was only known to himself. Isis said to herself : ' Cannot I, by virtue of the great name of Ra, make myself a goddess, and reign, Uke him, in heaven and earth ? ' And, by a stratagem, she forced Ra to transfer his magical name from his breast into hers, together with all its miraculous powers.^ An exact parallel is in Rev. xix. 11, 12, where he that 'sat on a white horse ', whose ' eyes were a flame of fire and on his head many diadems, had ', so we read, ' a name written which no one knew but himself.' That already, during His Galilean ministry, Jesus had won such fame as a faith-healer that His name was used by exorcists otherwise strangers to Him we also learn from Mark ix. 38: 'John said unto him, Teacher, we saw one casting out devils in thy name ; and we forbad him, because he followed us not.' Thus His name, even before He quitted Capernaum, had already become, as we say, ' a name to conjure with,' though His disciples considered that they had a monopoly of its use. Jesus, however, said : ' Forbid him not : for there is no man that shall do a mighty work in my name and be able Ughtly to speak evil of me.' The name, according to the gnostic Valentinus (see Clemens Alex. ed. Syllb., p. 793), had come down upon Jesus in the form of the dove at His Baptism. It was the name which, as fraught with the personal power of Jesus Christ, operated the cure narrated in Acts iii, though not without the pre-condition that the afflicted person had faith therein. On the morrow the priests hale Peter before them, 'And inquire. By what power, or in what name, have ye done this ? ' Peter answers that ' through the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth whom God raised from the dead doth this man stand here before you whole'. The name, that is to say, like the rehc of a later saint, has a virtue all of its own ; and Peter goes on to claim for this name a sort of monopoly of saving and life-giving power : ' Neither is there any other name under heaven, that is given among men, wherein we must be saved.' ' See Prazer's Oolden Bough, ch. ii, § ,3. 18. Use of Sacred Names: Conyheare 361 The Jews quarrelled among themselves and with the Christians about what names should be used in exorcisms ; and on one occasion (Acts xviii. 1 4, 15) , when in Achaia the Jews rose against Paul, and dragged him before the judgement-seat, GalUo, the pro-consul, an eminently sensible magistrate, drave them away, saying : ' If, indeed, it were a matter of wrong or of wicked villany, O ye Jews, it would be my duty to bear with you : but if they are questions about words and names and your own law, look to it yourselves.' In Christian rituals, from about the year 300 on, an altar, shrine, and any sort of building, and also ' the natures ' of oU, water, salt, candles, even of hassocks, have been consecrated by repeating over them the formula ' in the name of Jesus Christ ', or 'in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost'. Through such invocation any satanic taint there was, is expelled, and a transcendental virtue, authority, or mana, as the Melanesian native calls it, inherent in the name passes over like an emanation into them. Similarly, the recitation at the beginning or end of a prayer of the words in (or through) the name, &c., sets in operation, in the transcendental sphere to which the prayer is supposed to ascend, the personaUty or spirit named. There thus survived in the Christian Church forms of prayer and exorcism derived, through Judaism, from the older rehgions of the Assyrians, Egyptians, and Persians. These forms doubtless were charged with another and weightier meaning in so far as Jesus in His life and character was other than the more or less legendary gods and heroes invoked in those rehgions. Yet it remains true that in thus hypostatizing names the earhest Christians were on the same plane of rehgions development as the rest of the ancient world. SECTION IX METHOD AND SCOPE OF THE HISTOKY OF RELIGIONS LES SCIENCES AUXILIAIRES DE L'HISTOIRE COMPAREE DES RELIGIONS. PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS By Count GOBLET D'ALVIELLA Le Comite d'organisation a bien voulu me demander d'ouvrir nos travaux par quelques remarques sur I'etat actuel des etudes qui ressortent specialement de cette section. Un point dont nous devons nous assurer en premier lieu, c'est si nous sommes d'accord sur la nature et les limites de notre domaine. L'histoire des Religions n'est qu'une branche de la Science des Religions. Celle-ci comprend tout d'abord deux grandes subdivisions que je vous demanderai la permission d'appeler respectivement Yhierographie et YhUrologie, en appliquant ici une distinction analogue a celle qui differencie Tethnographie de Tethnologie, ou, en ternies plus generaux, la description de la synthese. L'hierographie a pour objet de decrire toutes les religions connues et d'en retracer le developpement respectif. L'hierologie cherche a etablir les rapports de concomitance et de succession entre les phenom^nes religieux, en d'autres termes, a formuler les lois de revolution religieuse. Cette synthese est plus frequemment appelee histoire comparative des Religions, ou, plus simplement, Religion comparee. Je n'y ai pas d'objection, pour ma part, d'autant que cette expression a Tavantage de mettre en evidence la methode essentielle dont fait usage I'hierologie : la methode comparative, ou Ton supplee a Tinsuffisance des renseignements sur l'histoire continue d'une croyance ou d'une institution, dans une race ou une societe, par des faits empruntes a d'autres milieux ou a d'autres temps. Cepen- dant, il doit etre entendu que la comparaison n'est pas tout et que, si nous comparons, ce n'est pas seulement pour constater en quoi les religions se ressemblent et se separent, mais encore et surtout pour tirer de ces rapprochements I'explication a la fois de leurs divergences et de leurs similitudes. 366 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions Dira-t-on que c'est la, en realite, de la philosophic, de YhUrosophw ? Je crois pouvoir reserver cette appellation aux tentatives pour formuler les consequences logiques qu'entraine, dans le domaine religieux, la conception raisonnee de nos rapports avec Dieu et rUnivers. Ainsi comprise, Thierosophie constitue une troisieme branche de la Science des Religions. EUe renferme en effet un element subjectif, dont elle ne peut faire abstraction, tandis que I'hierologie, ou, comme Ta appelee M. Chantepie de la Saussaye, la phenomenologie religieuse, doit conserver le caractere objectif des sciences qui s'inspirent exclusivement des faits ; on ne lui demande pas ce qu'il est raisonnable de croire, mais comment les hommes en sont venus a croire et a pratiquer certaines choses. C'est de la 'religion comparee' que je voudrais specialement m'occuper ici, parce que les questions concernant les differentes branches de I'hierographie seront traitees, et avec plus de com- petence, dans les sections qui leur sont specialement consacrees. L'hierologie presuppose I'hierographie, mais embrasse une sphere plus large ; d'abord parce qu'elle remonte au dela de I'histoire pour rechercher les commencements des croyances et des institutions qui apparaissent deja toutes formees au debut des temps historiques ; ensuite parce qu'elle complete la methode historique avec les methodes deductives et comparatives en usage dans les diverses subdivisions de I'anthropologie, notamment dans la psychologie, I'ethnographie, le prehistorique, le folklore, la philologie et la sociologie. Toutes ces sciences envisagent les phenomenes religieux au point de vue de I'objet particulier qu'elles poursuivent respectivement ; mais, par cela meme, elles fournissent des materiaux a l'hierologie, dont elles guident, controlent et, au besoin, corrigent les conclusions, lors- que celle-ci s'aventure sur un terrain de leur competence. Je voudrais esquisser, ici, les services qu'elles ont rendus de nos jours aux tentatives pour reconstituer le developpement religieux de I'humanite et meme pour e'claircir la question des origines de la religion ; quitte a examiner, en meme temps, s'il n'y a pas lieu de rappeler a leur fonction de ' sciences auxiliaires ' celles d'entre elles qui pr^tendraient resoudre seules tous les problemes religieux, en faisant de l'hierologie une simple province de leur empire. I. De VEthnographie. L'ethnographie nous renseigne sur I'etat moral et social des populations non-civilisees ; par suite, nous fait connaitre les rites et les croyances des peuples qui n'ont jamais eu d'histoire. 1. President's Address : Goblet d^Alviella 367 Les populations non-civilis&s du globe se partagent en un certain nombre de groupes ethniques dont il convient d'etudier successive- ment les manifestations religieuses. On ne pent mieux faire, ^ cet egard, que d'adopter la classification proposfe par Albert R^ville dans son ouvrage sur les religions des non-civilis^s. I, Les Noirs cPAfrique: (a) Negres, (b) Cafres, (c) Hcbtentots, (d) Bosshimans. II. Les autochthones des Deux Ameriques: (a) Esquimaux, (b) Peaux- Rouges, (c) Caraibes, (d) Tribus bresiliennes, (e) Gaycourous et Abipones, (f) Charruas et Puelches, (g) Patagons, (h) Fuegiens, (i) Araucans. III. Les Oceaniens : (a) Polynesiens, (b) Melanesiens, (c) Micronesiens, (d) Australiens, (e) Tasmaniens, (f) Dayaks et Andamans, (g) Mad&asses. IV. Les Finno-Tartares : (a) Siberiens, (b) Lapons et Finnois. — Peut-etre conviendrait-il d'aj outer deux subdivisions, comprenant Tune les sauvages de I'lnde et de I'lndo- Chine, Tautre les Ainos du Japon. On a mis en question la valeur et meme la veracite des temoignages fournis par Tethnographie. Certains voyageurs semblent n'avoir cherche dans leurs observations que la confirmation d'idees precon9ues. De plus, meme avec une parfaite bonne foi, il n'est pas facile de se faire comprendre des sauvages, encore moins de s'assimiler leur fa^on de penser et de sentir. Eux-memes ne sont pas toujours enclins a rdpondre. lis aiment parfois k mystifier leur interrogateur. Ou bien lis lui cacheront leurs secrets religieux et magiques, aussi bien que leurs procedes industriels — par crainte qu'il n'en abuse, pour leur enlever Paide des esprits. Ou encore ils prefereront inventer une reponse, plutot que de faire un effort de reflexion et de memoire. Enfin il suffit d'un contact anterieur, meme passager, avec des representants d'une culture plus avancee, pour introduire des elements nouveaux dans les croyances et meme les sentiments des primitifs. Ces causes d'erreur sont considerables, mais ce n'est pas une raison pour contester, comme I'a fait Max Muller dans sa polemique avec Andrew Lang, I'abondance et la solidity des materiaux que Pethno- graphie contemporaine est en droit d'utiliser. II n'y a plus aujourd'hui, parmi les non-civilises, un groupe tant soit peu notable dont la langue n'ait ete apprise et etudiee par des explorateurs, savants, missionnaires, administrateurs, trafiquants. En tout cas, la ou I'interpretation des termes reste douteuse, il y a les rites qui sont faciles a observer. Or les rites sont les croyances en action, quand ils n'en sont pas la source, et ils constituent souvent chez les sauvages la partie la plus importante de la religion. Partout ou les observateurs sont d'accord sur un fait, il y a une forte presomption en faveur de sa realite. A plus forte raison, I'accord 368 IX. Method and Scope oj the History of Religions est-il decisif, quand il porte sur des phenomenes g^neraux, identiques, chez des peuplades fort distantes, et relevfe, souvent a des epoques difFerentes, par les observateurs les plus divers. Au XVIII* siecle, on ne s'occupait des sauvages que pour les idealiser ; ensuite, par reaction, on en vint a les abaisser outre inesure, comme indignes d'occuper I'attention du savant. En realite, ils sent dans I'ethnographie ce que sont en g^ologie, pour I'histoire de la terre, les temoms des couches erosees, qui se maintiennent au milieu de depots plus recents. lis manifestent, avec plus d'evidence et de generality les lois psychologiques dont Taction, aux degres superieurs du developpement religieux, est souvent masquee par la complexite des phenomenes. M. Roscoif les a ingenieusement compares aux crypto- games, dont Tetude etait autrefois dedaignee et ou se revele cependant, dans toute sa simplicite, la formation des cellules qui seule pent nous faire comprendre la structure et les fonctions des vegetaux superieurs. Cependant il ne faut pas aller trop loin dans cette voie et pretendre tout expliquer en religion par les phenomenes de la vie sauvage. Si I'etude de I'embryon est necessaire pour rendre compte de ses attributs ulterieurs et de ses phases successives, elle ne suffit pas a expliquer les details et les fonctions d'un organisme dans les degrds superieurs de son developpement. II s'est certainement introduit chez les peuples de culture avancee — et pas seulement dans leur religion — des dements nouveaux, ou, si I'on prefere cette expression, des combinaisons d'elements anterieurs suffisamment complexes pour acquerir une valeur nouvelle. Ce n'est qu'ainsi qu'on peut rationnellement s'expliquer le progres. On ne doit pas non plus perdre de vue qu'a cote des ressemblances il y a des divergences nombreuses. Quand on veut conclure de la generalite d'une conception religieuse a son universalite anterieure, il convient de s'assurer d'abord si cette generalite est bien reelle ; ensuite, si elle n'a pu se produire par voie d'emprunt ou meme par raisonnement spontane, au cours des innorabrables siecles qui se sont ecoules depuis Tapparition de I'homme. C'est dans le champ de Tethnographie que se sont livrees et que se livrent encore les principales batailles dont I'enjeu est la solution du probleme des origines religieuses. Je ne puis que mentionner ici, dans les derniers temps, les grandes controverses qui nous ont valu des travaux si suggestifs de MM. Tylor, Robertson Smith, Albert Reville, Tiele, Jevons, Frazer, Andrew Lang, Sidney Hartland, Salomon Reinach, etc., sur I'importance et la generalite du tote- misme ; sur la priorite entre la religion et la magie, entre Tanthropo- morphisme et le tabouisme ; enfin sur Texistence pretendue d'une 1. President'' s Address : Goblet d'Alviella 369 croyance primitive a un grand Dieu Createur et Justicier, Je m'empresse d'ajouter que ces controverses, si vives qu'elles soient, ne peuvent plus porter atteinte ni a Temploi de la methode ethno- graphique par I'hierologie, ni k la valeur des renseignements que celle-ci en tire, ni meme aux conclusions qu'elle en deduit dans la solution des problemes accessibles a Tobservation. II. Du Folk-lore. Le Folk-lore, * savoir populaire,' ou Traditionalisme, est I'ensemble des croyances et des usages que le peuple se transmet de generation en generation sans intervention des esprits cultives. Les etudes qui s'y rattachent ont ete souvent viciees par un melange de preoccupa- tions litteraires ou de deductions personnelles au narrateur. Ce- pendant, depuis qu'on a compris que les documents valaient seulement dans la mesure de la sincerite de celui qui les livre et de I'exactitude de celui qui les rapporte, il a pris I'allure d'une veritable branche scientifique qui a sa sphere propre, sa classification et sa methode. II en est resulte toute une litterature, dont I'abondance n'est pas le moindre inconvenient, quand il s'agit de grouper les recherches pour en tirer des conclusions sur les origines et sur les variations d'une tradition determinee. Le Folk-lore rend a I'histoire des Religions les services suivants : 1° II foumit des elements de comparaison entre les traditions religieuses des differentes races. 2° II aide a retrouver les vestiges des religions officiellement dis- parues. S° II permet de reconstituer des phases de revolution religieuse qui ont precede toute histoire. Ainsi nombre de nos traditions populaires nous ramenent aux religions qui ont precede le christianisme chez nos ancetres. C'est meme la reconstitution des paganismes celte et germain, qui ont siu:- tout profite de Textension donnee aux travaux de folk-lore depuis les recherches des freres Grimm, plus recemment de MM. Gaidoz, d'Arbois de Jubainville, J. Rhys, pour la religion celtique ; de MM. Simrock, E. H. Meyer, Bugge et tant d'autres pour la mythologie ger- manique; sans oublier les etudes de M. Leger sur la mythologie slave. Ces recherches ont egalement aide a nous faire connaitre, dans une certaine mesure, le fond commun de ce qu'on appelait autrefois, par voie d'abstraction, la religion indo-europeenne. Enfin un certain nombre de legendes et de rites, qui doivent remonter plus haut encore, ont et^ ramenes aux phases rudimentaires de revolution religieuse, qui constituent encore tout le culte de certains sauvages. O.K. II B b 370 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions En general, quand des traditions sont en desaccord avec la culture intellectuelle ou morale du milieu ou on les observe, il est vrai- semblable qu'eUes constituent des survivances, c''est-a-dire qu'elles remontent a une ^poque ou elles n'^taient pas confinees dans les couches incultes et ou elles etaient acceptees par Tensemble de la societe. Si toutefois Fetat psychologique, dont elles sont le corollaire, existe encore dans une partie de la nation, il y a lieu de considerer qu'elles peuvent etre egalement de formation ou d'importation recente. D'un autre cote, la ou il est impossible de constater histori- quement la presence de cet etat psychologique dans le passe, on n'en est pas moins autorise de conclure a son existence anterieure, si chez d'autres peuples, ou il predomine encore, il a engendre des croyances et des usages analogues. Cette these, deja formulee au xvm® siecle par Fontenelle et le president des Brosses, a ete surtout mise en lumiere par les travaux de Mannhardt, de Tylor et de McLennan. C'est d'elle que s'inspirent les recherches sensationnelles de Tecole folk- loriste la plus recente qui, du reste, s'appuie egalement sur les con- statations de Tethnographie. Cependant M. FarneU a recemment fait observer, a juste titre, qu'avant de suppleer aux lacunes de I'histoire chez un peuple par- ticulier a I'aide de renseignements puises un peu partout il convient d'abord de faire appel aux traditions en vigueur chez les ancetres ou les voisins immediats de ce peuple, comme lui-meme I'a fait avec tant de succes dans sa description des cultes des Etats Grecs. III. Du Prehistorique. L'archeologie prehistorique ne nous renseigne pas seulement sur Tetat industriel et social de I'epoque la plus ancienne ou I'homme a laisse des traces de son passage, mais elle nous fournit encore des vestiges materiels de certaines croyances et de certains rites. Les anthropologues sont d'accord sur les grandes subdivisions des temps prehistoriques, ainsi que sur la correspondance generale de ces subdivisions avec les classifications de la geologie et de la paleonto- logie : 1° la periode eolithique, qui commence dans les temps tertiaires pour se prolonger pendant la premiere partie des depots quaternaires, avec I'age de Yelephas antiquus; 2° la periode paleolithique ou de la pierre taillee, qui comprend le reste des temps quaternaires, Tage du mammouth ou Elephas primigenius, puis Tage du renne ; 3° la periode neolithique, qui ouvre les temps modernes dans I'histoire de la terre et qui coincide avec la constitution de la faune contemporaine ; enfin 4° la periode des metaux, qui debute avec I'apparition des in- 1. President's Address : Goblet dAlviella 371 struments en bronze ou en cuivre et qui se poursuit, avec le premier age du fer, jusqu'au commencement des teitips historiques. On n'a decouvert jusqu'ici aucune trace d'usages religieux anterieurs a I'age du mammouth, bien qu'on ne puisse tirer de cette lacune aucune preuve decisive contre I'existence anterieure de la religion et meme d'un culte. Comment, en effet, retrouver, par exemple, la trace d'un rite verbal ou d'une oblation de nourriture aux esprits ? Les gravures et les peintures d'animaux, decouverts dans certaines cavemes habitees a la fin de I'age du mammouth (grottes de la Dordogne, etc.), ne sont pas seulement les premieres manifestations de I'art, mais elles semblent encore attester, sinon la presence de la zoolatrie ou du tot^misme, du moins I'existence de la croyance a I'efficaeite magique de ces representations figm-ees, Le culte des morts apparait, vers la meme epoque, avec I'institution des repas funeraires aux abords de la tombe et la coutume de deposer, pres du defunt, des armes, des outils, des panares, des vases (Cavernes de la Belgique et du midi de la France). Parfois ces objets sont intentionnellement brises ou brides. On ne peut voir que des rites funeraires dans I'usage de teindre les ossements en rouge et de replier les squelettes sur eux-memes, de fa.9on que les genoux touchent le menton. Des I'age du renne, il semble qu'il existait des fetiches et meme des ebauches d'idoles. A I'epoque de la pierre polie, on releve, en outre, la trepanation des cranes, le culte de la hache, la construction des megalithes. Avec I'age du bronze se montrent les vestiges d'un cidte rendu a certains phenomenes de la nature. Mais ici nous arrivons au seuil de I'histoire. L'hierologie se reserve le droit d'interpreter ces usages, non seule- ment en utilisant I'acception qu'ils comportaient au debut des temps historiques, mais encore en tirant parti de I'explication qu'en donnent les sauvages des deux mondes, la on ceux-ci pratiquent des rites identiques ou emploient des objets analogues, dans un but soit magique, soit religieux. II convient de remarquer que si un age de la pierre semble bien avoir partout precede I'usage des metaux, cet age n'a pas pris fin simultanement dans toutes les parties du monde. Chez certains peuples, tels que les Esquimaux et les Neo-Zelandais, on I'a vu se prolonger jusqu'a nos jours, II est done impossible d'etablir le synchronisme des usages et des croyances revues par les produits de I'industrie prehistorique, sauf la ou ces produits sont associes avec les terrains ou avec les especes qui caracterisent une phase determinee dans I'histoire du globe. B b2 372 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions IV. De la Philologie. J'entends ici la philologie, non pas au sens large, qui en fait presque un synonyme de connaissance de Tantiquite, mais comme embrassant I'etude des langues et des litteratures chez les peuples les plus divers du present et du passe, en tant que cette etude pent nous eclairer sur I'histoire des mots et des idees qu'ils representent. La linguistique comparee, comme on Tappelle parfois, tend notamment a nous instruire sur Tetat moral et religieux des differentes families ethniques a I'epoque ou se sont formees leurs langues respectives, voire aux temps plus lointains ou se sont constitues les precedes du langage. D'autre part, eUe exerce a la fois une influence correctrice, en etablissant I'impossibilite des etymologies fantaisistes qui ont si souvent egare les mythologues, et une influence constructive, en nous revelant la veritable signification des noms originairement donnes aux person- nages surhumains. Le concours de la philologie est indispensable pour etablir le sens des epithetes qui, accolees au nom d'un dieu ou d'un heros, eclairent souvent sa nature et sa fonction ; parfois aussi pour nous apprendre, par Tinterpretation des noms theophores, quels sont les sentiments populaires a I'egard des dieux et comment etaient con^us les rapports des adorateurs avec leurs divinites. Elle conduit aussi a distinguer, dans les mythes, ce qui appartient au patrimoine commun de la race et ce que chaque branche y a spontanement ajoute ; elle permet de decouvrir les elements exotiques qui se sont introduits dans la mythologie d'un peuple et meme de determiner la provenapee de ces importations; enfin elle nous renseigne sur les cas ou le mythe parait sorti d'un oubli ou d'une confusion dans le sens d'un mot. Certains philologues, toutefois, vont plus loin dans leurs preten- tions, lorsqu'ils soutiennent, avec Max MuUer et Michel Breal, que non seulement les religions dependent de la langue, mais encore que leur source meme est dans une maladie du langage : L'homme, contraint originairement de recourir a des images pour exprimer sa pensee, aurait fini par prendre ses metaphores pour des realites. II est tres vrai que la linguistique compai'ee nous revele une disposition mentale de I'humanite primitive a personnifier toutes les forces de la nature. Mais c'est une exageration de supposer que la personnification et, par suite, la divinisation des agents naturels soit due a la necessite fatale d'employer des termes impliquant la vie et la pensee. Si le langage a mis partout ces attributs de I'espece humaine, c'est que l'homme se refusait a concevoir une cause d'activite qui ne fut taillee sur son propre type. 1. President's Address : Goblet dAlviella 373 II s'en fautj du reste, qu'on puisse ramener a une explication philologique I'ensemble des croyances et meme des mythes — a plus forte raison des rites qui ont souvent une origine independante de la croyance qu'ils semblent impliquer. Sans doute les noms divins ont tous comporte une signification quelconque k I'origine, mais ceux dent on pent retrouver le sens ferment Texception, parce que souvent ils se sont formes dans une periode prehistorique anterieure a la con- stitution des dialectes ou on les rencontre et meme de la langue-niere, De plus, meme quand la racine est connue, il faut constater que les philologues sont rarement d'accord sur son sens originaire. II ne suffit pas toujours de connaitre la signification primitivement attachee au nom d'un personnage pour etre aussitot fixe sur sa nature et sur son role. Enfin, d^ns aucun cas, la connaissance de cette signification ne donnera necessairement la clef de toutes les histoires auxquelles la tradition mele le porteur du nom. II faut tenii" compte que les mythes, comme les rites, tendent a s'alterer au cours de leur transmission et, en particulier, que Firaagination populaire met au compte de chaque heros mythique nombre d'aven- tures originairement attribuees a d'autres personnages. En resum^, le principal service que nous a rendu la philologie sur le terrain de Thistoire religieuse — et il suffirait pour lui assurer toute notre reconnaissance — c'est d'avoir, par ses recherches, rendu access sibles a la science des religions les textes religieux et les Ecritures sacrees de tous les peuples qui ont consigne leurs traditions dans des documents ecrits. V. De la Psychologie. Les sciences dont je me suis occupe jusqu'ici fournissent a I'hiero- logie surtout des materiaux. La psychologie et la sociologie Taident plutot a mettre ces materiaux en cEuvre. La psychologie est ici d'un emploi constant, car il n'est pas de phenomene religieux qui ne se ramene k une explication psychologique. N'est-ce pas I'intention qui seule imprime le caractere religieux a un mot, un objet, un acte ? Les rites, si mecaniques qu'on les suppose, sont rexpression d'une croyance presente ou oubliee, et les croyances elles-memes ont derriere elles un processus mental qu'il importe de reconstituer. Est-il besoin d'ajouter que j'envisage ici la psychologie dans son sens le plus large, comme coordonnant les resultats de I'observation externa avec ceux de Tintrospection ? Sans doute, rien n'interdit de recourir a la methode intuitive dont I'ecole hegelienne a quelque peu abuse. Mais si cette methode reste parfaitement legitime (sous 374 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions reserve de ne pas aller a Tencontre des faits) dans les problemes dont la solution echappe a I'observation directe, comme c'est le cas pour presque toutes les questions d'origine, elle joue un role subordonne dans les problemes oil I'explication psychologique doit sortir de la comparaison des phenomenes et non deriver d'un principe abstrait. Or, le champ de Tobservation externa tend de plus en plus a grandir en psychologic, qu'il s'agisse des individus ou des peuples. La Constance de certains phenomenes religieux permet de les rattacher a des lois psychologiques dont ils sont I'expression necessaire. Certaines de ces lois rendent compte des manifestations religieuses chez les individus. D'autres font ressortir le lien entre la direction du developpement religieux et les elements multiples dont I'ensemble constitue le caractere de la race. D'autres encore etablissent les rapports des rites et des croyances avec les modes de penser qui s''observent aux differentes etapes de la culture humaine. C'est a la psychologic, notamment, qu'il appartient de determiner, dans les manifestations religieuses, quelle est la part respective de I'influence ancestrale et des variations individuelles. Une ecole re- cente, surtout mise en lumiere par les beaux travaux de M, William James, et plus recemment de M. James B. Prat, a fait ressortir I'im- portance des suggestions emanees de la region obscure et liminale qui s'dtend, dans I'esprit humain, entre les reactions inconscientes de I'organisme physique et les manifestations de pleine conscience, idees ou images. Je suis loin de meconnaitre la valeur des explications avancees au nom de la new Psychology. Cependant je me demande si, dans leur desir d'insister sur le role de I'instinct, elles font une part sufBsante a I'intervention de la raison comme agent de direction et de controle dans I'orientation des manifestations religieuses. C'est egalement a la psychologie de decider frequemment si les phenomenes religieux, qui assument la meme forme dans differents milieux en dehors de toute probabilite d'emprunt, doivent etre attribues a des raisonnements identiques, dont le parallelisme s'explique par I'unit^ de I'esprit humain. II est a remarquer que la similitude des raisonnements est plus frequente encore que I'analogie des phenomenes par lesquels ils se manifestent; d'autre part, que des manifestations analogues dans la forme se rattachent parfois a des mobiles differents. Meme dans ce dernier cas, il convient de rechercher si les diverses explications qu'on en a recueillies ne procMent pas d'une conception identique, Ainsi, par exemple, Cafres et Peaux-Rouges font du feu sur les tombes: ceux-ci pour rechaufFer I'ombre du defunt, ceux-la pour I'empecher de revenir. N'est-ce pas la preuve que dans les deux cas on tient I'ame pour une substance semi- 1. President's Address : Goblet d'Alviella 375 materielle, susceptible de ressentir, comme le corps vivant, les effets du feu ? La physiologic constate que les individus reproduisent, dans les phases successives de leur developpement physique (ontogen&se), les etapes traversees par leur espece au cours de son evolution organique (phyllogenese) ; cette concordance s'observe egalement dans le de- veloppement intellectuel et moral. Les petits enfants repr&entent a certains ^gards I'homme primitif dans ses modes de penser et de sentir. La psychologic enfantine peut done foxu-nir des eclaircisse- ments sur certains traits religieux de I'enfance de Thumanite (par exemple : la tendance a etendre demesurement la sphere de la personniiication, a supprimer les distinctions d'especes, de genres, d'ordres, de regnes ; a introduire le merveilleux dans toutes les cir- eonstances de la vie). La psychologic des etres inferieurs a I'homme a-t-elle egalement quelques rapports avec la science des religions ? La question, qui eut fait sourire naguere, ne peut etre ecartee sommairement, aujourd'hui que la theorie de revolution a conduit a rechercher chez les animaux superieurs le germe des sentiments epanouis dans Thomme. Malgre les ingenieuses hypotheses de quelques observateiu-s, il n'y a aucune vraisemblance que I'animal possede la notion de survivance, ou qu'il ait cherche a entrer en relation consciente avec les forces de la nature. D'autre part existe-t-il une grande difference entre la fafon dont le sauvage traite son fetiche ou son animal sacre et la faxjon dont le chien regarde son maitre .'' L'un et I'autre se trouvent devant \m etre dont ils reconnaissent la superiorite, dont ils ne peuvent comprendre la natmre, envers qui ils eprouvent un sentiment mixte de crainte et d'affection, enfin avec lequel ils cherchent a nouer des relations pour leur propre bien. J'admets que ce ne soit pas de la religion. Mais e'en est peut-etre I'ant&edent. VI. De la Sociohgie. La sociologie est la science des lois qui regissent les phenomenes sociaux. La religion doit etre rangee parmi ces phenomenes, lors meme qu'on cherche sa source dans I'individu — d'abord parce qu'elle tend a grouper les hommes en societes distinctes, ensuite parce qu'elle agit sur les moeurs et meme siu: le gouvemement des nations. Les associations religieuses, communions ou Eglises, sont des organismes qui ont leur vie propre et qui se trouvent forcement en relation avec les autres groupements constitues au sein de la societe humaine en vue de buts particuliers. Au debut, tous les groupements 376 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions sont plus ou moins confondus ; c'est la meme societe qui fonctibnne religieusement, comme, a d'autres moments, elle fonctionne politi- quement, juridiquement et militairement. Peu a peu, il s'etablit une diflFerentiation organique, parfois meme un antagonisme apparent entre la societe civile et la societe religieuse. I^es relations entre le pouvoir spirituel et le pouvoir temporel, comme aussi les rapports entre la societe religieuse et ses membres, forment des problemes qui ont joue un role important dans Thistoire et qui troublent encore aujourd'hui le fonctionnement de la civilisation. Reciproquement, la religion a toujours subi Tinfluenee des institu- tions politiques, juridiques et sociales, aussi bien que des conditions geographiques et economiques des milieux respectifs ou elle s'est developpee. Cependant la religion, consideree objectivement, n'etablit pas seule- ment un lien reel entre les hommes, mais encore un lien ideal, a consequences pratiques, entre les hommes et les etres surhumains auxquels ils croient, voire entre tons les etres ou meme tous les elements de I'Univers. A ce titre, elle constitue une societe tran- scendante, regie par des lois fixes qu'on pent comparer aux lois naturelles de la societe generale, mais qui, a certains egards, ont une portee plus large et constituent des lors ce que M. Raoul de la Grasserie a justement appele une cosmo-sociologie. De meme que d'autres sciences auxiliaires de I'hierologie, la sociologie a pretendu s'annexer I'histoire de la religion. Une ecole recente, partant de I'assertion que I'homme, avant de prendre con- science de son individualite, a eprouve le sentiment de faire partie d'un groupe, soutient que le germe de la croyance a une puissance surhumaine doit etre exclusivement cherche dans les faits de la vie sociale — soit que la conception des ames individuelles ait ete precedes par celle d'une ame collective (M. Henri Huber et jusqu'a un certain point M. Frazer), soit que la religion ait debute par un systeme de tabous, c'est-a-dire de restrictions sociales, qui sont une consequence necessaire de la vie en commun (Salomon Reinach). Quelques sociologues contestent meme que I'initiative individuelle ait pu se manifester dans la religion, tous les phenomenes de cet ordre ^tant le produit d'une tradition ou d'une suggestion. Comme les hommes ont toujours vecu a I'etat de societe, il est parfaitement admissible que leurs manifestations religieuses aient et^ des I'origine, conditionnees jusqu'a un certain point par leur etat social ; mais il en est de meme pour tous les phenomenes de leur vie mentale, alors cependant que I'explication de ces phenomenes ap- partient incontestablement au doraaine de la psychologie. II faut. 1. Preddenfs Address : Goblet d'Alviella 377 sans doute, dans Thistoire des croyances et des rites, assigner un role plus considerable a ce qu'on a nomme la Volkerpsychohgie, la psychologie des peuples ou plutot de I'espece humaine. Mais, a cote des manifestations religieuses, qu'on pent regarder, a raison de leur generalite, comme s'etant produites independamment des indivi- dus, il reste a rendre compte des variations entre les croyances, et ici il semble impossible de ne pas faire la part des initiatives individuelles, d'autant plus considerables qu'on s'eleve davantage sur Techelle des religions. On ne pent guere attendre d'un homme, meme le plus ^rudit, qu'il possede egalement a fond toutes les sciences dont je viens d'esquisser le role dans la constitution de I'hierologie — pas plus qu'on ne peut lui demander d'avoir frequente toutes les peuplades dont il pretend utiliser les manifestations religieuses ou d'avoir appris toutes les langues dans lesquelles les hommes du present et du pass^ ont formule leurs croyances. Mais, dans chacune de ces disciplines les specialistes, qui s'y sont plus ou moins cantonnes, sont arrives aujour- d'hui a des conclusions positives dont nous pouvons faire etat dans notre travail de rapprochement et de synthese. Ainsi que le dernier titulaire de la chaire d'histoire des Religions au College de France, Jean Reville, I'exprimait, il y a deux ans, dans son discours d'inaugu- ration qui devait etre son chant du cygne : ' La veritable methode historique est la meme partout. Quand on I'a pratiquee soi-meme en une partie quelconque de Thistoire, on acquiert par cette pratique une certaine aptitude a discerner si elle a ^te bien dument appliquee ailleurs.' L'hierographie est restee longtemps la plus maltraitee, sinon la plus n^ligee des sciences historiques. Chacun ne I'abordait qu'avec timidite, quand il s'agissait de ses propres croyances, ou avec pre'- vention, quand il s'agissait des croyances des autres. On la regardait avec defiance, sinon avec defaveur. On pretendait lui interdire I'examen de certains problemes et surtout on la tenait a I'ecart de I'enseignement, sauf la ou Ton cherchait a en faire la servante de I'apologetique. Cependant elle existait tant bien que mal; nous pouvons meme affirmer que, du jour ou les hommes ont cherche a se preoccuper de leur passe, ils ont porte leurs investigations, bien que souvent d'une main tremblante, sur les origines de leurs mythes et de leurs rites. Les temps modernes n'ont fait que proclamer son independance, elargir son domaine et rectifier ses methodes, grace, d'une part, a la constitution de la critique historique, d'autre part, aux merveilleuses decouvertes de I'archeologie et de la philologie 378 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions contemporaines. — Sous cette reserve, Thistoire des religions peut etre dite aussi vieille que la civilisation. II en est autrement de rhierologie. Qu'on la denomme histoire generale de la religion, ou histoire comparee des religions — si nous laissons de cote quelques tentatives de synthese prematurees, comme celles de Dupuis, d'Hegel, de Creuzer, d'Auguste Comte, etc., — elle n'est reellement nee que dans la seconde moitie du xix® siecle, avee les travaux de savants dont les plus eminents viennent seulement de disparaitre : Max MuUer, Cornelius Tiele et Albert ReviUe, brillante triade a laquelle il serait injuste de ne pas aj outer, a des titres divers, les noms d'Ernest Renan; de Herbert Spencer; d'Otto Pfleiderer, dont nos etudes deplorent la perte recente ; enfin du veteran des sciences anthropologiques, que nous avons la bonne fortune de trouver a la tete de notre Congres, Edw. B. Tylor. II fallait assurement, pour rendre leur ceuvre possible, les progres de I'histoire generale realises au cours du dernier siecle, et, en particulier, de toutes les sciences auxiliaires que j'ai enumerees plus haut. Mais ce sont ces savants et leurs eleves qui ont mis les mat^riaux en oeuvre ; au point que, en quelques annees, ils ont reussi a faire reconnaitre I'hierologie, comme branche autonome de nos connaissances, a la fois par la science, par Topinion publique et, dans certaines limites, par les religions elles- memes. Non seulement elle a inspire, dans les derniers temps, de nombreux manuels, tels que les traites generaux d' Albert Reville, Tiele, AUan Menzies, Chantepie de la Saussaye, Louis Jordan, etc., mais encore, s'il faut s'en rapporter aux renseignements fournis par ce dernier, elle a fonde, en moins d'un tiers de siecle, plus de 25 chaires dans les Universit^s des deux continents ^. II suffit d'ailleurs, pour montrer a quel degre les problemes qu'elle souleve interessent le public lettre, de rappeler le succes retentissant des ouvrages publics, en ces dernieres annees, par MM. Robertson Smith, Andrew Lang, Jevons, Sidney Hartland, Frazer, etc., dont il serait superflu de vous rappeler les merites. Meme certains etablisse- ments orthodoxes ont cru devoir inscrire sur leur programme un cours d'histoire comparee des religions, cote a cote avec leur cours d'apologetique, et, tout recemment encore, nous voyions le Gouverne- ment bavarois lui-meme transformer officiellement en chaire d'histoire de religion un cours theologique dont le titulaire etait accuse de ' modernisme '. Quelles sont les causes de ce revirement ou plutot de ce progres ? ' M. Jordan, a la verite, mentionne 129 chaires ou s'enseignerait I'histoire comparee des religions, mais la majorite me semble rentrer plutot dans I'apologetique (Jordan, Comparative Religion, p. 580). 1. President's Address : Goblet dJAhiella 379 II y a d'abord la conviction que rhi^rologie est possible. On ne peut contester qu'elle ne possede desormais des materiaux suffisamment nombreux et solides pour lui permettre d'etablir una classification scientifique des phenomenes religieux. D'autre part, il faut tenir compte des resultats obtenus, dans d'autres domaines, par Temploi de la methode comparative. On est arrive k faire I'histoire comparee du langage, de Tart, de la propriety du mariage, des principales institutions juridiques et sociales. Pourquoi pas de la religion egalement ? II y a ensuite une confiance grandissante dans la validite de ses conclusions. Alors qu'elle s'est montree toujours prete a accueillir les patientes investigations qui tendaient a mettre en lumiere des faits jusque-la laisses dans I'ombre, elle a toujours refuse de s'identifier avec les brillantes mais passageres hypotheses qui pretendaient trouver, dans un seul ordre de phenomenes, la clef de tous les problemes religieux, que ce fut le fetichisme ou la necrolatrie, le culte du feu, de la lumiere ou de la plante, aujourd'hui le totemisme ou le tabouisme. Enfin, il y a la conscience de son utility qui ne reside pas simplement dans la satisfaction d'une curiosite scientifique. Son existence meme implique I'admission de I'idee que, sous toutes les divergences religieuses, il y a une certaine unite de principe et de lois. Cette renaissance, en une forme abstraite et rajeunie, de Tancienne doctrine d'une religion naturelle, n'est faite pour deplaire ni a ceux qui, dans n'importe quel culte, — et leur nombre grandit, s'il faut en juger par des manifestations, comme le Congres des Religions de Chicago, — voudraient degager de toutes ces divergences la loi meme du progres religieux, ni a ceux qui, sans appartenir a aucune confession deter- minee, revent d'enroler la religion dans une croisade pour un peu plus de tolerance et de fraternite parmi les hommes. 380 IX. Method and Scape of the History of Religions 2 THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ORIGIN OF RELIGION By JAMES H. LEUBA. (Abstract) The failure to recognize in Religion three functionally related con- stituents—conation, feeKng, and thought— is responsible for a con- fusing use of the term ' origin '. Some have said that Religion began with the behef in superhuman, mysterious beings ; others that it had its origin in the emotional life, and these usually specify fear ; while a third group have declared that its genesis is to be found in the will- to-live. These three utterances are incomplete, inasmuch as each one of them expresses either the origin, or the original form, of only one of the constituents of Rehgion. I must leave on one side the establishment of the religious attitude or behaviour and the origin of the god-idea, as well as the rise of the methods by which man entered into relation with the divine beings in whom he believes ; and can only endeavour to deal very briefly with the original emotional form of Religion. Two opposed opinions divide the field. The more widely held is that fear is the beginning of Religion ; the other, which is accepted by a small but weighty minority, that it has its origin in a ' loving reverence for known gods '. We shall have Uttle difficulty in arriving at an understanding of the manner in which these two views, instead of opposing, supplement each other. The origins of the two emotions mentioned, fear and love, fall, of course, outside the limits of this paper, since they both existed before Rehgion. ' Fear begets gods,' said Lucretius. Hume concluded that ' the first ideas of rehgion arose . . . from a concern with regard to the events of life and fears which actuate the human mind '. A similar opinion is maintained by most of our contemporaries. Among psychologists, Ribot, for instance, affirms that ' the rehgious sentiment is composed first of all of the emotion of fear in its difi^erent degrees, from profound terror to vague uneasiness, due to faith in an unknown, mysterious, impalpable Power '.^ The fear-theory is well supported by two classes of interdependent facts, observed, we are told, in every uncivilized people : (1) evil spirits are the first to attain a certain degree of definite- ness, (2) man enters into definite relations first with these evil spirits. If the reader will refer to The Origin of Civilization by Lord Avebury ^ he will see there how widely true is the opinion expressed by Schwein- * The Psychology of the Emotions, p. 309. ' 3rd edition, pp. 212-215. 2. Psychological Origin of Religion : Leuha 381 furth, 'Among the Bongos of Central Africa good spirits are quite unrecognized, and, according to the general negro idea, no benefit can ever come from a spirit.' In many other tribes the good spirits are known, but the savage always ' pays more attention to deprecating the wrath of the evil than to securing the favour of the good beings '. The tendency is to let alone the good spirits, because, being good, they will do us good of themselves, just as evil spirits do us harm unsolicited. Shall we, then, admit the fear-origin of Religion ? Yes, provided it be understood that fear represents only one of the three constituents of Religion, that it is not in virtue of a particular quahty or property that fear is the primitive emotional form of Rehgion, and that this admission is not intended to imply the impossibility of Religion having ever anywhere begun with aggressive or tender emotions. " Regarding the second reservation, it should be understood that the making of Religion requires nothing found in fear that is not also present in other emotions. If aggressive emotions are not conspicuous at the dawn of Rehgion, it is only because it so happens that the circumstances in which the least cultured peoples known to us live, are such as to keep fear in the foreground of consciousness. Fear was the first of the weU-organized emotional reactions. It antedated the human species, and appears to this day first in the young animal, as well as in the infant. No doubt, before the protective fear-reaction could have been estabhshed, the lust of life had worked itseK out into aggres- sive habits, those for the securing of food, for instance. But these desires did not, as early as in the case of fear, give rise to any emotional reaction possessing the constancy, definiteness, and poignancy of fear. The place of fear in primitive Religion is, then, due not to its intrinsic quahties, but simply to circumstances which made it appear first as a weU-organized emotion vitally connected with the maintenance of life. It is for exactly the same reason that the dominant emotion in the relations of uncivihzed men with each other and, still more evidently so, of wild animals with each other, is usually that of fear. When I said that fear need not have been the original religious emotion, I had in mind the possibihty of groups of primitive men having lived in circumstances so favoiu'able to peace and safety that fear was not very often present with them. This is not a preposterous supposition. Wild men need not, any more than wild animals, have found themselves so situated as to be kept in a constant state of fright. If the African antelope runs for its life on an average twice a day, as Sir Francis Galton supposes, the wild horse on the South American plains, before the hunter appeared on his pastures, ran chiefly for his pleasure. Travellers have borne testimony to the absence of fear in birds inhabiting certain regions. But, it may be asked, would Religion have come into existence under these peaceful 382 IX, Method and Scope of the History of Religions circumstances ? A life of relative ease, comfort, and security is not precisely conducive to the establishment of practical relations with gods. Why should happy and self-sufficient men look to unseen, mysterious beings for an assistance not really required ? Under these circumstances the unmixed type of fear-Rehgion would never have come into existence. Rehgion would have appeared later, and from the first in a nobler form. In such peoples a feeling of dependence upon benevolent gods, regarded probably as Creators and All-Fathers, and ehciting admiration rather than fear or selfish desire, would have charac- terized its beginnings. This possibility should not be a priori rejected. The other theory is well represented by W. Robertson Smith. He denies that the attempt to appease evil beings is the foundation of Religion. 'IVom the earliest times religion, as distinct from magic or sorcery, addresses itself to kindred and friendly beings, who may indeed be angry with their people for a time, but are always placable except to the enemies of their worshippers or to renegade members of the community. It is not with a vague fear of unknown powers, but with a loving reverence for known gods who are knit to their worshippers by strong bonds of kinship, that religion, in the only sense of the word, begins.' ^ One may agree with Robertson Smith without denying that practices intended to avert impending evils preceded the estabUshment of affectionate relations with benevolent powers. As a matter of fact our author admits this fully. What he denies is that the attempt to propitiate evil spirits in dread is Religion. It cannot be doubted that the inner experience as well as the outer attitude and behaviour of a person are substantially different when he seeks to conciliate a radically evil being and when he communes with a fundamentally benevolent one. Yet in both cases an anthropo- pathic relation with a personal being is established. In this respect, both stand opposed to magical behaviour. This common element is so fundamental that it seems to us advisable to make the name Religion include both types of relation. And since they differ nevertheless in important respects, the phrases Negative ReUgion may be used to designate man's dealings with radically bad spirits, and Positive Religion his relations with fundamentally benevolent ones. Positive Religion is at first not at all free from fear. The benevolent gods are prompt to wrath, and cruelly avenge their broken laws. The more striking development of religious life is the gradual substitu- tion of love for fear in worship.* This is one more reason for not completely dissociating the propitiation of evil spirits from the worship of kindly gods. ' The. Beligion of the Semites, p. 55. ' See on this development, my article, ' Fear, Awe, and the Sublime,' Amer. Journal of Religion, Psychology, and Education, ii, p. 1. 3 MATERIALISMUS, KANTIANISMUS UND RELIGION Von p. DEUSSEN. (Gekurzt) Seitdbm Cbpernicus durch sein 1543 erschienenes Werk, De orbium coelestium revolutionibus, iiber unser Sonnensystem die heliocentrische Anschauung aufstellte oder vielmehr erneuerte, liess sich fiir ein konsequentes Denken der mittelalterliohe Gottesbegriff nicht mehr aufrecht erhalten- Die Welt bestand nicht mehr aus Himmel und Erde, sondem an deren Stelle erstreckte sich nach alien Seiten der unendliche Raum und in ihm war nur das was ihn erfiiUte. Dass der Baum unendlich ist, kann von denen, welche nicht von Vorurteilen beherrscht werden, nicht bezweifelt werden. tjberall ist der Raum, es giebt nichts was ausserhalb desselben ware, alles, was iiberhaupt existiert, muss notwendigerweise im Raume existieren. Es kann dieses aber nur, sofern es einen Raum erfiillt ; das den Raum Erfiillende aber heisst Materie. Es ist dies die genaueste Definition, die sich von der Materie geben lasst. Hiemach muss aUes, was existiert, materiell sein, die Materialitat, d. h. die Raumerfiillung, ist die einzige Form, in welcher die Dinge fiir uns existieren konnen. In der Tat kann niemand emstlich daran denken, dass er im ganzen Universum, in alien Nahen und in alien Femen, je etwas andres antreffen konnte, als den leeren Raum und in ihm nur und aUeia die zu Sonnen und Planeten, leuchtenden und beleuchteten Korpem gebaUte Materie. Durch diese Anschauung wird das Dasein Gottes zur Unmoghchkeit. Vordem suchte man dasselbe zu beweisen. Nachdem Kant diese Beweise zertriimmert hatte, trostete man sich mit der Behauptung, dass doch auch das Gegenteil sich nicht beweisen lasse. Es steht aber vielmehr so, dass vom empirischen Standpunkte sich sehr wohl beweisen lasst, dass es keinen Gott gebe, keinen geben konne. Damit war das hochste Gut dem religiosen Bewusstsein geraubt und, wie es schien, unwiederbringUch verloren. Nicht anders war es mit dem Glauben an die Unsterblichkeit der Seele. Die Natur in ihrer nicht misszuverstehenden Sprache sagt es deutlich imd naiv aus, dass wir alle durch Zeugung und Gebtirt aus dem Nichts, welches wir vorher waren, zu einem Etwas geworden sind, und dass wir durch den Tod aus diesem Etwas in jenes Nichts zuriickkehren. Was werden wir alle nach 100 Jahren sein? Nicht mehr und nicht weniger als was wir vor 100 Jahren gewesen sind, d. h., empirisch betrachtet, Nichts. Die Unsterbhchkeit der Seele 384 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions schien auf dem Standpunkte der modernen Weltanschauung unrettbar verloren zu sein. Nicht besser stand es mit dem dritten und letzten unter den hochsten Giitern der Menschheit, mit der Freiheit des Willens und der nur unter ihrer Voraussetzung moglichen Moralitat. Es giebt ein Gesetz, welches alles Werden in der Welt mit ausnahmslosem Zwange beherrscht, das Gesetz der Causalitat ; welches besagt, dass jede Wirkung in der Welt mit Notwendigkeit erf olgen muss sobald die entsprechende Ursache in der VoUzahligkeit ihrer Bedingungen vor- handen ist. Zu diesen Wirkungen gehoren auch alle menschlichen Handlungen. Sie alle sind das Produkt zweier Paktoren, von sub- jektiver Seite eines bestimmten Charakters, von objektiver Seite der auf ihn einwirkenden Motive. Ob der Charakter des Menschen wandelbar sei oder nicht, kommt hierbei nicht in Betracht. Es geniigt festzustellen, dass diese beiden Faktoren, der Charakter und die Motive, als die Ursachen der Handlung ihrer Wirkung, wie jede Ursache der Wirkung zeithch vorangehn, somit im AugenbUcke der Handlung schon der Vergangenheit angehoren, folglich nicht mehr in unsrer Hand sind. Materialismus, Nihilismus und Determinismus sind somit die unabweisbaren Resultate der empirischen Weltanschauung. Wenn sich das religiose Bewusstsein gegen sie mit aller Gewalt straubt und in aller Zukunft strauben wird, so geschieht dies aus dem dunkeln Gefiihle heraus, dass die zum voUen Materialismus als ihrer not- wendigen Consequenz hinstrebende empirische Anschauung der Dinge und alle ihr dienenden empirischen Wissenschaften nicht die voile Wahrheit besitzen, nicht imstande sind, iiber das eigentliche und in- nerste Wesen der Dinge die tiefsten und letzten Aufschliisse zu geben. Dieses dunkle Gefiihl zu dem Lichte wissenschaftlicher Klarheit und Uberzeugung erhoben zu haben, ist das unsterbUche Verdienst der Kantischen Philosophic. Man kann sagen, dass sie in wissen- schaftlicher Form dasselbe aussprach, was alle religiosen Lehrer der Menschheit intuitiv ergriffen hatten, man konnte sagen, dass diese aUe unbewusste Anhanger der noch gar nicht vorhandenen Kantischen Philosophie gewesen seien. Wie gelangte Kant zu seinen grossen Entdeckungen ? Er bemerkte, wie von jeher der menschhche Geist sich nicht an der empirischen Anschauung geniigen liess, wie er, sehnsiichtig und eines hohem Ursprungs sich bewusst iiber alle Erfahrung hinausging, um zu solchen Heilswahrheiten, wie sie das Dasein Gottes, die UnsterbHchkeit der Seele und die Freiheit des Willens sind, zu gelangen. Diese Vorstel- lungen nannte Kant, weil sie aUe Erfahrung iibersteigen, transcendent, und die Aufgabe, welche er sich stellte, zu priifen, ob die menschliche Vernunft solche transcendenten Objekte mit wissenschaftUcher 3. Materialismus, Kantianismus und Religion: Deussen 385 Sicherheit erweisen konne.nannte er eine transcendentale. Zu diesem Zwecke unternahm er in der Kritik der reinen Vernunft eine tief- dringende Analysis nicht nur dieser, sondern des ganzen menschlichen Erkenntnisvermogens, welches er nach einer althergebrachten, aber unhaltbaren Einteilung in Sinnlichkeit, Verstand und Vernunft zerlegte, und nun nach einander die Krafte dieser verschiedenen Erkenntnisvermogen und ihre Tragweite untersuchte. Das Ergebnis dieser Analysis war vorauszusehen. Es bestand in dem klaren Nachweise, dass alle unsre Erkenntniskrafte nur im Stande sind, den von der ausseren und inneren Wahrnehmung geheferten Stoff in sich aufzunehmen und zum Ganzen der Erfahrung zu verweben, dass sie aber nun und nimmer dazu ausreichen, iiber die Erfahrung hinaus- zugehen und das zu erkennen, an welchem uns mehr als an allem andern gelegen ist. Soweit war das Ergebnis der Kantischen Kritik ein negatives. Aber indem Kant die alten und morschen Lehrgebaude der rationalen Psychologic, Kosmologie und Thcologie zertriimmerte, wuchs ihm unter den Handen eine neue und positive Erkenntnis hervor, die er vielleicht selbst nicht erwartet hatte, deren Tragweite er jedenfalls noch nicht zu ermessen imstande war. Er kommt uns dabei vor (wenn es erlaubt ist, einen von Goethe am Schlusse des Wilhelm Meister gepragten Ausdruck auf Kant anzuwenden), wie Saul, der Sohn des Kis, welcher von seinem Vater ausgesandt wurde, die Eselinnen zu suchen und eine Konigskrone fand. Indem namhch Kant den menschlichen Intellekt mit einer nie vorher dagewesenen Penetration und Besonnenheit analysierte, indem er ihn vne ein Uhrwerk in seine Telle zerlegte und die Bedeutung dieser Telle sowie ihr Zusammenwirken im wesentlichen richtig bestimmte, machte er zu seiner und der Welt Uberraschung die grosste Entdeckung, welche je auf dem Gebiete der Philosophie gemacht worden ist. Es stellte sich namhch bei seiner Zerghederung des Bewusstseins heraus, dass gewisse Grundelemente des Universums, welche wir von Haus aus vermoge der Naturbestimmung unsres Intellektes fiir ewige, den Dingen an sich zukommende Bestimmungen halten, nicht dieses sind, sondern vielmehr angeborene Funktionen unsres Intellektes. Diese Bestandstiicke der realen Welt, welche Kant als bloss subjektive Formen der Erkenntnis nachwies, sind : 1. der Raum ; 2. die Zeit; und, wenn wir von den von Kant mit Unrecht in diesen Zusammenhang hereingezogenen abstrakten Kategorien absehen, 3. die Causahtat, nebst der ihr als objektives Correlat entsprechenden SubstantiaUtat. Diese Lehre von dem nur vorstellungsartigen Charakter, oder kurz gesagt, von der Idealitat des Raumes, der Zeit und der Causalitat wurde von Kant nicht nur als eine Behauptung vorgetragen, sondern durch eine Reihe von Beweisen erhartet, welche wir fiir eben so C.E. II c c 386 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions unumstosslich halten, wie die Beweise der Mathematik. Es wiirde zu weit fiihren, hier diese Beweise der Reihe nach vorzufiihren und nur als eine Probe ihrer tjberzeugungskraft mag das Folgende dienen. Ich kann alles aus der Welt wegdenken, nur nicht den Raum, ich kann mir nie eine Vorstellung davon machen, dass kein Raum sei, obwohl ich mir ganz wohl vorstellen kann, dass keine Korper in demselben angetroffen wiirden. Dieser Tatbestand, von dem sich jeder in jedem Augenblicke und immer wieder aufs neue iiberzeugen kann, lasst gar keine andere Erklarung zu, als diese, dass der Raum nicht zu den Dingen, wie sie an sich bestehen mogen, gehort, sondern vielmehr meinem VorsteUungsvermogen als dessen angeborene Funk- tion anhaftet, denn von diesem, und von diesem allein, kann ich mich niemals losmachen. Soviel als eine Probe der Kantischen Beweise. Im iibrigen miissen wir die Bekanntschaft mit ihnen vor- aussetzen und woUen uns hier nur mit den Folgerungen beschaftigen, welche diese Beweise fiir das religiose Bewusstsein haben. Die nachste Folgerung ist, dass die Welt, wie sie als ein raumhch ausgebreitetes, zeitlich verlaufendes und durch die CausaUtat im grossten wie im kleinsten geregeltes Ganze sich darstellt, nur in einem Bewusstsein wie dem meinigen existiert, dass sie aber an sich, d. h. unabhangig von meinem Bewusstsein raumlos, zeitlos und causaUtatlos ist, ein Zustand, von welchem unser ein fiir allemal an die genannten Formen gebundenes Bewusstsein sich keine VorsteUung machen kann. Dieser Fundamentalsatz der Kantischen Philosophic, dass die Welt, wie wir sie kennen, nur Erscheinung, nicht Ding an sich ist, erneuerte in wissenschaftlicher Form das, was die ahnungsvollen Stimmen friiherer Weisen nur intuitiv zu erfassen und auszusprechen wussten ; und wenn die Inder diese Welt fiir eine blosse Maya erklaren, wenn Platon sie fiir eine Welt der Schatten halt, so spricht sich in diesen und ahnlichen Behauptungen dieselbe Wahrheit in unbewiesener Form aus, welche Kant durch seine Beweise zur wissenschafthchen Evidenz erhob und dadurch zum ersten Male in der Weltgeschichte den hochsten religiosen Uberzeugungen der Menschheit eine uner- schiitterliche Grundlage bereitete. Worin diese besteht, lasst sich mit wenigen Worten zeigen. Wir sahen vorher, wie durch die Unendlichkeit des Raumes und durch die Unmoglichkeit, dass etwas anders existieren kann als indem es einen Raum erfiillt, das Dasein Gottes ausgeschlossen war. Kant beweist uns, dass die ganze raumliche Ausbreitung der Welt nur ein subjektives Phanomen ist, und eroffnet dadurch die MogHchkeit, dass hinter dieser raumlichen Weltordnung eine andere, gottliche Ordnung der Dinge besteht, von der wir uns freilich, solange wir an unsre Erkenntnisorgane gebunden sind, nicht die mindeste Vorstellung zu machen vermogen. 3. Materialisms, Kantianismus und Religion: Deussen 387 Die Unsterblichkeit der Seele, diese hochste Hoffnung des Men- schenherzens, wurde seit Platons Zeiten immer wieder durch Beweise zu stiitzen gesucht, welchen jedoch die Natur selbst durch ihre Aussagen iiber Tod und Verwesung jede Glaubwiirdigkeit benahm. Durch Kant wissen wir jetzt, dass der Mensch als Erscheinung den Gesetzen der Zeit unterliegt, mithin wie alles einen Anfang in der Zeit und ein Ende in der Zeit hat, dass er hingegen seiner an sich seienden Wesenheit nach zeitlos ist, dass somit alles Anfangen und Endigen fiir diese seine an sich seiende Natur keine Giiltigkeit haben. Die Unsterbhchkeit ist daher nicht zu denken als eine Fortdauer in der Zeit, sondem als ein Heraustreten aus dem ganzen, phantasma- gorischen Cyklus der Zeitlichkeit in das Gebiet des Zeitlosen, iiber welches unserem an die Zeithchkeit gebundenen Erkennen jede Vorstellung versagt bleibt. Nicht weniger wichtig als Gott und Unsterblichkeit ist fiir das religiose Bewusstsein die tJberzeugung von der Freiheit des Willens. Denn der einzige Weg, unserer ewigen Bestimmung entgegenzureifen, ist das moralische Handeln; Moralitat aber setzt die Freiheit des Willens voraus und ist ohne sie unmoglich. Auf empirischem Stand- punkte ist die Freiheit nicht zu retten, denn die Causahtat beherrscht aUes Endhche mit ausnahmslosem Zwang. Aber auch die Causahtat ist, wie Kant bewiesen hat, nur eine unserm InteUekte anhaftende Vorstellungsform. Fiir unsre Vorstellung erfolgen alle unsre Hand- lungen aus ihren Ursachen mit Notwendigkeit, und dennoch sind sie, wie das Bewusstsein der VerantwortUchkeit bezeugt, nur die in dem causalen Zusammenhang der Erscheinungen auftretenden Ausser- ungen eines an sich freien WiUens. Die empirische Notwendigkeit und die metaphysische Freiheit bestehen in jeder einzehien Hand- lung zusammen. Empirisch ist unser Handehi unfrei, das ist ganz gewiss, ebenso gewiss wie die Tatsache, dass dieser Tisch vor mir steht ; ebenso gewiss, aber auch nicht gewisser. Und wie dieser Tisch nach seiner raumlichen Ausbreitung in Breite, Hohe und Lange nur Erscheinimg ist und als Ding an sich ganz anderen, uns unbekannten Gesetzen unterhegt, so gehort auch die so oft bewiesene Unfreiheit des Willens nur der grossen Weltillusion an, in welcher wir befangen sind, solange wir leben. Aber die Zeit wird fiir jeden von uns kommen, wo wir Raum, Zeit und Causahtat wie ein veraltetes Kleid abwerfen und zu imsrer ewigen Bestimmung eingehen werden, welche das religiose Bewusstsein vorausahnt und in mancherlei Bildern sich vorzustellen versucht, welche aber fiir das wissenschafthche Denken durch die Kantische Philosophie ebenso vollkommen sichergestellt ist, wie sie andrerseits vollkommen unerkennbar bleibt und bleiben musste, um die alle egoistischen HofEnungen verbietende Reinheit des morahschen Handelns zu wahren. cc2 388 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions A PRAGMATIC VIEW OF COMPARATIVE RELIGION By I. ABRAHAMS. (Abstract) Among the aims of the Science of Comparative Rehgion some include the determination of the ' relative superiority or inferiority ' of religions regarded as types. But such an estimate of values belongs to Apolo- getics. Comparative Rehgion no more leads to a preference for a religion than Comparative Philology to the choice of a mother tongue. Comparative Rehgion hardly exists yet as an organized science. What goes by that name is really an investigation of Origins. The com- parative method with the aid of Psychology has successfully sought the origin of the idea of deity, and with the aid of history has delved deep into the beginnings of rites and behefs. All this is the embryo- logy of Religion, not its biology. Science is also concerned with the developed organism. Comparative students are still suffering from totemitis. This is natural. What is called primitive culture is a fascinating and important branch of the Science of Rehgion. Moreover, science deals with facts ; and the newest, the most accessible, the most objective, facts are those turned up by the spade of the excavator or amassed by the observer of extant savage customs. But in the attempt to discover law there is not only a tendency to find one key to open all locks, but a grouping together, as hke, of the unhke. The Science of Rehgion has to regard finished products as well as beginnings, fruits as well as seeds. And here there must be an open mind. It is the function of science to discard the a 'priori belief that sequence in time spells progress in rehgion. Not only does such a behef lose sight of the well-authenticated facts of Degeneration, but it apphes to small intervals of time principles only apphcable to vast processions of ages. The interval that separates animistic phases of rehgion from our own is insignificant as compared to the aeons that lay behind animism and lie before us. But most serious of all in the current theories of the evolution of religion is the ignoring of the possibihty that diver- gences may be simply what they are — divergences, in the same plane, not necessarily on different levels. Science must trace out with equal mind the facts and the fate of each series of phenomena and must not vitiate the inquiry by a 'priori labels of higher and lower. It is important to examine starting-points, but it is also important to know the routes and goals and the comparative condition of the 4. Pragmatic View of Comparative Religion : Abrahams 389 runners as they struggle along their courses. One must also follow out causes to their effects in different environments and along different lines. This can be most effectively done under the impulse of the new Pragmatism. The pragmatic description — it is hardly a definition — of truth amounts to this : There is no absolute truth but only relative truths, truths relative to the need and the good of the persons who hold those truths. The true and the useful are identical. Mendelssohn argued that the same religion is not necessarily good for all, and we should add not necessarily true for all, just as the same form of govern- ment may not equalty fit all nationalities. Variety not unity, many truths not one truth, this may not be the ultimate conclusion (for not even the pragmatist can deny the conceivability of an absolute truth), but it is a most fruitful working hypothesis for the Science of Comparative Religion. There are, on this hypothesis, varying forms of truth equally genuine and valid within their limits, and none signifi- cantly true without its limits. The value of a fabric is not its ideal qualities, but its adaptibiUty to clothe the naked in the cHmate where it is used as a vestment. The admission of this principle carries us far beyond mere toleration of other people's beliefs. It gives for the first time a clue to the understanding of religions, and to their classification not as higher and lower in accordance with conventional judgements, but as successful or unsuccessful in producing certain useful results, from the point of view of those who have sought those results. Point of view is as significant as the thing scent. By this means we may arrive at generalizations and laws far more accurate than the a priori assumptions of a Law of sequential development. Such a Law of development no doubt underlies the varieties of human culture and religion. But we must discover laws before we can look for Law. THE GENETIC STUDY OF RELIGION By J. MARK BALDWIN. (Abstract) The object of the paper, of which a summary is given in this abstract, was to show that the two great methods of studying rehgion, both genetic, yield ' concurrent ' or parallel results. These two methods are called respectively the Psycho-genetic — the study of the develop- ment of religious experience in the individual — and the Anthropo- genetic — the study of the racial or historical evolution of religion. 390 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions I. It is sho^vn in the paper, that recent work in genetic psychology, extended to the psycho-genetic study of rehgion, has estabUshed a view of the development of the sense of Self, which brings individual and racial religious development into essential unity or ' concurrence ' on the following points : — 1. First, the ideal self or 'person, the Deity, develops, both in individual and in racial experience, from cruder to more refined forms, with the development of personal self -consciousness. The ideal, developing 'pari passu with the actual self, can never be a fixed and final object of thought. There is a progressive refinement both of the objective idea, the divine object, and of its spiritual meaning to the worshipper, as being in some sense a self or person. 2. Second, the social character of all religious experience is estab- lished, through the movement by which the personal self develops. This confirms, or ' concurs ' with, the anthropologist's finding to the effect that religious institutions also fulfil an essential social function and role. The divine self of the religious life while ' ejected ' as a separate Person, is also, from the social point of view, the immanent spiritual ideal of the group or nation. The tribal spirit is the tribe's oracle and deity — conceived in terms of an ideal ' socius ' or personal Self. ' Great is Diana of the Ephesians ' is not only a formula of spiritual experience — ^it is also a proclamation of national solidarity. The ideal self, that hovers over the individual and impregnates his personal spiritual life, also stands for the racial ideal of personality in respect to its more social spiritual interests. 3. Third, the rehgious object, the Deity, must always be personal. Nothing can be worshipped but a Self. This represents the culmina- tion, in individual experience, of the processes of give and take between society and the individual, by which the thought of ideal personality is developed. The ideal remains personal to the last. So with the corresponding racial movement. The ideal and end of social, no less than of individual development, is the Great and Perfect Spirit. However low the development on one hand — the deity being a fetish, an image, a mere lifeless thing ; or however high, on the other hand — the divine being defined in logical and ethical terms; everywhere the nucleus of meaning which gives the differentia of religious as con- trasted with other types of experience is that of personality. Some personal or spiritual value, however low and crude its type, is always found in the object that arouses and satisfies the religious impulse. II. Certain corollaries follow. (a) It appears that the actual religious object — that which is set up for worship— always has a symbolic meaning. It stands for a personal and social ideal, which arises in the normal movement of the development of self-consciousness. The symbolic personal meaning 5. The Genetic Study of Religion : Baldwin 391 is the essential thing ; the object merely localizes and symbolizes this meaning, which is one of animation, personification, ejection — ^in short, of personalization — in all its stages of growth. God is what the worshipper intends, an ideal Person, not simply what the object worshipped actually is. (6) Religion thus conceived is an essential thing, the outcome of the profound personal and social movements by which personality is generated. It could not be suppressed except by a mutilation of personality that woxild destroy the entire body of sentiments in which the higher life of feeling and will manifest themselves. It is also an important factor in the evolution of human culture, since in it the successive stages of evolution of the social seK find concrete embodi- ment. These conclusions, I conceive, the two genetic methods of investiga- tions alike establish. 6 THE PLACE OF THE CHRISTIAN TRINITY AND THE BUDDHIST TRIRATNA AMONGST HOLY TRIADS By NATHAN SODERBLOM This paper is intended to show, (1) that the triads most frequently compared to the Christian Trinity, Father, Son, and Spirit, confuse the question of its origin and of its sense rather than elucidate them ; (2) that the only illustrative and perfect analogy furnished by the history of religion is the Buddhist triad of Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha ; and (3) that these two Trinities belong to a very distinct group of non-polytheistic triads, necessarily connected with historical, i. e. founded religion, but clearly formulated only in these — the two most important religions of the world. Instances of triads or trinities of gods and of holy things have often been collected and studied, especially in order to corroborate a trini- tarian ^ or a unitarian dogmatic view. H we, therefore, in our study of triads should chance upon any curious or immature forms, unob- served hitherto, it is in no wise in order to increase — I do not say complete — this collection, but in order to better understand the groups of triads mentioned above. Further, I do not claim to give any ' MaccuUooh, Comparative Theology, 1902, pp. 87 sq., finds that the triads are fulfilled in Christianity. 392 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions explanation which can hold good for all the uncounted masses of three- fold formulas, which abound in the history of religion and in folklore. That great scholar, the late Professor Usener, published a most interesting and valuable contribution to our knowledge of the origin and character of holy triads, in a course of three articles on Dreiheit in Rheinisches Museum fur PMlologie, 1903, which it is hoped wiU be republished as a separate volume with illustrations very soon. Prof. Usener there proposes a single solution for the whole problem : the number three was, and still is with some primitive peoples, the highest number in their reckoning. Thence enumerations of three objects are used as expressing a complete set, that is, as an expression of completeness. Any one who has given the least attention to the laws of rhythm in human movements and music, as well as in poetry, in ordinary talk and in rhetoric, must have been struck by the pre- ponderant role played by the number three in every moment of human expression and human thought. ' AU good things are three,' says a Swedish and German proverb ; and the Greeks spoke of ' the three evils '. Indeed, Usener's explanation of triads as originating in the savage conception of three as the final number, or, I would add, in the stUl-existing rhythmical speU of one, two, three — suffices for a great number of cases, perhaps for the majority. Three is the ready form in which litanies and other formulas are fashioned. But also amongst these there are important distinctions to be drawn ; and, further, one key is never able to open all locks. Three has, indeed, been to a large degree a simple reckoning form ; but there are also things that are actually three ; as, e.g., father, mother, child ; or world, ' overworld ' (if I may use this expression), and underworld in world-wide cosmical schemes ; past, present, and future ; thought, word, and deed, i.e. the ' three doors ' — the Trividlm-dvara of the Buddhist ; the idea is employed also in Brahmanic writings ; with the Jainas (the three Guptis) ; in the Avesta ; and is to be found in Plato, &c., &c. Immanuel Kant would have been much astonished to hear that the conception he took from Rousseau, of the three powers in the state, legislative, executive, and judicial, received its number from the fixed holiness of three. There have really been triads fashioned after such schemes. Here I mention first the cosmical triad, in its two aspects of synchronous or successive divine rulers of the world. Of a tripartite universe allotted to three divinities, the most important instances are Anu, Bel, Ea, and the Greek triad, Zeus, Poseidon, Hades (Pluton) — Kronos's three sons. According to Kojiki, Izanagi divides the world among his three most brilliant children : the sun-goddess is to reign over the plains of heaven, the moon-god over the night, and Susanoo over the plains of the sea — the lower regions belonging stiU to the mother, Izanami. The Nihongi 6. Holy Triads: Soderhlom 393 has a somewhat different division. A synchronous triad results from the Mithraistic cosmogony. The cosmical triad may also be exempli- fied in the history of Cosmos as Uranos, Kronos, Zeus ; or the current triad in Buddhism of the past, the present, and the future Buddha as represented by Sakyamuni, Avalokitesvara, and Maitreya, or the past Buddhas, the future Buddhas, the present Buddhas, according to the Buddhistic creed heard by J. F. Dickson, in 1874, in Anuradha- pura in Ceylon. In Christianity the well-known mediaeval schemes of the history of the world have been modelled on the Christian Triad, Father, Son, and Spirit. This idea might be supposed to have some founda- tion already in the New Testament, the Father being identified with Jahveh, the God of the Old Testament, the Christ appearing in history when the time was fulfilled, and the Spirit's era beginning when Christ had died. Such a conception, nevertheless, scarcely gives a correct rendering of the genuine idea of the Christian Trinity, where the first and the third entities depend on the second and receive from him a new meaning. Amongst the different kinds of triads that the morphology of Com- parative ReUgion must distinguish, in order to grasp their significations and connexions, I wish to mention further four characteristic ones, before arriving at the most essential type of holy triads. These four are : the mythological triad, the hierarchic and intercessionai triad, the enumerative triad, and, as a near relation to this, the purely reiterative triad of divinities. After these, we shall study the triad of historical or founded religion. Upon the mythological triad there is no need to insist. In the advanced state of religious development, when there exist numbers of personal deities, worshipped by the same body of men, and when the theoretical need is felt of mastering and uniting this manifold material, one set naturally comes to the surface, consisting of father, mother, and child. The best-known non-Christian divine family of that type is Osiris, Isis, and Horus. In the Avesta we do not actually find Ahura-Mazda, his daughter and wife Spenta Armaiti, and their son Gaya Maretan united in a formula. But the myth exists ; and Professor Bousset gives good reasons for recognizing an influence from that triad of Father-Creator-Origin, Daughter-Emana- tion-Mother, and Son, when we find that the Manichaeans and others considered ayOpuiiros as the third after iraTT^p and //.jjrjjp. The mythological triad also occupies a great place in the history of Christianity. ' Christian Europe has worshipped the Holy Family for many hundred years ' (Crawley). The real Trinity of mediaeval and Catholic worship consists of Father, Son, and Mother. The gem of the Spanish hall in the National Gallery shows us the Father in 394 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions the air, the young Mother on earth, with her lovely Child ; while the dove between Father and Son symbohzes their connexion. The earthly 'vice-father' is a mere attendant in that company. In a vault of the northern transept of the church which belongs to my prebend— that of the Holy Trinity in Upsala— the Mother is sitting ■irith Father and Son on either side, a regular feature in mediaeval church decoration. The Gnostics, known by Irenaeus, conceived the Trinity as composed of the ' first man ', i.e. the Father, ' the second man,' i.e. the Son, and the Mater viventium, who is the Holy Ghost. According to Origen, the Ophites had a trinity consisting of Father, Mother, and Son. Islam in general, and Muhammad in particular, may be taken as excellent examples of the confusion reigning in Eastern Christendom in popular belief with regard to the Holy Trinity. Of the three late passages in the Koran opposed to the trinitarian belief, two expressly mention the mother as the third person : ' The Messiah, the Son of Mary, is only a prophet . . . and his Mother was a confessor ; they both ate food ' {Sura 5. 77) ; ' and when God shall say, " O Jesus, son of Mary, hast thou said unto mankind : take me and my mother as two Gods besides Gtod ? " ' (5. 116). Islamic commentaries took the same view. Usener has shown, by the way, that the triad, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, is also often found in popular Christian art. At the end of one of his conferences in the Notre-Dame de Paris, Father Hyacinthe, after having recalled the interpolated Johannine passage about the three that bear record in heaven, exclaimed : ' three are they, that bear witness on earth : the Father, the Mother, the Son.' But the derivation of the characteristic Christian Trinity— Father, Son, and Spirit — ^from this mythological triad is a mistake. It has been alleged that the Spirit is most often feminine in the Aramaic language. That fact accounts for the well-known scene in the so- called gospel of the Hebrews, after the baptism, described by Jesus : ' My mother, the Holy Ghost, took me by the hair and carried me to the great mountain Tabor.' In the third century it was ordained in Syria to honour the deaconesses as the Holy Spirit. Aphraates, in the fourth century, speaks in a sermon about the unmarried as one who yet loves and honours God as his father and the Holy Ghost as his mother. The Syriac language, with its feminine rucha, has thus facilitated the natural tendency— the tendency of the religion of nature — to identify the Christian Trinity with the mythical one. But it does not give us the origin of the third entity in the Christian triad. One cannot readily believe that the third person ought to have become the mother, and only became the Spirit through an accidental phenomenon in the Syriac language. There has been. 6. Holy Triads: Soderhlom 393 during the whole existence of the Church, a tendency to regard the third person as feminine, owing in part to a tradition derived from the Syriac and from gnostic conceptions, and in part to a subconscious or deliberate wish of pious people and of religious writers with a strong sense of the concrete, to express the mild, gracious, comforting, and consoling character of the Holy Spirit. Professor Usener quotes a German Volksbuch of the present time, where the Holy Ghost is called ' the mother of all spirits '. I have found a striking analogy, without any historical connexion, in one of the strongest and most personal preachers I ever heard, the Norwegian missionary, Johannes Johnsson, who, in an edifying article contributed to a Christmas pubUca- tion some years ago, tried to show from the Scripture and from Christian experience — without any trace of mythical tendency — that the Holy Ghost might be thought of as being female. More attention is claimed by the hierarchical and intercessional triads. Prof. Heinrich Zimmern, twelve years ago called attention to the triad characteristic of Babylonian incantations : Father and Son, generally Ea with Marduk, and a third intercessional divinity, the god of the fire — Gibil or Nusku. The lofty ruler can be approached only through intermediaries. Human society has its counterpart in the divine society. Feehngs of unhappiness, unrest, and guilt are inclined to seek for nearer and more merciful helpers than the mighty distributer of good and evil. This universal fact of religious psychology is well known also from Christianity as well as from Buddhism, In northern Buddhism the heavenly hierarchy is a most elaborate one. In Christianity Christ is placed between God's wrath and poor, sinful humanity. Here evangelical piety remains stationary, without widening the list of intercession. Roman CathoUc piety moves more freely ; Christ him- seK is the great king and judge. I heard a Lent preacher in Brussels, some twelve years ago, emphatically pity Judas before a crowded audience, because he never thought of appealing to Mary. Christ could not forgive the traitor and save him ; but a mother's loving heart can forgive all things. She would have pitied him, and saved him. There is no reason why there should be only three persons — God, Christ, and Mary. Popular piety is not confined to these. It is related of St. Francis that he will pity when no one else mU ; and there are legions of saints to intercede in their proper order before the holy Virgin. It is a striking fact that such an intercessional hierarchy has not been regularly made up of the triad, Father, Son, and Spirit. The Son intercedes with the Father ; the Holy Ghost has been, since the time of Paul, the great intercessor in feelings of helplessness and the deep experiences of a praying mind. ' The Spirit helpeth our 396 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions infirmity.' ' The paraklete abideth with you.' But it can scarcely be said that the Holy Ghost has become an intercessor or a hierarchic link between Christ and the faithful. The Filioque clause— originating in Western Christianity as an outcome of the historical revelation- has not, as a rule, been used in that way. In the Pauline conception, and partly in the Acts, the Spirit is practically identified with the risen and hving Lord. Popular devotion in other surroundings, less bound by the historical personality of Jesus, has recurred to conceptions other than the Spirit, when it has been seeking for intercessors between itself and Christ. The emanative triads constitute a near relative of the hierarchic type. The idea of emanation occurs, in a very crude and palpable form, among primitive peoples. The refinement of a higher intel- lectual culture is never able to alter its natural character. Taoism seems to recognize a kind of emanative triad, consisting of Lao Tzu, P'an Ku — the primordial man — and the Ruler of the Universe. Ac- cording to Prof. Giles, the idea of a Trinity was adopted from Buddhism. In Mahayanistic mysticism every historic Buddha may be viewed in a triple form of existence, as living on earth, as existing metaphysically in Nirvana, i.e. as a Dhyani Buddlia, and, as a reflex of himself, a spiritual son is generated in the world of forms for the purpose of propagating the religion established by him during his earthly career. Thus Sakyamuni's Dhyani Buddha is called Amitabha, and his spiritual reflex Avalokitesvara.^ The emanative triads of Greek Neoplatonic philosophy became of considerable importance in the history of Christianity as well as in that of Islam. Successive ideas of emanation served partly as arguments and expressions in the discussions and elaboration of dogma, and partly brought about a definite idea of the conception of the Church as being opposed to themselves. But a second fact is quite as evident : that those emanative triads cannot explain the origin of the triad. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The connexion of emanation with the mythological family is chai'ac- teristic both of Hellenistic systems and of so-called Gnosticism, and shows that their common essence is found in reUgions of nature, or heathenism. The Hellenistic, heathen Poimandres derives ^ovhlj from 6eds ( = vovi), and makes her conceive by him Xdyos. The Prodicians stated, according to Clemens, that the one, to h, not willing to be alone, causes the iiruTrvoia to emanate from it ; by her it conceived 6 dyaTTT^rds. The same conception is found among the Naassenes and the Ophites. Bardesanes finds the father and the mother symbohzed by the sun and the moon. Likewise the ' B. J. Eitel, Three Lectures on Buddhism, p. 110, Srd ed., Hongkong, London, 1884. 6. Holy Triads: Soderhlom 397 Manjchaeans ; also Jewish speculation, in the Sohar, enumerates amongst the Sophiroth, Father, Mother, and Son. We have already stated the strong tendency apparent in the history of Christianity to identify the Christian Trinity with that conception, in making the Holy Ghost a female emanation from the father, that becomes then mother of the son. But the history of the speculation starting from naturalistic groups, i. e. the historical origin of the Christian triad, prevailed. Islam owes also, probably, to a certain extent, to Greek philosophy, several speculations about Ali and the following divine manifestations. The Nosairis, who consider Ali as the only God, place him at the head of a trinity, consisting of him as the eternal creative ' Idea ', of Muhammad as his ' Name ' — the veil under which he reveals himself — and Salman, issued from Muhammad (and the earliest convert and one of the most revered ' Companions ' of the prophet) as the ' Gate ', the entrance accorded to the believers. These conceptions were borrowed from the Ishmaelites.^ The priority of the number three as originator of the formula is much more evident in two classes not yet studied by us : in the reiterative and in the enumerative triads. The reiterative triads consist simply in a threefold representation of a divinity in image or in formula. To this class belong the Greek representations of three images of the same god together. Usener thinks that all three-headed (or more-headed) divinities are a simpli- fication of three whole bodies (or more). Three-headed supernatural beings are found in India, Iran, Greece, amongst the Kelts, and amongst the Slaves. Popular and artistic imagination in Western Europe applied this reiterative triad to the Christian Trinity — as it seems in a certain harmony with western trinitarian formulas, where Father, Son, and Spirit are treated as three identical entities forming one, ter unus, as the Hermes: 'Qualis Pater, talis Filius, tahs et Spiritus Sanctus.' But the Church, certainly obeying a correct instinct, never acknowledged such a representation, but eagerly combated it, although even to-day the Holy Trinity can be seen in France, Italy, and Spain as three identical bearded heads put together. The enumerative triad gathers three divinities worshipped together ; they may be mighty divinities, sometimes the three mightiest divinities, or three divinities taking a rank above all others. Later speculation goes further in taking them as three appearances of the same eternal being. The most important species of this type is the Hindu Trimurti, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, later considered as the three revelations of Prajapati or of the impersonal Brahman. Or again, two of the ^ R. Dussaud, Histoire et Religion des Nosairis, Bibl. de I'Ecole des Hautes- !^tudes. Browne, Lit. History of Persia, i. 203. 398 IX. Method and, Scope of the History of Religions names may form an appendix to the chief divinity, whether Vishnu or Siva. ' With most of the sects the triad is only a formula without any meaning. Brahma figures in it only to make up a number.' i Agni, Vayu, Stirya, form another and more orthodox triad, the three being emanations from the one eternal Being. The triad of the later Achaemenians, Ahura-Mazda, Mithra, and Anahita, has quite a different historical connexion, being not a reduc- tion of the embarras de richesse of polytheism, but, on the contrary, a later addition to a semi-monotheistical conception. I need not insist upon the frequency of such representations as Odin, Thor, Frey, &c. ; the most numerous collection is to be found in Usener's brilHant treatise. Nor yet need I insist on the fact that the Christian Trinity is frequently considered, not only by popular devo- tion, but also in theology, as a set of divinities, gathered together, wor- shipped together, but where the number three has no necessity in itself. It may be an unchanging fact that they are three, but the litanj' can also be larger— Father, Son, Holy Ghost, the Holy Virgin, Arch- angels, Saints, &c., &c. In this context we naturally think of Roman CathoUc popular custom and belief ; but analogous phenomena can be observed also in hymns used in Protestant churches, and in other undogmatical expressions of living piety. An old Swedish woman was asked by her vicar, ' How many gods have we ? ' After a moment's reflection, she answered, ' Seven.' ' What seven ? ' ' The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob make three ; then. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost make six.' ' But you told us of seven ; who is the seventh one, then ? ' ' That 's the good old God.' She had some knowledge of the Bible and of the Catechism, but she had also a living religion of her own. As far as theology is concerned. Dr. Moberly's words, ' there is amongst Christians not a httle popular thought which, meaning to be orthodox, is, in fact, more or less tritheistic,' may be appUed also to certain theological treatments of the Trinity. It is obvious, then, that in all these triads the number three is not essential, but more or less accidental. We have seen that the hier- archical and intercessional triad has, in its own psychological back- ground, a tendency to augment the links of the chain which binds together earth and heaven : the same is true of emanations. And in these enumerative liturgical triads, why not three, four, or more ? In the richest and most compUcated mythology of the world — the Buddhist pantheon in Tibet, China, and Japan — and in the monuments of the Gandhara art in India, we see deities, Bodhisattvas, and Buddhas represented in groups of threes, fives, and eights.^ * A. Barth, The Religions of India, 3rd ed., p. 182. ' A. Grunwedel, Buddhist Art in India. Translated by A. C. Gibson ; revised and enlarged by J. Burgess. London, 1901. 6. Holy Triads: Soderblom 399 These groups of triads had an important part in the popular and theological interpretation of the Christian Trinity, but without teach- ing its real and original character. There yet remains a group of triads to which I would call special attention. One of its characteristics consists in the essential and necessary character of the number three. There is not here a frame into which the holy things are entered tant bien que mal. Nor can a fourth entity of a co-ordinate importance be added. These triads spring directly out of historical, founded religion, although they have been clearly formulated and fixed only in Buddhism and Christianity. The three words, Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha, existed before in their general meaning of spiritual enlightenment (or perhaps only ' awakening ', according to Mr. Rhys Davids), of a doctrine or law for deliverance and salvation, and of a community or brotherhood, a new humanity, a congregation, a church.^ But in the Buddhist doctrine of the three ' jewels ', ratna, or the three ' refuges ', iarana, the perfect analogy to the Christian Trinity is apparent, thence throwing up more conspicuously the fundamental difference between the essentially mystical and supernatural religion, implying a creative synthesis, a keen trust in a divine order of things, which natural observation and calculation must deem incredible and paradoxical ; and on the other hand the rational religion of analytic psychology — 'die einzige, eigentlich positivistische ReUgion, die uns die Geschichte zeigt ' ^ — ^the difference between creative and analytical revelation. I shall not touch upon all the most instructive points of difference between the two formulas, mentioning two alone : in the Buddhist formula the ' revelation ' consists of admirable advice concerning the source of suffering and rebirth, and how to be quit of them ; while in the Christian triad the ' revelation ' means God the Father. Again, in the Buddhist formula we find a congregation, an assembly or order of monks — joined together by numbers of rules and regulations ; while the corresponding third entity in the Christian formula is a mystical power, experienced by the great men of God and, at several epochs, by groups of ordinary men and women, producing vehement moral, but also psychical and physiological results amongst those who felt in this overwhelming spirit the might of the risen Lord, a power, the difficulty of controlhng which inspired many pages of St. Paul's letters, a power, mysterious and superhuman in its origin and effect, even as the wind that blows. But if that difference be duly observed, the analogy could not be ^ According to early Buddhism, Sakyamuni himself was an Arhat. To Maha- yana it became an important question whether Buddha belonged to the Sangha or not. In early Buddhism 'there is no god but the Dhamma' (Hardy). " Nietzsche. 400 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions closer. We might further claim that the stress in both formulas is laid upon the central figures, the Dhamma and the Christ— a fact which was, in both cases, the definite consequence of their preaching, since Buddha summoned to Dhamma and Christ summoned to Himself. The fact that Dhamma follows Buddha in the formula, as well as in history, does not imply any subordination. On the contrary. The Maha-parinibbana-sutta makes the Master, who lies sick unto death, say to Ananda : ' The Tathagata thinks not that it is he who should lead the brotherhood, or that the order is dependent upon him.' And later in the same document the Master addresses Ananda in these terms : ' It may be, Ananda, that in some of you the thought may arise, " The word of the Master is ended, we have no teacher more ! " But it is not thus, Ananda, that you should regard it. The doctrines and the rules of the order which I have set forth and laid down for you all, let them be your teacher after I am gone.' In fact, Buddha is identified with the Doctrine, the Law. To see the Buddha and to see the Law are frequently used in Pali literature as meaning one and the same thing. One is tempted to compare with it : ' Whosoever sees Me, sees the Father.' And the analogy is right so far, inasmuch as the Father corresponds to the Dhamma in early Buddhism. As the Law is in the Master, so the Father is in the Son of Man. Buddha says : 'It is of no use to see only my body ; no, he who sees the Doctrine, sees me, and he who sees me, sees the Doctrine.' Only he who has understood the Doctrine sees what is Buddha's real gift and value for himself. ' The Dhamma is,' according to the Master, ' the first thing in the world.' ^ Further speculation made of Dhamma the real body, the real content of a Buddha, and of the Buddhas. ' The Buddhas ought to be looked upon as equivalent to the Dhamma ; the leaders, indeed, are the Dhamma embodied,' says the Vajrachedika. In the Mahayanistic doctrine of the Trikaya — the three bodies of a Buddha — analysed by Prof. L. de la Valine Poussin, the first and principal body of a Buddha is his spiritual enhghtenment or his knowledge of the doctrine. The very term dhammakaya means ' the body of the Doctrine,' the ' Doc- trine-body ' of the Tathagatas. On one of the various types of the triratna that are to be found in Tibet, China, and Japan, we find in the midst, on the most prominent place, a written table, symbolizing the Dhamma, between two Buddhas or two Bodhisattvas. Haraprasad Sastri, in his treatise on Living Buddhism in Bengal, states that Dhamma is the principal of the three jewels. Both Dhamma and Sangha belong, after Prajna Paramita, to the older personifications of Buddhist cult. In Bengal Dhamma is still worshipped as divine, with images and sacrifices, by the lower castes. ' ' The nature of the Tathagata is the Dhamma ... he is really Dhamma ' (Agganna-sutta, Hardy). 6, Holy Triads: Soderhlom 401 In the most remarkable document that exists concerning Sakyamuni's hfe, the Maha-parinibbana-sutta, Subhadda, the last disciple converted by the Master himself, ' took his refuge in the Holy One, in the doctrine and in the order.' The second book of the collection of early Buddhistic hymns, known as Sutta-Nipata, contains, in Ratanasutta, a poetical apotheosis of the three Ratanas, in the original form of the historical Sakyamuni, his doctrine of salvation, and his disciples. By these excellent jewels any one may win salvation. ' The Buddha preached, for the good of all, his glorious law, which leads to Nirvana.' Therefore these three must be worshipped. The rich Brahmans, the young Magha, and the other proselytes are there represented as using the fixed formula : ' We take refuge in the Tathagata Buddha, in the Dhamma, and in the Sangha of the Bhikkhus.' The small treatise, Kuddaka Patha, begins with the formula of refuge. The dharma-cakra-pravartana — ' the setting in motion onwards of the wheel (sign of universal dominion) of the Law,' i.e. of the truth of salvation '^ — took place, properly speaking, through the sermon at Benares. The Lalitavistara makes a god bring the wheel and give it to Buddha in order that he may move it as his forerunners, the former Buddhas, had done. By this sermon or teaching, the five ascetics were won for the newly-discovered truth — ^that is to say, the Sangha, the order, was created, and the three jewels, the holy triad of Triratna, were realized in the world. This combination of the turning of the wheel and the triratna is frequently symbolized in sculptures in the North- West of India, in which the Gandhara artists surmount the original wheel (with the trident) with three other wheels, the whole surrounded by devout and adoring monks.^ Later, especially in Mahayanistic books, speculation took hold of the holy triad and gave it a philosophical sense. A rich variety of other triads supplants the historical trinity. In the Amitayur-dhyana Sutra Buddha Amitayus — ' the reflex spirituality of Amitabha ' has on his right hand the Bodhisattva of great strength (Mahasthama), and on Ms left side the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, the graciously looking Lord. In the religious art of Nepal, Tibet, China, &c., the figures of the genuine Ratnatraya, as represented by Dhamma, Buddha, and Sangha, are not very prevalent. But the worship of the three statues of ' what are popularly, though not quite correctly, called the past, present, and future Buddhas,' * represented by Sakyamuni, the historic founder of ancient Buddhism, with Avalokitesvara (or Kwan- yin), the head of actual Buddhism, and Maitreya, the coming Buddha, ' Mr. Rhys Davids translates: ' the foundation of a kingdom of righteousness.' ' A. Poucher, Vart greco-bovMhique du Oandhdra, i. pp. 428 sq., Paris, 1905. ' Eitel. C.E.II D d 402 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions is popular. The three Buddhas or Bodhisattvas are as common in Buddhist art as their interpretation is vague and uncertain.^ The three colossal images, perhaps over thirty feet high, in sitting posture, that adorn the background of Chinese Buddhist temples, often represent one of the triads just spoken of, i. e. Amitabha, with AvaloMtesvara on his left, and Mahasthamaprapta on his right hand, or the historic Buddha surrounded by the reigning Bodhisattva and the future Buddha. But they may also represent the old Buddhist trinity. ' You will at once recognize the statue of Sakyamuni Buddha by the curled hair and the curious top-knot on his head. The second statue is conspicuous by its four arms, two of which are folded in prayer, whilst the third holds a rosary and the fourth a book : for this is the second person in the Trinity, called Dharma. The third constituent of the Trinity, called Samgha, is represented by a statue with two arms, of which the one rests on the knee, whilst the other holds a lotus flower.' ^ But besides the metaphysical conception, the Triad is also wor- shipped by the Mahayana in its genuine sense. De Groot relates two forms of it in China* : — ' 1. That which is everlasting, that is to say Buddha, whose image is erected or painted in the Tabernacles ; the Dharma, in the form of writings or rolls ; the Sangha, consisting of monks with their heads shaven, and clothed in rags. ' 2. The second is of another form. It consists (a) of a multitude of Buddhas who have reached supreme wisdom by perfect conduct ; (6) the Dharma formed by the 84,000 dharma-pitakas that have been taught in the twelve schools or sects ; (c) the Sangha of beings who have reached the highest degree of wisdom or perfection, where the three vessels carry them.' As early as in the dialogues of the Buddha in the PaH-canon, we find adherence to Buddhism regularly expressed by the Triratna. When a man has been persuaded by the exposition of the Master, he says : ' I betake myself to the Exalted One as my refuge (or guide), to his Doctrine, and to his Order.' Even to-day, all Buddhist neophytes, in making their vows, have to use the so-called formula of refuge : ' I take my refuge in Buddha, I take my refuge in Dhamma, I take my refuge in Sangha,' that trinity ' A. Lloyd, The Higher Buddhism in the Light of the Nicene Creed, p. 6, Tokyo, 1893, quotes from an esoteric Life of Nichiren a section of it entitled: ' The Proof of the Trinity ' (aam-mei-ittai) : ' That the One is Three is the open (or popular) doctrine, that the Three are One is the sacred (esoteric) doctrine. If you ask for the Three, they are Amida, Kwannon, and Shaka ; if you ask for the One, it is Amida. Thus the Three are One, and One is Three.' ' Eitel, p. 113. ' Code du Mahayana en Chine, pp. 240 sq. 6. Holy Triads: Soderblmn 403 being the safe and peaceful place in this existence of suffering and rebirth in which one can take refuge. And the threefold formula of refuge or protection, the tun-sarana, as it is called in Ceylon, is thought to destroy evil. The best-known rival of the Buddhist Bhikkhus in India, the Jaina order, also has some relation to the triratna. With it is connected a more abstract triad : ' right faith, right understanding, and right living '. The causes giving final deliverance are, however, four ; those three and, as the fourth, austerities (Uttaradhyayana Sutra). But according to A. Weber, Indische Stvdien, xvi. 436, the Jainas should have a tetrad, which corresponds to the Buddhistic triratna, with the difference that the Sangha is divided into two parts, the earlier perfect ones and the actual monks, the siddhas and the sadhus. In fact a current Jain formula of conversion speaks about life ' in conformity with the Dharma, as received in the presence of the Samana, the blessed Maha- vira' ; and the Siddhas of the past are distinguished from the actual monks. But such a four-headed formula does not seem to exist in the Jaina scriptures, at least so far as they are at present accessible. It must not be overlooked that this triad of founded religion, this monotheistic triad in its difference from polytheistic triads, may be studied also in other great foundations of religions : in the Zarathush- trian religion, in Mosaism and Judaism, in Manichaeism, and in Islam. Prof. Usener, in his articles on Dreiheit, has no difficulty in quoting triads in Iran. The later Achaemenians unite Ahura-Mazda, Anahita, and Mithra. Ahura-Mazda, Mithra, and Verethraghna are found together at Antiochos of Commagene. But he does not expect to find triads in the realm of Zarathushtrian revelation, the Avestan religion being nearer to religious monotheism than any of the old religions except Mosaism. Usener writes : ' Amongst the Iranians one must not expect to find trinities in the Avesta.' Nevertheless Professor Albrecht Weber, in an article in Devische Rundschau of 1899, referred to by Usener, attempted to derive from the Avesta a non-polytheistic triad. Weber's article corroborates my view as to the historical difference between polytheistic and non-polytheistic triads. Amongst the latter he counts the Christian Trinity and the Buddhist Triratna. For him the most important question concerning the influence of the Avestan religion on the Biblical religions is ' the possible connexion between the Avestan triad, God, the Doctrine, the Souls of the pious believers (the Fravashis) — as it appears in the unifying of the three most holy prayers of the Avesta, Yatha ahu vairyo, Ashem vohu and Yenhe hatam — and the Christian Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; and the Buddhist triad, Buddha, the Law, and the Congregation, must also be taken into account.' Now, in fact, such a trinity scarcely appears in the Avesta, and its Dd 2 404 IX. Method and Scope of the History of lleligions explanation as meaning God, the Law, the Souls of the holy, is an accurate and fine appreciation of the origin and sense of what I am calhng the historical or religious triad, rather than a genuine rendering of Avestan teaching and formulas. Instead of that, we have to turn to the most valuable document, known as Fravarane, in which the Zarathushtrian professes his religion, from the days of earlier — I do not say earliest or Gathic — Avestan litera- ture down to our own times. In its shorter and original form it contains four articles : Fravarane Mazda-yasno, Zarathushtrish Vidaevo, Ahura-tkaesho ; ' I declare myself a Mazda-worshipper, a Zarathushtrian, an anti-devil (enemy of the devils), a follower (or proclaimer) of Ahura's law.' I shall not enter here into a discussion about the meaning of tkaesho, as to whether it signifies in the first place a teacher of the law or a follower of the law. Practically it does not afiEect the question, and anyhow the two, follower and proclaimer, are indissolubly united in the Avestan conception. Mazda andAhura being two names of the Highest, the first and fourth articles of that creed may be reduced to one. Thus the Fravarane proclaims (I) the worship (liturgical) of Ahura-Mazda, (2) the fellowship of his prophet Zarathushtra, (3) the new, peculiar character of life ; and membership of that worship and that fellowship cannot be more strikingly and precisely condensed than in this word ' anti-devil ', the characteristic of Avestan religion being the strenuous fight for purity against the devils. Its law is Vidaevo-datem, Vendidad, a ' law against the devils '. This devil-fighting law being implied in the latter portion of Ahura- tkaesho, which is the fourth word of the Fravarane, the obedience to Ahura may be considered as a further explanation of the Vidaevo. Anyhow, the three points of the non-polytheistic triad, the Revealer, his revelation (God), and the new life of his followers, are strongly evidenced by the Fravarane, although they have not resulted in a three-headed formula. In the complicated theosophic system of the second great teacher ' sent to the country of Iran ', Mani, the highest tetrad must have had a predominating place, since the Christian formula of abjuration con- tains Tov T£Tpairpoo-o)7rov IlaTepa rov Meyidovs. It may be followed through the Gnostic sects back to the Pythagorean reTpa/cTus. But it seems to have been borrowed by Mani from Zervanite Mazdeism, which possessed, according to Syrian sources, four principles.^ These four — God the Father, the King of the paradise of light (in Zervanism, Zervan, the Eternal Time), Light (sun and moon), Power (the five angels). Wisdom — are interpreted in a way that vaguely recalls the fundamental triad of revealed rehgion ; since the fourth principle ' F. Cumont, Recherches sur le ManicMisme, i. 8, Bruxelles, 1908. 6. Holy Triads: Soderhlom 405 means ' the holy religion ', that is to say, all Manichaeans, the church in its five degrees. In the Old Testament no such formulated creed or confession is to be found. We recognize in the rehgion of Israel strong tendencies to make of Moses' own personality the centre of religion and revelation, in a way, aiming at the place later vindicated by, and given to, Jesus of Nazareth in Christianity. Several reasons can be alleged for the fact that the person of Moses did not become the mediator between Jahveh and his people, in a more personal, and hence more absolute and universal sense. One of these reasons is the glorious hne of creative religious genius, speaking in the name of Jahveh, and known as the prophets of Israel — although Moses is always on a plane above them, not only as the initiator of a religious movement, which they afterwards carried on and developed and modified, according to their individual gifts and historical outlook, but also as a man of God of an essentially higher religious quality than themselves. In no book of the Old Testament does Moses' position as mediator come out so clearly as in Deuteronomy. In no one is the reader the whole time so obsessed by the triad, never fixed in a formula, but ever apparent, of Jahveh, Moses the revealer, and Jahveh's chosen people. The further development of Israel's rehgion into Judaism made a double change in that system. In the first place the person of Moses fell short of the Torah, which had come to be considered as a summary of written law and lore. He was the law-giver, personally secondary in importance to the impersonal divine gift carried by him. At the time of Christ the Torah was the sum and centre of rehgion, at least in Pharisaic circles, and there it occupied the same place as Christ in early Christian communities.^ If we might speak of a ' second article' in the creed of Judaism, it should contain the Torah rather than Moses, or the Torah with Moses. The second modification was brought on by a series of dramatic events experienced by and reacting upon that intimate connexion between personal mysticism and piety and the living history, which is the eternal and unique glory and strength of Mosaism. The eschatological view predominates, God's reahzed reign belongs to the future. The ' third article ' means hope for the fulfil- ment. The Jewish rehgion has never been ofiicially condensed into a creed. But in Jewish hterature there are many attempts to give a short and complete idea of its essence, some of which are collected together in the Jewish Encyclopaedia, s.v. 'Articles of Faith '. The ten command- ments or the great commandment and the golden rule were often proclaimed by the rabbis as the essence of Jewish piety. PhUo's five ' Cf. Bugge, Das Gesetz und Christus im Emngdiwm, Christiania, 1903. 406 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions articles in De Mundi Opificio, Ixi, though they claim to embrace the chief tenets of Mosaism— (1) God is and rules, (2) God is one, (3) the world was created, (4) creation is one, (5) God's providence rules creation — do not indicate the characteristics of founded or revealed religion. More instructive is the passage in Mishna (Sank., xi. 1) which excludes from the world to come the Epicureans and those that deny belief in resurrection or in the divine origin of the Torah. Here it is expressly stated that belief in the Torah, the holy law, as revelation, and in the eschatology, constitutes two of the three most essential points of Jewish faith. The three chief tenets, God-creation, revelation in the law, and eschatology with retribution and Messianic expectation, appear clearly from the order in which the great Saadia ("j" 942 in Sura) treated the doctrines of Judaism : (1) the world is created, (2) God is one and incorporeal, (3) belief in revelation (including the divine origin of tradition), (4) man is called to righteousness and endowed with all necessary qualities of mind and soul to avoid sin, (5) belief in reward and punishment, (6) the soul is created pure, and after death it leaves the body, (7) belief in resurrection, (8) Messianic expec- tation, retribution, and final judgement. The triad of founded religion comes out still more clearly in the four fundamental articles stated by the African rabbi Hananel ben Hushiel about 1000 a.d. — (1) belief in God, (2) belief in prophecy, (3) belief in a future state, (4) belief in the advent of the Messiah — because the close connexion of the two last articles shows that they constitute rather two parts of one and the same article of faith. The best known and the most commonly accepted statement of Jewish faith is due to Maimonides in his ' thirteen articles '. They are not twelve, as the points in the Apostolicum, and their contents too are difEerent, especially in what concerns revelation. Articles 2 and 3, stating the oneness of God, are directed against the Christian Trinity .1 But the general run of thought reveals a real correspondence. After versification, probably by one of Maimonides' pupils, the thirteen articles — Jigdal Elohim, &c. — ^have found a place amongst the morning prayers in the common Jewish prayer-book. They describe God as : (1) living and eternal, (2) one, (3) above all representation, (4) the origin of all, himself without origin, (5) showing in the creation his greatness and kingdom. Articles 6-9 speak about the revelation through the men of God, amongst whom Moses had a unique dignity as the one that had seen God and that was trusted with the Torah, the eternal Truth. Articles 10-13 confess the faith in God's knowledge ' The points 7 and 8 seem to be directed against Islam (Moses is God's nabi, he and no one else) according to a private communication from Prof. G. Klein, the learned rabbi of Stockholm. 6. Holy Triads: Soderhlom 407 of all human actions, in just retribution, in the coming of the Messiah and in resurrection. If there could be any doubt about the triad inherent in that so- called Jewish creed, the Spanish rabbi Joseph Albo (t 1444 a.d.) has reduced the thirteen articles to three fundamental principles : — 1. The existence of God : comprehension of God's unity. His incor- poreaUty, His eternity, and of the fact of His being the object of man's worship. 2. The revelation : comprehension of prophecy, of Moses as supreme authority, of the divine origin and immutabiUty of the Law. 3. The retribution : comprehension of the divine judgement and of resurrection. The historical aspect of Islam and its rehgious structure seems to indicate, as clearly as could be wished, the triad, Allah, Muhammad, Muslimin. But it does not appear in the creed or Kalimah, which states only the two first leading principles : ' There is no deity but AUah, and Muhammad is the prophet of Allah,' because in the genuine Islam neither the personal rehgious experiences of the faithful nor an independent rehgious organization can claim importance enough to be co-ordinated with the revealed God and His revealer. It must also be borne in mind that this KaUmah might be in Muham- madanism relatively older than the triads in Buddhism and in Christianity. In the division of rehgion into faith and practice, the Islamic creed must be placed on the side of practice rather than of faith, practice being by far the more important of the two. As Al Ghazali stated it, ' the law is daily bread for every behever, while the doctrine and dogma is only medicine for the spiritually sick.' In the commonly accepted six articles of Iman (faith) the triad of historical or founded rehgion appears in a way which is characteristic of Islam, and which, in its general structure, comes nearer to Judaism than to Christianity. We put the following points iu pairs : — (l)^The unity of God, (2) the angels ; (3) The holy, inspired books, (4) the prophets ; (5) The day of judgement with the resurrection, (6) the decrees of God, predestination. (It was the vivid conception of God's impending judgement that made Muhammad a prophet.) It is no accident that, in marked resemblance to Jewish ideas, the books should be named before the prophets. A holy book meant to Muhammad the proof of true religion, as it already appears from Sura 96, generally accepted as rendering Muhammad's first revelation. It is not impossible that Muhammad was led from the beginning by dehberate purpose to give to his people a written revelation. Also Jesus was to Muhammad a receiver of a copy of the divine, heavenly 408 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions book, of the Injil, the Gospel. In Sura 19, 31, Jesus says : ' Verily, I am the servant of God. He hath given me the book, and He hath made me a prophet.' The genuine task of the prophet is to receive and communicate the revelation afforded to him from God's holy book in heaven. Amongst the many prophets dogma accords a special place of honour to those trusted with a written revelation. In the development of Islamic religious thought, which, like Christian dogma, was strongly influenced by Greek conceptions, the passionate discussions and the careful formulation concerning the creation or eternity of the Koran occupy a place analogous to the one taken by the person of Christ in the great proceedings that formulated Christian dogma.^ In an Islamic work, written in the seventeenth century, it is said that Ihn ' Son', in the formula : ' In the name of the Father and the Son,' means the Book of God. We have seen that the triad, (1) Eevealer (either man or book, per- sonality or bestower of a doctrine or a law), (2) Eevelation (a super- natural reaUty or an indication to escape and to salvation), (3) its result (a new hfe, a congregation, a great and decisive future), is in- herent in founded or revealed reUgions, implicitly identifiable in their faith and creeds, or expressly fixed in current formulas as in Buddhism and Christianity. My highly esteemed friend, the Dean of Lund, Professor Pehr Eklund, expands the application of this triad to every real religion, ' In all reUgions,' he says, ' there is (1) the conception of a God, or at least of something above us and our world ; (2) the conception of a reality, meeting us in this world of ours, a reality in which the Divine with its power of salvation is to be found in some way, as an object of nature, as a human being or otherwise ; (3) the conception of a Divinely infiuenced and therefore holy manner of behaviour, in contrast with the every day worldly Hfe.' It seems to me, that M. Eklund has put forward in an admirable way the general religious groundwork of the Christian Trinity. He could apply that triad even to a primitive 'religious' state, where the 'three articles ' would be (1) the mysterious power of Ufe, movement, skill, for which the late L. MariQier and others have adopted the Melanesian word mana ; (2) fetishes ; (3) keeping of the tabus. But from an historical point of view, that triad is in a peculiar way characteristic of the founded, non-polytheistic religions. Hence, I do not wish to say that the Christian Trinity has been * Goldziher, in Revue de VHistoire des Religions, xlviii. 265, in opposition to the view held by McDonald and others, states that the Koran was not identified with the Logos, as Christ was identified with the Logos. It is not very flattering either to evangelical or catholic missions when natives in India distinguish them as ' the reUgion of the book' and 'the religion of the mother'. 6. Holy Triads: Soderhlom 409 formed owing to a Buddhistic influence. It is due, on the contrary, to a general law, which in the case of the Christian communities found the material ready and prepared. With the two first entities. Father and Son, this is self-evident. In the case of the third, the Spirit, a group of unsolved problems attach themselves to its appearance in the New Testament, namely, concerning the Paraklete of the fourth gospel. But there should be no hesitation as to the intrinsically necessary addition, out of Oiristian experience, of the Spirit to the other two. In the Old Testament God's Spirit is the source of life and of spiritual power. The prophet is the man of the Spirit, and the chief process of inspiration is called, ' the Spirit of God came upon him.' It must not be forgotten that the expression ' Thy Holy Ghost ' had already been moulded in Greek by the Septuagint (Psalm li. 11). And the Acts show the important part played by Joel ii. 28 in the interpre- tation given by the Christian circles of their own experiences. In later uncanonical Uterature in Palestine the notion of the Holy Spirit was unusual, but not unknown. ' Holy ' means, as Dalman points out, simply God's Spirit. In the formula. Father, Son, and Spirit, Christi- anity expressed itself out of its own resources, obeying the necessity of revealed rehgion. In both the great reUgions the tripartite formula has given rise to speculations which belong to the most earnest and magnificent endea- vours of human thought. In Buddhism any further philosophical interpretation and any further metaphysical development seemed to be excluded by the very distinct and precise metaphysics, implied in the Dhamma itself, as stating the momentaneousness of everything and denying any soul. But the Mahayanistic movement produced a profound modification of early Buddhism, which brought with it also other lines of thought. Thus Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha acquired a quite new and different meaning, belonging to general philosophical inquiry, not to the fact of a community founded by the Buddha through the means of salvation which he had himseK experienced. Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha meant to Mahayana mind, matter, and their union ; or the original intelligence with its reflex and with its practical application. Different schools of thought foimd in the same formula the expression of their different opinions. The atheistic systems placed first of the three, Dhamma, matter or the unconditioned eternal entity, an abstract principle combining in itseK the spiritual and material principles of the universe, emanating from itself Buddha, the creative energy, and with Buddha producing Sangha, i.e. the sum of all actual existence.^ ' I find in a modem Christian apologetic writer the Trinity of Science given as ether, matter, energy. 410 IX. Method and Scope of the Histwy of Religions From China, de Groot relates, besides the representations of the three jewels in their historical forms, a spiritual conception of the Ratna Buddha as signifying the principle of wisdom inherent in every man ; the purity of this principle being the Ratna Dharma, and its appUcation as giving an indulgent and peaceable character being the Ratna Sangha. Thus nature has placed Triratna in every man. Prof, de la Vallee Poussin has not found the metaphysical ratna- traya in any Mahayanistic books. The ' three bodies ' form a different triad. It has resulted in an ontological and cosmical doctrine of (1) the undefined intellect or reality ; and of its individualization as (2) Buddhas or Bodhisattvas, and (3) common people. In Christianity, on the contrary, the invitation to speculative thought lay in the very character of the triad ; that is to say, in the essentially mystical and supernatural tenet of the conceptions and experiences underlying the names Father and Spirit, as well as in the extraordinary reUgious position claimed by the Christ for His own person, and pro- claimed in several ways by the New Testament writers, especially in the witness of the working of the risen Lord. These speculations were carried out with philosophical resources, foreign to bibhcal thought and to founded reUgion. In later times a new speculation has applied to Trinitarian theism phQosophical conceptions which are in some degree nearer akin to the Christian religion ; starting from Lessing, and continued by Schelling and Hegel and the numerous thinkers who have availed themselves in some way of his system. Hence Professor Robert FHnt was right in saying, in 1887, that the thought of a triple character in the Godhead has never, since the doctrinal discussions of Nicaea, been so eagerly examined as in the nineteenth century. But neither the study and appreciation of those metaphysical speculations nor the captivating spectacle of the church of antiquity struggUng in a foreign and heavy armour for monotheism, and for the belief in the living personal divinity of revelation, as well as for its threefold formula, constitutes the purpose of the present paper. Here I have only endeavoured to show what the history of rehgion teaches us concerning the affinities and the distinct character of the non- speculative triad. Father, Son, Spirit.' ' Cf. my treatise, Treenighet. Upsala, 1903. MYTHOLOGISCHE STUDIEN AUS DER NEUEREN ZEIT Von RICHARD M. MEYER. (Gbkuezt) Die ' mythologische Epoche ' ist selbst ein Mythos. Die mytho- logische Produktion dauert noch immer fort. Die Mythologie bewirkt durch eine von keiner Verstandes-Kon- trolle beschrankte Hingabe an machtige Eindriicke. Die folgenden sind die Haupttypen moderner Mythologie : das Kind kennt Verstandeskontrolle noeh nicht, der Fanatiker nicht mehr, der Phantast wirft sie von sich. Allerdings diese neuere Mythologie ist zum Tail mitbedingt durch die friihere. Aber zwischen primarer und secundarer Mythologie besteht kein principieller Unterschied. Auch innerhalb der alten Mythologie ist die Einwirkung friiherer Mythen auf spatere nach- zuweisen. Besonders deutlich ist dies Ineinanderwirken primarer mythenbildender Ursachen mit der Nachahmung in der Mythologie der Kinderstube (Analogie der Kindersprache). Die psychologischen Ursachen der Mythenbildung liegen teils in der Sache, teils in der Form. In der Sache : die unbedingte Hingabe an den Eindruck bringt die ' Ubertreibung ' hervor : massloser Aus- druck der Freude, Begeisterung, Trauer. Mythen von der Unver- wundbarkeit der Heiligen : russische Sektierer. In der Form : wort- liche Auslegung von autoritaren Stellen ; der Kapuziner in der Kin- derwiege, die Skopzen. Diese mythenbildenden Ursachen bilden ausser den Mythen auch Riten. (Robertson Smith und das Verhaltnis zwischen Kult und Mythus ; le culte de la Raison.) Zumeist entstehen Mythus und Ritus gleichzeitig aus der hingebenden Stimmung, die wir, wenn sie reb'gios gefarbt ist, Andacht nennen. Sie steigert sich zur Vision, aus der bei mangelnder KontroUe der Mythus erwachsen kann (Feldmarschall V. Steinmetz), oder zur Verziickung, die als Kulthandlung normahsiert wird ; daher kommt die notwendige tJbereinstimmung so vieler Riten iiber die ganze Welt (das Drehen : wilde Volker, Derwische, Skopzen — Heilsarmee). Ein Beispiel einer solchen Entwickelung aus der Andachtsstimmung zur ' Religion ' ist der Poschhanismus (Mormonenthum). So entstehennoch tagUch Mythologien. Gerade die Nachahmung ist ein wichtiger mythenbildender Faktor, dessen Bedeutung noch nicht geniigend gewiirdigt ist. Die Heihgen : Versenkung in eine gegebene Personhchkeit (Nachfolge Christi, Franziskus). Die Conversion : Ver- senkung in eine gegebene Anschauung (Paulus — Ratisbonne). Die 412 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions- Wunderheilungen : wechselseitige Einwirkung, indem der Heilende sich in den Kranken einfuhlt und dieser sich in den Arzt (Mrs. Eddy, der Prophet Dowie). Aussere Nachahmung ; innere Eindichtung : der Typus des falschen Messias. Ausdehnung der Nachahmung : Gottesgebahrerin ; Nacherleben der ganzen Passion (Chliisten). Stufen der sektiererischenMythologie (deutsche und jiidisch-pohiische Sektierer). Ein anderes Gebiet der modernen Mythenbildung die wissenschaft- liche Mythologie (Swedenborg, Nietzsche). Grenzen des Irrtunas. 1. Meditations-Mythen : Priester und Gott (Ramakrishna). 2. Schopfungsmythen deutscher Gelehrter des xix. Jahrhunderts. Neben der psychologischen Notwendigkeit fortdauernder Mytho- logie ist also die logische zu betonen. 8 DAS VERHALTNIS VON RELIGIONSGESCHICHTE UND RELIGIONS- PSYCHOLOGIE Von a. TITIUS. (Gekukzt) Deb BegrifE der Religionspsychologie steht heute vielfach im Vorder- grunde der Diskussion ; schon der Begriff selbst ist nicht vollig eindeutig. Die Psychologen verstehen darunter nichts als eine Abtei- lung ihrer allgemeinen Psychologie, in der der psychologischen For- schung selbst unschatzbare Beitrage fiir das Studium der Phantasie- vorgange wie der Gemiitsbewegungen zugefiihrt werden. Dagegen ist den Rehgionsforschern die Religionspsychologie ein Ghed in ihrer Forschung selbst, ein integrierender Teil der allgemeinen ReUgions- wissenschaft, etwa in der Mitte stehend zwischen der ReHgions- geschichte und der Religionsphilosophie im engem Sinne, d. h. der Untersuchung des Wertes der religiosen Gedanken und Gefuhle. Dies doppelte Interesse, dem wir in der Rehgionspsychologie begegnen, das Interesse der Psychologen von Fach wie der Historiker, ergibt sich direkt aus der Komplexitat der Aufgabe. Denn Religionspsycho- logie ist eben nichts als Psychologie der Religion, Anwendung ihrer allgemeinen Grundsatze und Methoden auf die Vorgange des rehgiosen Lebens. Der Psycholog kann sich diese Arbeit nicht entgehen lassen, weil sie eine der interessantesten ist an die er sich machen kann ; umgekehrt auch der Historiker nicht anders arbeiten als mit psycho- logischen Methoden, weil er nur in dem Masse, als es ihm gelingt seinen StofE zu durchdringen und psychologisch verstandlich zu machen, seine Aufgabe als gelost betrachten kann. Das nie zu erreichende 8. Religionsgeschichte und -psychologic: Titius 413 Ideal aller Religionsgeschichte wird es eben bleiben, die meist so unver- standlichen Brauche und Institutionen, die krausen und verwunder- lichen Gedanken, auf die die Forschung so oft trifft, zu deuten, gleichsam die ganze Geschichte in Psychologic aufzulosen. Das ZusammentrefEen des psychologischen Interesses mit dem historischen kann hier wie anderwarts nur dazu fiihren, dass gegenseitige Correktur eintritt, alte Vorurteile und veraltete Methoden beseitigt werden. Es ist hier nicht am Platze zu untersuchen, welche Riickwirkung die Beschaftigung der Psychologen mit der Rehgion auf die Berichti- gung ihrer Begriffe und Methoden haben muss, — an einigen Haupt- punkten wird das ohnehin deutlich werden, — sondern ich frage nur, welche Methoden die moderne Psychologic der religionsgeschichtlichen Forschung darbietet. Nun sagte ich bereits, dass die Religions- psychologic in der allgemeinen Rehgionswissenschaft in der Mitte steht zwischen Religionsgeschichte und Religionsphilosophie. Hat es letztere mit der Greltung der Religion zu thun, mit ihrer Wahrheit im allgemeinsten Sinne, so steht mit ihr die ReUgionspsychologie im engsten Zusammenhange, sofem sie durch Analyse und Synthese die wesentHchen und eigenartigen Momente des reUgiosen Vorganges in ungetriibter Klarheit und ohne alle Beimischung zu ermitteln sucht. Jeder philosophisch Gebildete aber weiss, wie eng die Ermittlung von Wesen und Wahrheit einer Erscheinung zusammenzuhangen pflegt, indem schon das erforderUche Abstraktionsverfahren, wodurch wir das WesentUche einer Erscheinung heraussteUen, durch eine VorsteUung von ihrer innem Natiirlichkeit und Wahrheit geleitet wird. Man wird nun in dem, was die moderne Psychologic fiir die Analyse der Rehgion und ihres wesentlichen Gehaltes beizutragen vermag, zwei Hauptgesichtspunkte unterscheiden konnen. Einmal wird es darauf ankommen, das Wesenthche des rehgiosen Erlebnisses selbst, jenen eigenartigen Faktor der die Religion zur Religion macht, aufzudenken und die typischen Formen, die das religiose Leben annehmen kann, zu gruppieren und darzusteUen. Andrerseits wird der Zusammenhang der religiosen Vorstellungen und ihres Geltungsanspruchs mit jenem eigenartigen Erleben zu untersuchen sein. Ergeben sich diese beiden Aufgaben der Religionspsychologie in ihrem Verhaltnis zur ReHgions- philosophie, so sind sie doch auch fiir die Religionsgeschichte von fundamentaler Bedeutung, sofem die Gnmdanschauung, die der Forscher vom Wesen der Religion und von dem Verhaltnis des intel- lektuellen Faktors in ihr zum Grunderlebnis selbst (oder zu den verschiedenen Formen, in denen sich das religiose Erlebnis etwa schon urspriinglich difierenziert) gewonnen hat, fiir die Auswahl die er aus der imiibersehbaren Fiille von Einzelbeobachtungen zu treffen hat, um das Typische wie das Charakteristische in das rechte Licht zu stellen, entscheidend sein wird. Damit lost sich ein Problem, das sich 414 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions bei dem Religionsliistoriker immer wieder einstellt. Auf der einen Seite ist es mit Recht verpont, in der religionsgeschichtlichen Arbeit absolute Urteile auszusprechen, von einer bestimmten Glaubensiiber- zeugung aus alle andern zu meistern ; andrerseits ist es unmoglich, wahrhaft fruchtbar, ja iiberhaupt nach wissenschaftlicher Methode religionsgeschichtlich zu arbeiten, wenn es nicht eriaubt sein soil, Unterschiede im Werte und in der Hohenlage der einzelnen religiosen Erscheinungen zu statuieren. Durch die psychologische Analyse des Wesens der Religion und ihrer Hauptformen wird dieser Gegensatz, wenn auch nicht vollig aufgehoben, so docii gemildert, weil in ihr bereits der Versuch einer objektiven und vorurteilslosen Durchdringung des rein prinzipiellen, apriorischen Urteils mit dem Bestande der psychischen und gescbiclitlichen Thatsachen vorUegt, ein Versuch selbstverstand- lich, der stets emeuter ControUe an der Empiric zu unterwerfen ist, weil er immer nur einen approximativen, einen Naherungswert repra- sentiert. Ein prinzipielles Urteil kann nur in subjektiver Form gegeben werden ; trotzdem konnen wir bei wissenschaftlicher Arbeit auf prinzipielle Urteile nicht verzichten ; und die Rehgionspsycho- logie — darin besteht ihre Bedeutung — ist der methodische Versuch, eine vom bloss Subjektiven gereinigte prinzipielle Methode herzustellen, die uns ermoglicht aus religiosen Handlungen, Institutionen, Vorstel- lungen das innere Leben, aus dem sie entstehen, verstandlich zu machen. Den bisher genannten Aufgaben der Religionspsychologie tritt eine weitere zur Seite, die sich unmittelbar aus ihrem Verhaltnis zur Religionsgeschichte ergibt. Die Religion hat, wie alle Erzeugnisse des Geistes, ihre soziologische Seite als Sache einer bestimmten G«meinschaft und ist eben damit (wie aus anderen Griinden) eine historische Grosse. Ohne Zweifel ist es Aufgabe der ReUgionspsycho- logie, neben der aufquellenden Frische und Urspriinghchkeit der primaren rehgiosen Erlebnisse auch jene Oontinuitat der Rehgion als geschichtlicher Grosse zu beachten, welche aus ihrer Gemeinschaftsform und ihrer Fortpflanzung in der Gemeinschaft sich ergibt, und die psychologisohen Massstabe und Gesetze dafiir festzustellen. Hier ergibt sich der Psychologic neben der Aufgabe, das Wesen der Religion und ihre bleibenden Typen verstandlich zu machen, die weitere, die geschichtliche Entwicklung der Rehgionen, welche aus ihrer Ver- gleichung sich uns als unzweifelhafte Thatsache aufdrangt, verstand- lich zu machen. Es bedarf kaum der Hervorhebung, dass auch diese wie jede psychologische Synthese ihre pkQosophische, d. h. prinzipielle und axiomatische, Seite hat, wobei ein Auseinandergehen auch der wissenschaftlichen Urteile vorbehalten bleiben muss. Es ergibt sich das schon daraus, dass die Construktion der religiosen Entwicklung das Wesen des religiosen Grundverhaltnisses und die Bekanntschaft mit seinen Typen voraussetzt, alles, wie wir sahen, Erkenntnisse, die ohne prinzipielles Urteil nicht zu gewinnen sind. Am deutUchsten 8. Religionsgeschichte und -psychologic: Titius 415 aber tritt der prinzipielle Ciharakter der psychologischen Analyse der religiosen Entwicklung dort hervor, wo es sich um die Beurteilung der Anfange der Religion handelt, dort wo die historischen Instanzen entweder ganz versagen oder an sich mehrdeutig sind. An drei Stellen kann mithin die fundamentale Bedeutung der psychologischen Methode fiir die vergleichende Religionsgeschichte konstatiert werden : 1. Hat sie die Eigenart des religiosen Erlebnisses sowie seiner Haupttypen in Gefiihlsbewegung, Willens- und Denkakten heraus- zuarbeiten und damit dem Geschichtsforscher eine (stets vorlaufige) Leitidee bei seiner Analyse der uniibersehbaren Fiille von Thatsachen zu bieten, die ihn unterstiitzt, die wichtigen Thatsachen nicht zu iibersehen und richtig zu gruppieren. Stosst er aber auf Thatsachen, die sich der leitenden Idee nicht fiigen woUen, so ergeben sich von hier aus wichtige Winke fiir eine Modifikation der psychologischen Theorie, womit eine bedeutsame Vertiefung der vorhandenen Er- kenntnis sich vollzieht. Hierin ist bereits enthalten, aber bei der besondem Wichtigkeit fiir sich herauszuheben : 2. Das Verhaltnis der rehgiosen Grundthatsache, des primaren religiosen Erlebnisses zu den rehgiosen Lehren, die mit dem Anspruch auf Geltung als Erkenntnis der objektiven Wirkhchkeit auftreten ; es ist deutUch, dass die psychologische Theorie iiber die Bedeutung des inteUektuellen Faktors, die ein Forscher befolgt, fiir seine gesamte Ausnutzung der QueUen und fiir den Aufbau der Rehgion, die er erforscht, von entscheidender Bedeutung sein wird ; auch hier ist natiirlich der FaU vorbehalten, dass gegeniiber dem vorhandenen sichem Material die Theorie versagt und einer Erganzung oder Be- richtigung bedarf . 3. Hat die psychologische Theorie iiber den Ablauf und die Ent- wicklung der psychischen Phanomene Anwendung zu finden auf die Erkenntnis des natiirUchen Verlaufs der rehgiosen BUdungen, und hat in Synthese mit der positiven Kenntnis der religiosen Anschauungen und Lebensformen eine wahrhafte Vergleichung der verschiedenen Formen in ihren EntwicMungsstudien und damit schhesshch eine Einghederung der einzelnen Rehgionen in den Gesamtverlauf der rehgiosen Entwicklimg, ja letzthch der gesamten geistig-geschicht- lichen Entwicklung der Menschheit zu voUziehen. Die genannten drei Hauptgesichtspunkte, unter denen sich eine Anwendung der psychologischen Methode auf die Rehgionsgeschichte als erforderUch ergibt, lassen sich des Nahern erlautern und in ihrer ganzen Fruchtbarkeit vorfiihren an drei bedeutenden Werken der Religionspsychologie, auf die der Vortragende des Nahern eingeht, an James' Varieties of Religious Experience, Maier's Psychologie des emotionulen Denkens, und Wundt's Psychologie des Mythvs und der Religion. 416 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Beligiom 9 ON SOME RECENT MOVEMENTS IN PHILOSOPHY CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION By clement C. J. WEBB The mutual relations between the higher religions of the world and the philosophical tendencies and systems which arise among the nations professing those religions form an important part of their history. On the one hand the form of these systems and the direction of these tendencies are always to some extent and sometimes largely determined by the character of the religions prevalent in the circles from which they spring ; on the other hand the doctrine and practice of the rehgions themselves are continually being affected, directly or indirectly, by the criticism of philosophy. Moreover, there is perhaps no better test of a general philosophical position than an inquiry into its bearing on the problems of reUgion. The reason for this is not far to seek. In his rehgion a man expresses his view, or the view in which he is prepared to acquiesce, of the ultimate reality and of his own, relation thereto. An inconsistency between a philosophical position and the facts of experience may therefore be expected to come to light most readily and convincingly when we consider rehgious experience, because in this sphere it will be most difficult ahke for the philosopher and the ' plain man ' to tolerate such an inconsistency. The philosopher cannot in his religion, which is nothing if not the expression of his attitude to what is ultimately real, lay aside his speculations on that very subject with the same complacency or imconsciousness which he may show in passing (to recall a celebrated saying of Hume) from his study to his dinner, his game of backgammon, or the conversation of his friends. The ' plain man ', on the other hand, cares little what philosophy, which seems to him something quite remote from the affairs of workaday hfe, may say about those affairs, in carrying on which he feels himself in no need of her guidance ; but, if either philosophy or religion are concerned with anything real and important at all, they must, he thinks, be concerned with the same sort of things. Hence, it is natural that philosophy should be regarded by the mass of men either as an apology or as a substitute for religion. If philosophy and religion disagree, one or the other, he thinks, must give way. This conviction, although | the consequences to which it sometimes leads may be unfortunate alike from the point of view 9. Recent Movements in Philosophy: Webb 417 of science and from that of religion, yet has a truth at its heart. This truth is that which was stated above : that a philosophy is specially bound to justify itself to the reUgious consciousness, which may be described as the ordinary consciousness of the ultimate nature and significance of life and of the world. I propose to limit myself in this paper to dealing with certain philosophical movements of recent times, in the special form in which they have manifested themselves in the University of Oxford, and often without reference to the influences from the world without, apart from which these movements would not have originated or developed themselves in this University. There can be few seats of learning in which so much attention is paid to philosophy by teachers and by students as in the University of Oxford ; but few also in which there is proportionately so small an output of philosophical hterature. The very number of our students of philosophy, combined with the requirements of our characteristic tutorial system, has much to do with this phenomenon. But, the fact being so, it may be not un- interesting to some members of this Congress, which Oxford so gladly welcomes this year, to know something of the state of philosophical opinion among us, concerning which -probably few outside our own borders possess much information. The philosophical controversy which above all others now occupies the forefront of our discussions, is that between Idealism and Realism. By Idealism in this connexion I mean any view which places the reahty of what we commonly call external things in the apprehen- sion of them by a mind or consciousness, whether particular or universal, human or divine ; by Reahsm any view which ascribes to things, other than a knowing or perceiving mind or consciousness, a being independent of apprehension by such a knowing or perceiving mind or consciousness. For a number of years Ideahsm has been decidedly in the ascendant among us at Oxford. The special form in which it first acquired this ascendency was that given to it in the teaching of Thomas Hill Green of BaUiol College, whose influence was, twenty to twenty-five years ago, the strongest in our philosophical schooL This is not the place in which to enter upon an appreciation of the work of this remarkable man, much of which was, owing to his premature death, first put before the world only after he had ceased to live and could not ampUfy or explain what was left obscure or undeveloped in his writings. My paper will be concerned rather with certain later forms of Ideahsm^ namely Personal Idealism and Pragmatism, two alhed but by no means identical types of opinion. But I shall, before dealing with these, call attention to certain features of Green's speculation, which impressed themselves upon the teaching of this University and so became the point of departure for later developments. In doing this, c.B. II E e 418 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions however, I would guard myseK against being understood to suggest that the impression of which I speak did justice in all respects to Green's own thought, even as it can be gathered from a careful study of his published work. It was Green's main contention that the British empirical school, to which, in spite of mutual divergences, the English thinkers most influential when he began to write — Mill, Spencer, Huxley — ^aU alike belonged, and which beheved itself to be carrying on the work of Locke and Hume, had in fact never learned Hume's lesson. For, had they done so, they would never have beheved that a sensationahst philosophy, which Hume had shown once for all to be destructive of the possibility of any science whatsoever, could render any support to the natural sciences, whose interests these thinkers had so much at heart. A mind which is no more than a succession of mutually independent sensations, a world in which only what is given in sensation can rank as fact, is not a mind which can know, a world which can be known, as the scientific man knows, as the world with which he deals is known. Relations, such as that of cause and effect, cannot be treated by natural science as something added by the mind to the facts ; they enter into the constitution of the ' facts ' ; yet they are undoubtedly, as Hume had shown, not given as sensations. Thus Green claimed for the mind that it is more than a passive sensibility, that it involves principles of synthesis, whereby it constitutes out of sensations an experience, and eventually a science, of nature. But not only did Green thus assert that in the consciousness of nature, which in its full development becomes science of nature, there is implied a ' spiritual principle ' which cannot be explained as a mere part of the nature of which it is conscious ; he went on to contend further that as ' relations ' are the essence of nature, and they, in the language of Locke (which he accepted) are 'the work of the mind ', nature itself depends upon a ' spiritual principle ' such as we find involved in our knowledge of nature. And he used language which suggested that the existence of nature depended upon a mind to which it was related as the known to the knower, that its esse was not indeed, as Berkeley had held, percipi but certainly intdlegi. Yet Green made it plain that the mind to which nature was thus related was not any individual mind or the sum of individual minds. You or I find nature there, before we, as individuals, come to know it. But it is. Green holds, inexplicable except as the object of a ' self -distinguishing consciousness ', and so of an ' eternal conscious- ness ' or divine mind, whereof individual minds are ' vehicles ', and wherein are eternally realized all the capacities gradually realized in time by human minds— a mind which is eternally aU that the human spirit is capable of becoming. 9. Recent Movements in Philosophy: Webb 419 Now to turn from Green to the newer views of whicli I set out to speak. Pragmatism may be considered from one point of view as an extreme Idealism. That constitutive power which Green seems to ascribe to the eternal or divine mind is transferred to finite human minds, which are now said to make, rather than to know or recognize truth. It is not uninteresting to observe that in the historical deriva- tion of modern or subjective Ideahsm from the very different Ideahsm of antiquity, there was one stage in which language, originally used of Mind at its highest, was interpreted as an account of the psychology of a 'personal ' and 'transcendent ' God ; and another in which what was thus said of the divine mind was extended to the human. The history of the word Idea itself illustrates this process ; for it passed from its Platonic sense to its Lockean through a sense, which may conveniently be called Augustinian, in which it was used to denote the eternal designs in the mind of God, in accordance with which He created the things in the visible world. In its later psychological meaning, the word is simply extended from the psychology of God to the psychology of man. In like manner, with Pragmatism the creation of truth has ceased to be a prerogative of the divine, it has become an attribute of the finite human mind. This has probably given much encourage- ment to the reaction from aU Idealism which has taken place in this University and elsewhere, although this reaction is in its origin an independent, if complementary, movement of thought. For when the difficult conception of truth as dependent on the finite knower, as ' made ' by him for his own purposes, is brought forward, the question naturally suggests itself whether even the older language which asserted the dependence of the object upon an eternal consciousness of it, is really tenable ; whether, on the other hand, the presupposition of knowledge as such is not the independence of its object. Pragmatism originally appeared at Oxford in aUiance with another type of philosophical opinion, which may conveniently be called by a name used for their joint work by a number of essayists, one of whom was the most conspicuous of EngHsh pragmatists, the name of Personal Idealism. But the two tendencies called Pragmatism and Personal Ideahsm are not really at one. They are united in rejecting the conception of an absolute experience, inclusive of the experience of finite individuals, whether in the form of Green's ' eternal con- sciousness ' or in that of the ' Absolute ' of Mr. Herbert Bradley, ■the most influential of Oxford philosophical thinkers since Green. But they reject this conception on different grounds. The stress of Personal Ideahsm is laid on the ultimate and absolute independence and value of the finite person. God can be conceived only as another -Bnite person, even if He be the creator of the rest. The phrases which speak of union with Him, hfe in Him, and so forth, can only bear a E e 2 420 IX. Method and Scope of the Histm-y of Religions metaphorical significance. The criticism which shows all other forms of existence to be in their nature relative to one another and to a consciousness for which they may be objects, while confirmed else- where, is held to be inapphcable to conscious mind. The impenetra- bility of individual finite personality is thus the keynote of Personal IdeaUsm ; it claims to secure to religion the personality of God and of man, both of which Absolute Idealism had seemed to threaten ; and, in criticizing Green, it presses the undeniable obscurity of his state- ments with regard to the relation of the 'eternal consciousness' to its temporally conditioned ' vehicles ' against the whole conception of a mind inclusive of other minds. The standpoint of Pragmatism is essentially different. For Pragmatism the ' static ' or permanent personaKty of you or me is an interpretation of a number of successive self-afBrmations, which has no more than a tentative and provisional value. The ' Absolute ' is rejected not because the notion of a mind inclusive of other minds is in itself inadmissible; the most celebrated champion of Pragmatism, Professor James, has no fear of speculations as to a common ' reservoir of consciousness ' which may be ' tapped * by all dwellers on the same planet. The ' Absolute ' is rejected by Pragmatism merely because it is absolute. There can be no Absolute in a world where all experience is essentially in flux and incomplete. I turn now to the inquiry how far the idealistic tendency, which we see so differently exhibited in Green and in the two schools of opinion which I have just described, which preserve the idealistic side of his teaching while rejecting certain of its elements, is in harmony with rehgious experience. Within the limits prescribed to me, I can only very shortly indicate the difficulties which seem to encounter it when we pass into that sphere. The idealistic position that the very existence of what is appre- hended may He in the apprehension of it, appears in its most plausible form when we have in view sensible material objects : especially when we regard these not as parts of the world studied by the natural sciences, but rather as things entering into our practical daily life. Here nothing seems gained by supposing them to have any existence over and above their being perceived, for any such further existence could neither itself be perceived nor make any difference to the percep- tions which we have. As I have said, the Berkeleian idealism is less in harmony with the attitude of natural science toward material thmgs than with that of ordinary unscientific experience ; and there is observable even in Berkeley himself a tendency to take a view of natural science as merely subsidiary to the purposes of practical daily life, not unhke that taken by the ' pragmatist ' of to-day. But we may at any rate say that, although in the language which we commonly use of the perception of material objects we certainly 9. Recent Movements in Philosophy: Webb 421 seem to imply that the existence of what is perceived is independent of its perception by us, and, if we thought it were not so, we should more naturally speak of ' imagination ' than of ' perception ', yet we certainly attribute the predominant role in the commerce of per- ception to the perceiver and not to the thing perceived. The case is, however, very different when we pass from the perception of material objects by means of the senses to knowledge by one person of another, not of his external form merely, but of his mind and character. Here, as we have seen, the Personal Idealists — and in this they follow Berkeley — abandon the notion that the existence of the object appre- hended can he in its being apprehended. No doubt there is possible a measure of knowledge of a person, in which the object is as indifferent to the observation of him by another person as a table or a stone would be ; but we should readily allow that such knowledge as is possible imder these circumstances would fall very far short of what we should generally mean by knowing a person or being acquainted with him. That would certainly seem to imply a reciprocal know- ledge or acquaintance on the part of the person known. Here the knower and the known are, so to speak, on a level. The being of the thing known cannot be thought of as exhausted in being known, for it must also know. But, when we pass from the knowledge by one person of another to the knowledge of God, which we call religion, we find that it is the instinct of the religious man — and that most obviously on the highest levels of rehgion — to ascribe the preponderant part in the intercourse involved in this kind of knowledge to the object of his knowledge, that is to God. He cannot suppose that he can know God without, still less against, the will of God ; he is sure that he is himself, from the beginning, wholly known to God, even though he himself knew it not ; when St. Paul speaks of others having known God, he adds at once in correction ' or rather are known of Him '. Here we more naturally speak not of ' perception ' or ' discovery ' (as where the subject is the predominant partner); nor even of ' acquain- tance ' (as where the subject and object stand on the same level), but of ' revelation ' ; it is God, who is known, that in this knowledge reveals Himself; He it is that is active throughout; the activity which we attribute to ourselves in the matter we recognize as due to the opera- tion or grace of God Himself. To this form of experience the ideaUstic attitude which takes the object, at least primarily, for no more than an object, for something in respect to which we could be content with denial or even with doubt of its independence upon the subject's activity of apprehension, would manifestly be inadequate. Nor would this be less true, I take it, with those forms of higher religion in which the object of religion is not described as a ' personal God '. There also the reality and substantiality will belong not to the 422 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions individual subject of religious knowledge, but to the eternal object to which the individual's religious knowledge is itself to be referred— ' I am the hymn the Brahmin sings.' Personal Idealism, while it stops short at individual persons in its application of the principle that esse is percipi, will not any the more for that be able to accommodate itself to religion, if, as seems to me to be beyond question, our know- ledge of the divine must always be thought of as the activity of the divine itseH in us. The attitude of Pragmatism will be no more easy to reconcile with the needs of religion. The gods, to quote an incidental remark of Aristotle, are placed in a ridiculous light if they be regarded as referred to us, as means to our ends. It is not indeed to be denied that there is a close connexion between Pragmatism and some of the most influential theological and religious thought of our day. But it seems to be true that the success of such a tendency in the sphere of religion is merely relative to a special situation. A great service is done to the philosophy of religion when it is pointed out that a religious proposition cannot be treated as taking its place side by side with the propositions which are found in a treatise of natural science or of history. Areligious dogma can no more be understood from without, apart from participation in the peculiar type of experience which gives it meaning, than can an aesthetic judgement. Anyone, musical or unmusical, can fuUy understand what is meant by the statement that Beethoven was born in 1770, but the statement that he was a great composer can mean no more to an unmusical person than that many other people so esteem him. It means something far difEerent where musical admiration is present in the man who utters it. The like is true of religious dogmas. The schools of theology which have pointed this out, which have claimed for religious dogmas that they are to be regarded as ' judgements of value ', have rightly used the language of Pragmatism. They have said, ' What do you want from religion 2 Surely not historical or scientific information.' But this association of Pragmatism with a fruitful line of theological thought is not sufficient to enable it to give a satisfactory form to religious conviction. The question why religious dogma naturally assumes a form of expression more like that appropriate to a scientific assertion than that which we use in our moral and aesthetic judgements still demands an answer. The strength of the scholasticism against which the schools of religioug thought to which I have referred have raised an important protest, always lay and still lies in its stress upon the independent nature of the object of knowledge. But I am far from supposing that the new realistic tendency which has lately been showing itself in philosophy, and is the natural counter- poise of the pragmatist exaggeration of idealism, will itself without difficulty stand the test of application to the problems of religion. 9. Recent Movements in Philosophy: Wehb 423 As it has appeared in Oxford, this tendency retains that side of the philosophy of Green which allows the mind to apprehend real universals ; but it abandons the language which suggests that these universals are ' the work of the mind ' that knows them. It returns to the position of the ancients, who recognized a voryrov an intelligibile, of which vovs is cognizant in vo'iyo-is, no less than a sensibile, an alcrdijTov, of which the sensitive faculty is cognizant in ato-Oijo-i^ ; the former being no more than the latter to be regarded as a psychical fact rather than as an independent reaUty. For the very same reason that, as we saw above, it was possible to regard sensible material objects from an idealistic point of view, to hold that their esse is percipi, because it is hard to say what we want of them beside what we perceive or what we gain from the supposition that they exist independently of our perception ; it is also possible to regard them from the apparently opposite point of view of an abstract realism. What difference, we may ask, does it make to the chair or the stone whether any one perceives it or no? But there are aspects even of material things in which this attitude is less easy of adoption. I do not now refer to the so-called secondary quaUties of material bodies, colours, scent and so forth, which physico-mathe- matical science itself does not regard as belonging to matter indepen- dently of its relation to a sensitive organism. I am thinking rather of the beauty of material things. Even here in our common way of speaking, and in spite of the obvious considerations which point to the subjectivity of beauty, we incline to speak of the flower which ' blushes unseen ' as wasting its beauty rather than as not beautiful ; and where the appreciation of beauty is most profound, in the great poet or artist, the less is there likely to be acquiescence in a view which regards the beauty as lying in the sense that apprehends it, the greater the disposition to think of it as the manifestation or revelation of an independent reality. Yet the poet or artist would not readily say, ' What difference does it make to the beauty of nature whether it be recognized or no ? ' Just because he regards its recognition as a revelation, he regards it as something which would miss its mark, were it unrecognized ; he thinks of it as spirit, which to reaHze itself must pass beyond itseM, communicate itself. And plainly we think in this way of persons. Without the society of their fellows, without being known, understood, loved, they cannot reaUze themselves at all. Again, if we think of genius, on the one hand no doubt we feel that Shakespeare is not a great poet because he is admired ; that if his works were lost, they would not be less excellent : yet we feel also that it is hard to understand what we should mean by a great poet who waked no feelings of admiration. We do not think of our admiration of a poet as something accidental to his genius in the 424 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions same way as our happening to see a certain mountain seems to be accidental to the mountain. And when here again we come to religion, while we cannot think that God is God because of our worship, yet a God unworshipped, a God who cannot or does not reveal Himself would be something less than we mean by God. If it is intolerable to the religious man to think that his God can be the creature of his own worship, the shadow of his own desire, it is equally so to think that his worship is nothing to God, or indeed, that it is less than (as we saw from the other side it must be regarded as being) the activity of God Himself in him. The highest thought of Grod must be that of an essentially self -communicative being ; the highest thought of religion that of something not accidental but essential to the nature of that in which the religious man, so far as he is rehgious, finds himself to ' live and move and have his being ' and knows that his own religious life is nothing less than the divine life in him. It would no doubt be possible to hold that the object of religious knowledge was not independent or indifferent to knowledge in the same way as other objects of knowledge ; just as ' personal idealists ' do not apply their idealistic criticism to persons. But I have all along been concerned rather with the tendencies of certain ways of thinking than with the opinions of any particular thinkers, and I have tried to show that, when brought to the test proposed at the beginning of my paper, neither a one-sided Ideahsm nor a one-sided Realism wiU be found adequate to the demands of religion upon a general philosophical position. This consideration may well make one cautious when taking sides in such a controversy as has broken out between the exaggerated idealism of Pragmatism and the new Realism with which it is confronted. 10 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE CONCEPTION OF GOD By ALFRED E. GARVIE. (Abstract) Many views are held regarding the origin of religion. It is not the intention of this paper to discuss any of these in detail ; but after a brief statement of some of the opinions held, to discover, if possible, the method of inquiry to be pursued, and by application of that method, when found, to fix as accurately as can be what may, with some degree of probability, be regarded as the beginning of religious thought. 10. Development of the Conception of God : Garde 425 • I. Fetishism, Animism, Spiritism, Naturism, Totemism, have all been advocated as the form of religion of ' primitive man '. It is evident that when such differences of opinion in explaining the origin of religion exist, it is necessary for us not so much to discuss whether this or that theory is the more plausible, but whether the method of inquiry has been determined with sufficient care ; in the hope that the right method may not only put an end to this confusion, but assign to each of these forms of the religious consciousness, regarded as primitive, its proper place in the development. 11. The method of inquiry should be threefold. (1) It may seem an unwarranted assumption that the savage of to-day represents primitive man, since he too has evolved, though his evolution has been retro- grade and not progressive. Nevertheless characteristic features of the religion of the savage do survive in the superstitions of the civUized man, and justify the conclusion that the savage has preserved forms of religious thought and life common to the race at its beginning. (2) As the child physically recapitulates the history of the race, so he may be assumed to do also mentally, morally, and religiously. The study of the development of the child may be used by us to retrace the steps of the evolution of the race. Emotion, Imagination, Intellect, Conscience, appear as successive stages in that development ; and this is the order in which we may expect these to be prominent in the evolution of religion in mankind. (3) As, however, the child develops in a rational, moral, and religious environment, is quickened in his growth by it, and borrows much from it, he cannot, without qualifica- tion be regarded as exactly similar to the primitive man. Hence the adult religious consciousness, which can see in the child's develop- ment a meaning hidden from the child himself, must subject itself to a process of self -analysis, to resolve its complex features into the simplest elements conceivable. It is to be hoped that by a combina- tion, of these methods, each applied with its necessary limitations, and each supplementing and, where necessary, correcting the others, •we may be able to restore the religious consciousness in its earliest phases. III. The belief in nature as animated is probably earlier than the belief in spirits ; as the child is aware of himself living before he has any conception of ' self ' or soul as distinct from body. The ' selective interest ' would fix the attention on some parts of the living whole rather than on others, and so things would be recognized as separate, and desired or dreaded, as pleasure or pain was connected with them. When the sense of self was gained — ^the development of this was probably assisted by the experience in dreams of the separation of soul and body — ^then only arose the belief in spirits dwelling in and moving things in the world around, and animalism gave place to animism. The rela- 426 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions tion of these spirits to things might be conceived in two different ways. Fetishism conceived the spirit as taking up its abode in the object, and so necessarily confined to that, that its activities could not be detached therefrom. In fetishism, as it now survives, the object selected is usually some trifle which has been invested casually with significance ; it is, therefore, to be regarded as a bypath, and not on the main road of development. Spiritism conceives the spirit as con- trolling the object, without being necessarily confined to it. As this term may, however, suggest ancestor- worship, it is perhaps better to call this phase of religious thought daemonism. As there is no con- ception of the unity of nature, but an impression of the multiplicity of things, the spirits are many, and this stage of religious development may be described as polydaemonism. As power is the distinctive attribute which is assigned to the spirits, we must ask how that power is conceived. While it may seem an anachronism to assign to primitive man the distinction of natural and supernatural, yet it is probable that his curiosity was more challenged by what occurred suddenly or seldom, and therefore more awakened his surprise and wonder, and that in the unusual he was more ready to recognize the activity of spirits. Likely, too, it is that as he dis- covered what he could and what he could not do, he came to think of the spirits as stronger than himself. Magic originally may not have been a substitute for religion, or an attempt to get power over the spirits so as to compel them to do man's will, but an experiment to do what a man believed himself to be quite capable of doing before he found out the limits of his power. But this discovery led him to seek friendly alliance with the more powerful spirits by prayer and sacrifice. As the distinction of soul and body was slowly acquired^ so was the difference of animal and human. Before polydaemonism became anthropomorphic it was therianthropic ; the spirits were repre- sented in animal as well as in human forms. In the Egyptian religion we can follow the change step by step. Totemism probably belongs to this stage ; it is not primitive, nor is there proof that it was universal. As it implies some power of generalization and the sense of tribal unity, it presupposes a considerable mental and social development. As on the one hand the family became conscious of itself as a separate unity within the tribe, and as on the other hand man distinguished himself more thoroughly from the animal, ancestor-warship may be supposed to have appeared. As the spirits were conceived as human, and the greatness of these powers was more realized, pdydaemcmism became polytheism. The worship of a tribal deity, whether totem or not, introduced a crude monotheism ; but the combination of tribes in nations led either to fusion of the tribal deities, syncretism, or to a national pantheon, in which 'the predominant partner' in the 10. Development of the Conception of God : Garvie 427 alliance secured a supremacy for his tribal deity, as Marduk in Babylon, Ashur in Assyria. Two other tendencies to monotheism are to be noted ; henotheism, the concentration of the piety of the worshipper on one object more or less permanently, and paw^Aeiam, the conception of the world and the gods as a necessary unity due to speculation. The belief and worship of the tribal deity of the Hebrew nation alone developed into an ' ethical monotheism ', now common to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The issue of the future seems to be between the pantheistic and monotheistic conception of the divine unity. 11 THE RELATION OF COMPARATIVE RELIGION TO THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS By LOUIS H. JORDAN. (Abstract) The natural result of employing different methods in the study of religion has been the gradual development, within the Science of BeUgion, of a series of distinct depaxtments, bearing such names as The History of ReUgions, The Psychology of Religion, Comparative JRehgion, and so on. At the outset, these various methods of research were called into service contemporaneously. Nay, more : they were employed by the same investigators. The scholar who collected the facts of reUgion proceeded, as he found opportunity, to compare those facts one with another. But this exacting task has not usually been achieved with any large measure of success. As a consequence, the various departments of the Science of ReUgion have tended, more and more, to drift asunder. Each has become ambitious to pursue its own particular quest, and to enlist the guidance of trained workers who would be in a position to devote to it their undivided strength. Touching the relation of Comparative ReUgion to the History of ReUgions, there are two main theories that hold the field to-day. 1. The older view — ^and, for the present, the predominant view — is that Comparative ReUgion is plainly subordinate to the History of ReUgions. For, it is aUeged, all the material with which Comparative ReUgion busies itself is derived from the History of ReUgions. AH its prominent representatives are obtained from the same soiu:ce. In a, word, Comparative ReUgion would never have been heard of, were 428 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions- it not for that other department of inquiry from which now it aspires to be separated. 2. The second school of opinion is constituted by those who hold that Comparative ReUgion stands upon a platform of perfect equality with its older and stronger colleague. It maintains that the History of Rehgions — ^although it appeared first in the order of time, and although the fundamental character of its work must ensure its out- standing prominence — ^has certainly no warrant to claim unquestioned pre-eminence. That is to say, priority of advent and control does not suffice to create a monopoly. By those who accept the former of these theories, Comparative Religion is regarded as a mere adjvmct to the History of Religions. Thus, in various colleges and universities, it has been taught in con- nexion with Church History or with Oriental Literature or with Oriental Philosophy or with the Philosophy of Religion, &c., &c. In Theological Colleges, it is usually dealt with to-day under the head of Apologetics — a procedure which, while commendable ia certain respects, is open to serious objection. The diversity of sentiment which exists touching the special subject to which Comparative Rehgion ought to be annexed, and the practical difficulties which have arisen in connexion with every such experiment, have led many to conclude that Comparative ReHgion may fairly be recognized and developed as a separate academic discipline. It was quite natural and legitimate that, for a time. Comparative Religion should have been studied as a by-product of the History of Rehgions. But this relationship — convenient, happy, and even essential, at the outset — ought not to be unduly prolonged. It would seem better that these two domains of inquiry should now be deUberately separated. Such a step, moreover, is not only reasonable, but timely. Compara- tive Rehgion has begun to organize a special equipment of its own. It can point already to a small band of competent and devoted workers. It has made a beginning, Ukewise, in the direction of providing for students a special and distinctive Uterature. The time for initiating and promoting definitely constructive work in the field of Comparative Rehgion has at length fully arrived. 1. A more definite connotation must be given to the name ' Com- parative ReUgion '. At the present moment, the descriptive phrase ' Comparative Rehgion ' is constantly used in a most vague and general way. Not only does the dilettante student employ the words with a characteristi- cally careless abandon; but, in the absence of a dehberate discrimination between contiguous spheres of inquiry, even reputable scholars are almost equally to blame. No general agreement has yet been reached touching the boundary lines respectively of the History of Religions 11. Comparative Religion: Jordan . 429 and Comparative Eeligioh. Accordingly, some authorities of the first rank frequently use the titles as if they were synonymous : other authorities of equal standing set the two disciplines apart, but fail to assign to each exactly the same constituents. A brief definition of Comparative Religion, accepted and adhered to by all responsible teachers, would do much to differentiate two departments of research, each of which is answerable for an express and distinctive task. The frequent employment of the title ' The Comparative History of Rehgions ' shows that, in all countries, the domain of the History of Religions has already been overstepped. That science which has to do with the products of the application of the comparative method to the verified facts of religion is surely old enough already to claim a sphere of its own. Be that as it may, the present fluidity of meaning commonly associated with the designation ' Comparative Religion ' is most confusing : this babel of diverse tongues ought to cease. On the other hand, the department of the History of Religions, standing by itself, is no longer adequate : the employment of the factor of comparison, already widely in use, must now be ofi&cially provided for- 2. The too rapid popularizing of the study of religion emphasizes the necessity that the History of Rehgions and Comparative Rehgion should in future be dealt with separately. When students of rehgion first entered upon this quest, their con- clusions were communicated for the most part to the members of learned societies. By and by, a few of the more ambitious leaders ventured formally to pubhsh the results they had severally reached. Perhaps it was' better that these portly and unattractive tomes did not secure many readers : for their contents were often incomplete, inexact, and misleading. But the persistent inquiry went on. More worthy treatises superseded these earher ones, imperfect records were in due course revised and amphfied, and errors were gradually eUmi- nated. Thus the world has come into possession of its numerous standard Histories of Rehgion, in which each Faith is expounded by various competent interpreters, and in harmony with the requirements of the highest type of scholarship. But, within the last few years, the study of rehgion has entered upon an entirely new phase : for the printing press has been invoked to awaken a distinctly popular interest in the subject. One can pur- chase now in London an exposition of any of the rehgions of the world, even though written by an authority of outstanding eminence, for the trifling cost of a shiUing. The same method has been followed by pubUshers in Germany, as is illustrated by the well-known series, the Religicmsgeschichtliche Volksbucher. What has been the result ? As the outcome of this new campaign on the part of the press, the leading facts concerning all the great world-religions have now been 430 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions scattered broadcast. And, as is most natural, everybody is now com- paring these facts. Persons who are wholly unburdened by the disci- pline and enlightenment of collecting the material in question, who possess no special qualification for sifting it, who — ^in some cases at least — ^have utterly failed to understand it, are nevertheless the most conspicuous students of Comparative Religion to-day. In view of the deliberate effort now being made to popularize the History of Religions, and of the disastrous results which this project has even already effected in the outlook of Comparative Religion, the latter department of research ought to be placed without delay under the supervision of competent and responsible persons. This plea is made, not in the interests of any alleged vested rights, but with the view of stemming abuses which have become perilously rife of late. 3. The modern demand for speciaHzation suggests that the spheres of the History of Rehgions and Comparative Religion should be more sharply distinguished. It is often said that the historian of reUgion is the man best equipped for deahng with the problems of Comparative ReUgion, seeing that he has aU the necessary facts at his finger-ends. But this statement errs greatly in the way of exaggeration. The material awaiting the his- torian's examination is still multiplying much more rapidly than it is being disposed of. The historian's work, in truth, seems much less near its completion now than it was five years ago ! Suppose, however, that the historian of religion were able to keep fully abreast of his own Hne of investigation, what guarantee is fur- nished that Comparative Rehgion shall receive at his hands that consideration which plainly is due to it ? The valid comparison of the Faiths of mankind — ^not through drawing attention to their super- ficial features of Ukeness or unlikeness, but as executed in a far deeper and more penetrative way — ^is not a task which every scholar is com- petent to attempt. Comparison, in so far as the historian is concerned, is a mere incident, a detail, a side issue. With the student of Com- parative Rehgion, on the other hand, it is his one and supreme business. It happens to be, moreover, an undertaking of extreme difl&culty and subtlety, calling for skilled and careful treatment. Accordingly, it is at last coming to be recognized that the equipment of a leader in Comparative Rehgion needs to be materially different from that demanded of an expert in the History of Rehgions. He must possess, indeed, the same endowments of comprehensive know- ledge, cathohcity of temper, exhaustless patience, and dauntless courage ; but he must also be highly proficient in the use of the com- parative method. And dexterity of this sort can be acquired only by careful training under competent masters. In the hands of scholars thus fitted for their work, Comparative Rehgion would soon become 11. Comparative Religion: Jordan 431 a highly specialized branch of human knowledge : it would quickly demonstrate its right to occupy a distinct field of its own : and it would indicate clearly the boundaries which separate it from those other sciences with which it is now so frequently confounded. As regards the provision of facilities- for the proper training of men who aspire to devote themselves to the tasks of Comparative EeUgion, three expedients have been adopted. Some have thought that the establishment of one or more professorships, in a number of selected universities, sufl&ciently met the needs of the case. This course has been widely followed, and with excellent results : but, in the great majority of cases, the Chairs thus created have been assigned to the History of Religions, and Comparative Religion has been practically ignored. As time has passed, a second expedient has greatly increased in favour, viz. the inauguration of a separate University ' Department ', within which a group of professors judiciously subdivide among them- selves the leading branches of inquiry proper to the critical study of religion. In the United States this procedure has been initiated in quite a number of instances : but it is attended with considerable cost, and it is not likely to be generally adopted. A third expedient remains to be mentioned ; and to it express attention wiU be drawn in the closing paragraphs of this paper. Instead of iacreasing the number of single Chairs in selected universities, why not seek to establish — ^in each of the world's capitals — a central and weU-endowed institution, in which the work of scientific research in rehgion (iu all its departments) could be prosecuted in a thoroughly scholarly manner ? A corps of specialists — say ten or fifteen, devoting themselves (with genuine ardour and without dogmatic restraint) to the solution of all questions affecting in any way the development of the world's religions — could then give their whole time and thought to the advancement of this single Une of inquiry. In such an institu- tion. Comparative Religion would not fail to receive a duly propor- tionate measure of attention. Moreover, all work of this character, now being attempted in a necessarily intermittent and casual sort of way, would quickly become systematized, consolidated, and rendered more than doubly productive. Such a central School of Religion would dupUcate no college at present in existence. On the contrary, it would occupy towards exist- ing professorships, lectureships, and departments, the relation which Comparative Rehgion properly holds to the History of Rehgions : it would carry contemporary investigations a step fiu:ther forward. With a fuUness of equipment for its special work which no purely local college could even pretend to rival, with a reference hbrary and museum as complete as money could make them, it would indeed be a College of Speciahsts ; and it would discharge a further function in its training 432 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions of additional specialists. Attended by a small number of picked graduate students — ^not necessarily or mainly theological students, but men whose alertness and openness of mind had singled them out for this distinction — the school would devote its whole strength to the, furtherance of original research. If but one such institution could be estabhshed and thoroughly equipped, it would not long stand alone. A sort of Clearing House for all the imiversities, fuller and more fruitful inquiry could be undertaken — and at considerably less outlay — ^than if twice its staff of professors were distributed at different points. All especially difficult problems could be investigated by it, multifarious facts (touching the whole range of the field) authoritatively interpreted, a reliable Bureau of Information estabhshed, and an official Journal (besides other occa- sional periodicals) skilfully edited and published. All recent inteUigence concerning the progress of the Science of ReUgion — ^in all its branches, and in all lands — could be promptly registered, and as promptly made known : and, as a consequence, the greatest present drawback affect- ing students in this field would disappear, viz. the lack of easy co- operation. In particular, the interrelated ' Departments ' of the Science of ReUgion would gradually become differentiated, their respective hmits being confidently and sharply defined. But the cost ! Is not the scheme, however admirable, hopelessly Utopian 2 By no means. The item of cost has never permanently blocked the advance of any really essential project. And a special school for the study of religion is essential. It is not enough that facilities for the training of students in Comparative Rehgion should exist in various quarters. These forces must be made visible : they must be combined : they must be effectively marshalled. Nay, more : they must be magnified as well as multipHed : they must be made so prominent that many who to-day are Tiot thinking of making Comparative ReUgion their life work wiU nevertheless be attracted and secured. This comprehensive proposal can be supported by an effective array of arguments. Its advocates are quite aware, however, that good causes are won, not entirely upon their merits, but depend very largely for their success upon the earnestness, energy, and patience of those who beUeve in them, and who are determined to compass their ultimate attainment. 12 COMPARATIVE RELIGION AND SOCIOLOGY By L. T. HOBHOUSE The rise of Comparative Religion as a distinct science does not involve its isolation as a new specialism from all other branches of learning. On the contrary, its separation from Dogmatics opens the way to a fruitful union with other inquiries into social phenomena. Regarded in the light of historical and comparative science, Religion is a sociological function. That is to say, the religious conceptions of any nation at any period stand in vital relation to other elements of social life. The comparative study of religion goes together with that of jurisprudence, of ethics, of politics, and of economics, to make up the whole body of truth which forms the subject-matter of Socio- logy. The necessary economy of thought compels each inquirer to mark out his own portion of the field. Yet, if he would do his work thoroughly, he must never forget that the division which he makes corresponds to no absolute fissure in the scheme of things. The religious life of a community does not grow, mature, or decay in isolation. If it did it would stand condemned for its futility by the religious consciousness itseM. But in reality, whether for good or for evil, it stands in intimate relation on the one hand with the science and philosophy, the literature and art, on the other with the legal, political, and economic structure of its time. The relation is, of course, of varying kinds. At one point it is intimate and direct, at another it is more subtle and circuitous. But on the whole the vital functions of society form a consensus so bound together by innumerable lines of permeating influence that no single organ could be gravely affected without setting up a derangement which would be felt to the furthest limits. In such relationships as these it is seldom possible to distinguish accurately between cause and effect. The influence is reciprocal, and it is seldom possible to say with precision which department takes the lead. The religion of a people wiQ often provide the framework for its recognized ethical conceptions, and through ethics will affect its law and government, and the whole body of custom written or unwritten which governs public and private life. At the same time the religious creed is itself affected by the whole outlook upon the world. It incorporates the prevailing conceptions of the order of nature and the purposes of life. Not only is its development con- ditioned by the level of clearness and consistency reached by thought C.H. II F f 434 IX. Method and Scope of the Histm-y of Religions in relation to the physical order, but it takes its tone no less from the ethical elements to which in all its highest forms it seeks to give coherent meaning. We can judge the ethical development of a people by its conception of the spiritual world at least as well as by considering its working code of custom. In the resentful ghost of certain forms of animism, we may fairly see a reflection of the spirit of the blood- feud, just as in the impartial judgement of Osiris we may recognize the impersonal tribunal of public justice, and in the hecatombs of costly sacrifice to appease the angry deity the religious analogue of the corruptibility of the judge. The workings of human justice and the idea of the divine move on parallel lines. The reciprocal action is clearest in the very cases which might be expected to provide an exception. Every one is familiar with the modifications which a higher religion must undergo to accommodate itself to a relatively, backward race — ^how a saint will be found to take over the functions of a god, how magical forms persist in a mystical interpretation, how conversely metaphysical theories receive mythical expression, and how the desires of an individual, a party, or a nation, search the Scriptures for a text to justify them. As long as a religion is far removed from the working life of a people, there is a condition of unstable equilibrium, and the balance must be restored, whether by the education of the people or the practical modification of its creed. Much that appears as religious deterioration in history must be ascribed to this cause. It is not a sign of true retrogression, but is comparable to the descent of a thin column of water which, as it is accomplished, raises the level in a wider basin. The pure and intense religion of a tiny group loses much of its meaning as it spreads through the world, but yet brings the world as a whole a point nearer to its own level.i The work of the sociologist, then, in relation to comparative rehgion is to study the reciprocal actions of religion and the rest of social life. The developments to which it stands closest are those of science and philosophy on the one hand, and those of ethics on the other. The relation to ethics is of peculiar interest, since it is here that the social function of religion is most apparent. It is the business of Sociology, then, to trace the ethical bearings of the main forms of '■ The history of the mediaeval Church is the locus dassicus for this sort of interaction. It is well to remember that, taken as a whole, the story often tells both ways. Thus, as the representative of a more civihzed tradition, the Church first opposed the barbaric ordeals. Then for a period it sanctioned them, but finally, especially in the thirteenth century, took a leading part in the revival of a higher justice which suppressed them. The relation of the Churches to slavery and the slave trade, both in mediaeval and modern times, presents interesting analogies. 12. Comparative Religion and Sodology : Hothouse 435 religious thought with the same ' positivity ' and detachment with which comparative religion traces the growth of religion itself. Now the ethics of a people is by no means wholly dependent on its religion. At times the relation is very close. At others the two lines of movement seem to fall far apart. It is nowhere more difficult to formulate with precision than in the lowest forms of society. Here we find definite rules of conduct handed on by tradition and enforced by custom. Now at a low grade of reflection there is little room for doubting that at bottom custom is held sacred because it is custom. It is that which is handed on by tradition and forms the mould into which each new mind is cast as it grows up. Thus, while for society it is custom, for the individual it has something of the force of habit and more than habit. It has the strength of a mass or cluster of connected ideas, feelings, and modes of action. Such a mass once built up or built into the mind has a force and permanence of its own apart from any reasons that may be given for it, and this psychological foundation always underlies old custom. But the psychological weight behind a rule is wont to express itself in some conscious shape. And this in two ways. In the first place, there is in the breach of a rule so incorporated in our minds a feeling of uneasiness and unrest rising to acute anguish and remorse. Con- versely there is a sense of satisfaction in acting along the accustomed lines. I do not suggest that this is the whole account of the origin and nature of remorse, I only say that it is one of the elements to be taken into account. It is not the whole; for departure from the well-worn ways of the mind remains painful and unrestful even if reason or conscience from some higher point of view ordain it. But it is to be taken into account ; for the feeling of a breach within ourselves is attendant upon conscious wrong-doing all along the line. It is the great conservative force in the psychology of mankind which permanently resists deterioration, though on occasion, in times of transition, it is also resistant to higher points of view. So far the permanent elements of feeling in connexion with the breach of custom. But observe that this feeling entering in turn into the intercourse of men engenders a tradition, or at lowest, is at hand ready to receive and give its own colour to tradition arising from other sources. In a word, men, generally speaking, have their own theory about the basis of custom, and in terms of this theory the permanent element of feeling expresses itself. Men are not content to act and feel, but they render to themselves some account of the reason for their actions. They have a theory of custom, and in the different forms which this theory takes are expressed the views which at different grades of development are taken of the meaning and purpose of conduct. rf 2 436 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions In the lowest stages of thought we find two forms of such theory. Krst of all we find rules of conduct resting very frequently on magical conceptions. Property, for example, is frequently secured by taboo, the violation of which will bring disease, death or other misfortune upon the transgressor. The boundary stone, as in ancient Babylon, is impregnated as it were with a curse which will fall automatically on him who moves it. The authority of a parent is fortified by the power of the parental curse, and even the unwitting Oedipus suffers in Hades all that the Erinnyes of a mother accomplish. The curse of the beggar or stranger helps to secure regard for those who are unprotected by the rules of the blood-feud. The oath automatically punishes the perjurer and so forth. In all these cases there is an influence set in motion by the transgression that returns, by a mechani- cal fatality as it were, upon the head of the transgressor. At best it may be averted by specific magical prescriptions. Evil influences may be brushed or washed away. They may be removed by incanta- tions, or the guilt which incurred them may be cancelled by a ceremonial formula repudiating the transgression. But in some of these cases the evil influence is of a specific kind. The man-slayer, for example, is haunted by the ghost of his victim, and it is the ghost which follows him to the camp,^ and has to be driven away before others will consort with him. The danger does not necessarily depend upon the moral character of the homicide's act. It may have been perfectly justifiable in accordance with the custom of the community, but will none the less arouse the resentment of the ghost, who naturally cannot be expected to take an impartial view of the proceeding. Hence the man who has lawfully avenged his kinsman may have to undergo a purification, just as the instru- ment which he has used or the clothes which he has worn.^ We are touching here on the second of the two forms in which the lowest ethical consciousness conceives the consequences of action. An act, that is, may awake the resentment of a spirit who wiU punish it to the extent of his power. The ghost of a neglected wife may haunt a man. The spirit of a father may avenge those breaches of family life which the father himself would have punished in his lifetime. The creditor who cannot get paid may starve himself at the debtor's door with a view to the vengeance which his ghost will afterwards take. Here then is a sanction for conduct which may be called supernatural, or as connecting itself with the primitive theory of spirits, animistic. But it is not a very discriminating one, since it depends not on the justice of the case but on the power of the injured spirit. ' Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes of Central Australia, pp. 493-506, and Batchelor, The Ainu of Japan, p. 221. " Frazer, Golden Bough, i. 339, 340, &c. 12. Comparative Religion and Sociology : Hothouse 437 This much, indeed, seems to be common to the animistic and the magical ways of regarding conduct at least in their lowest stages. The spirit acts as a revengeful being, the curse or taboo as a mechanical agency. Both retaliate on a man without regard to the motive or intention, and both may be set in motion by legitimate and even by unavoidable acts — such as contact with the dead — as well as by •breaches of custom. Thus, as a theory of the grounds of conduct, they have the minimum of ethical value. They form a suitable framework for the blood-feud, with its limited circle of moral con- ceptions and its disregard of personal responsibility, and as such we frequently find them functioning. A higher stage of religion is reached when the spirit of animism is replaced by the anthropomorphic god, whether of polytheism or of some more exclusive national religion. We are not here tracing religious development on its own account, and must not, therefore, enter into the steps of this transition. We are concerned only with the ethical side of the matter. Now ethically we know that the character of anthropomorphic gods often leaves much to be desired. But among them, and perhaps at the head of them, we often find a Zeus or an Osiris, acting as a protector of the moral law as a whole, and perhaps as a judge of men in the after life. Whether in associa- tion with such a god, or as an independent development from magico- animistic conceptions we sometimes find a spirit especially appointed to preside over certain departments of conduct. It may, like the Homeric Eriimys be a development of the primitive curse which has now become a terrible goddess, herself wielding the curse and implanting it in the minds of men. It may be the personified abstraction of the virtue itself, like the Roman Fides, Pudor, or Concordia. It may be an independent deity, or it may sink into an attribute of some greater deity. It may even be both at once. Thus Faith is an attribute of Jupiter who as Deus Fidius protects the oath, and Faith also has her own temple near by that of the god to whom she ministers. These ambiguous identifications are characteristic of the indefinite phase of thought with which we are dealing. But ethically the essential point is to distinguish between the revengeful spirit and the just God, and again between the magical ef&cacy of the curse and the retribution executed by a spirit which exists to incarnate the sanctity of a specific social relation. A corresponding development may be seen in con- ceptions of the future life. In the least ethical form of the doctrine the fortunes of the soul after death depend perhaps upon its rank in Hfe, perhaps on the manner of the death, above all, on the funeral rites and on the diligence of descendants in supplying gifts of food. In its higher stage the future life becomes the scene of a judgement. Great offenders are cast into Tartarus. The Egyptian soul appears 438 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions before Osiris in the Halls of Double Maati and purges itself by solemn denials of the forty-two deadly sins. There is justice and an impartial judge of the soul, comparable to the justice which is arising or has arisen in human courts. The anthropomorphic gods are not perfect. Like human chiefs, they are too often open to influence by a consideration. Costly hecatombs appease them, sometimes they demand a human sacrifice. They may be hoodwinked and possibly even constrained by magic, and it is a great step in advance to an ethical religion when God demands mercy and not sacrifice, when the only method of securing His favour is to act according to His word. A just God dispensing reward and punishment in accordance with His perfect knowledge of the heart is the highest point of this line of ethical development. It is indeed in this conception of a sanction for moral rules that popular thought finds the permanent nexus between morality and religion. Yet it is a conception satisfactory neither to ethics nor to religion. Any reflective moral code demands a motive free from pru- dential considerations. Any spiritual religion demands a closer and more human relation to the divine than that of subject to sovereign, or of prisoner to judge. The higher growths of religion have, in fact, a far more complex relationship to ethics. It is perhap^ impossible to speak in general terms of developments so diverse as the higher forms of Brahmanism, Buddhism, Judaism, Mohammedanism, and Christianity. But two points occur which seem to mark these out generically from the more naive creeds. They turn on a more developed conception of the spiritual order, and in connexion therewith they teach a form of ethical idealism in which certain features are common to doctrines otherwise highly divergent. (1) In the lowest form of animism the spiritual is imperfectly distinguished from the material. In the gods of Olympus or in the national deities of the early Semites the divine personality is merely the human writ large. In the higher religions there is an effort in the utmost variety of form to conceive what the spiritual truly is, regarded as a category of unique import. Take, for example, the definition of the Upanishads : 'The intelligent, whose body is Spirit, ... He is myself, within the heart ; smaller than a corn of rice, smaller than a corn of barley, smaller than a mustard-seed, smaller than a canary-seed or the kernel of a canary-seed. He also is myself within the heart, greater than the earth, greater than the sky, greater than heaven, greater than aU these worlds. He from whom all works, all desires, all sweet odours and tastes proceed, who embraces all this, who never speaks, and who IS never surprised, he, myself within the heart, is that Brahman.' (Upamshads, i, p. 48, E.T.). The definition is mystical. It asserts the ultimate identity of the human and the divine, the conception from which mysticism starts 12. Comparative Religion and Sociology : Hothouse 439 and to which it returns. As mysticism it is only one of the forms in which the higher religious thought expresses itself. But the passage contains a doctrine lying deeper than mysticism, and of more universal significance. It teaches in the quaint language of a dawning thought the antithesis between the spiritual and the physical, and the finding of the spiritual in the contemplative yet creative Mind which every man knows as the innermost self ' within the heart ' — ^the Grod within my breast Almighty, ever present Deity, Life that in me has rest As I, undying hfe, have power in thee. Any one who turns from a description of the anthropomorphic gods to such a passage as that quoted above is conscious of passing to a new phase of thought to a point, as some metaphysicians might put it, where Mind has become conscious of itseK, and where at least the meaning of the spiritual order underlying the ordinary world of sense has been fully seized. On this plane the higher religions move. This is equally true whether they express themselves in the mystical identification of the individual and the universe, or conceive the Infinite Mind as creating and sustaining a world of finite beings whom it endows with an independent existence, or even if they find the kernel of the ethico-religious life in a sense of the unreality of seK and the impermanence of individual being. Such differences go far, yet I would suggest that they do not destroy the fundamental root of religious idealism — the conception of a deeper truth, reached by cutting through the crust of ordinary experience, teaching man that he has a defined place in a spiritual order. (2) This conception has important ethical consequences. The spiritual order is a whole or a harmony, and the relation between its elements is what we experience as Love. All the qualities that belong to Love and serve it are therefore exalted as spiritual, while aU others belong to the outer husk which merely hinders men from the true life. Conversely selfhood, all that isolates the individual and shuts him up within his own personality, is the barrier which it is the work of religion to break down. Man must abate his passions, overcome his arrogance, rid himself of the very wiU to live before he can enter into the kingdom of the spirit. Both sides of the doc- trine are expressed in their extreme form in the Buddhist teaching, which relies on the final impermanence or unsubstantiality of the individual self, and finds the cause of suffering in the desire that maintains individual life and causes its renewal. By the annihila- tion of these elements of individualism men can here, within the limits of this existence, attain the conditions of the Arhat. Nega- tively, this condition is one of freedom from illusion and selfish emotion. 440 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions Positively, it is one of a perfect all-pervading love, which experiences the oneness of the liberated soul with all that lives and feels. 'And he lets his mind pervade one quarter of the world with thoughts of love, and so the second, and so the third, and so the fourth. And thus the whole wide world above, below, around, and everywhere does he continue to pervade with heart of love, far-reaching, grown great, and beyond measure. Just, Vasettha, as a mighty trumpeter maketh himself heard — ^and that without diflBculty — ^in all the four directions ; even so of aU things that have shape or life there is not one that he passes by or leaves aside, but regards them all with mind set free and deep-felt love.'^ Christianity, which is at the opposite pole from Buddhism in its doctrine of the self, is close to it in its view of selfhood. He who win save his life must lose it. Pride is the deadliest sin, Love the supreme virtue, and not only the supreme virtue, but the very expres- sion of the divine nature. It would not, I think, be difficult — ^though it would take too much space on this occasion — ^to trace these principles throughout the details of the ethical codes that have grown up under the aegis of the great religions. It is easy, for example, to recognize in the condemnation of selfhood the root of asceticism,^ and to see that the more the negative side of this principle is accentuated, the more value will be attached to every proof of the utter indifference of the saint to all the ordinary objects of desire, without regard to its effect on his relations to other men. It is not difficult to see that a contempt for mundane existence may be extended to the affairs of others as well as to our own, and that withdrawal from the world, rather than the attempt to regenerate the world, may be the practical conclusion drawn from the exaltation of another mode of existence. Again, it is quite intelligible that a doctrine of universal love should be held incompatible with those intense but narrower affections of which most of us are alone capable, and that instead of being treated as elements in a higher order, they should be held in contempt if not in actual reprobation as pertaining to the flesh. It is not surprising that where all the outer life is held cheap, comparatively little should be said of the social organization, that, saving conscience, passive obedience to the powers that be should at times be recommended as a duty, that with much stress on duties very little should be said about human rights, and that in a word, the socially fundamental virtue of justice should occupy but a small space. It is one thing to conceive a spiritual order, and another thing to find the elements ' Buddhist Suttas, Sacred Boohs of the East, vol. xi, p. 201. ' At least of the higher asceticism. The cult of pain has at least two other psychological sources— the idealization of fortitude, which is the basis of heroism, and a kind of inverted sensualism, which is the basis of cruelty. 12. Comparative Religion and Sociology: Hohhouse 441 of the spiritual life in the social relations of men, in human love and political equity and social co-operation. Nor is it surprising that in becoming a State religion, Christian doctrine has to put off its immortality by methods of exegesis in which its distinctive spirit evaporates.^ As a State deity the God of love becomes once again the God of battles, and the change is symboHc of the whole process of accommodation whereby a rehgion founded not on a philosophy of social relations, but on the antithesis between the spirit and the world, adjusts itself to the task of legislation and govenmient. There is, however, another form of idealism which addresses itself more directly to practical problems and plays an important part in any general view of the relation between religion and ethics. The -attempt has been made more than once in the world's history to work out the higher ethical conceptions on a basis independent of religion, and to seek the ideal of conduct through the practical experience of life. Thus the great teachers of China, faced with an immature rehgion and confronted with the practical difficulties and the moral problems of administration, found guidance and inspiration in an ideal of personal lite and pubUc order. The first principle of any such ethical idealism is independence of aU extraneous considerations. The good life is good not as a means but as an end. Thus the Confucian sage requires no rewards : ' With coarse rice to eat, with water to drink, and my bended arm for a pillow, I still have joy in the midst of these things.' For the individual his rectitude is a higher con- sideration than happiness or hfe. ' He who loved virtue would esteem nothing above it,' and the consciousness of , virtue as the gift of heaven — on this side Confucius allows a rehgious reference — ^places a man above all ordinary prudential considerations. ' Heaven has produced the virtue that is in me. Hwan-T'uy, what can he do to me ? ' But virtue is not an end alone, it is also a means to the social order. All rules of conduct may be summed up in the general principle of reciprocity. ' What you do not want done to yourself do not do to others.' The function of the sage is to learn and to teach. He is to guide the prince who is to order society well, principally by setting a good example himself. The people are by nature disposed to virtue. ' If you, sir, were not covetous,' is the reply to the prince who complained of the number of thieves, ' although you should reward them to do it, they would not steal.' The people should be led with gentleness and not oppressed by taxation nor coerced with heavy punishments. The traditional customs are good and are to be maintained, but those who practise them merely because they are customs are the thieves of virtue. Moral philosophy does not proclaim ' Of. Deoretum Gratiani, Cor'pus luris, pp. 896, 936, 939, &c., and the Fathers there cited. 442 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions a new code but interprets the traditions as rules of justice, filial obedience, mutual aid, compassion and benevolence. The divergences of ethical theory are as numerous as those of religion, but here again, the few examples that I have drawn from a single thinker may suffice to suggest a certain common ground. We recognize with ease some of the distinctive conceptions of ethical idealism. We recognize the self-dependence of morality as something grounded not on religious dogma, but upon the requirements of man in society. We recognize the interpretation of morality in terms of social duty, the emphasis on justice, and the tendency to reach the goal of universahsm by another road. The fundamental conception of a rationahstic ethics is, I suppose, that rational grounds of conduct are to be found in the nature of man and society as revealed in ex- perience. Hence, in the first place, the tendency to treat morality as natural rather than as supernatural, as educed from the very constitution of the personality so far as that personality attains its normal development, rather than implanted in it by divine grace. Hence, further, the stress on the common human nature, which leads as a logical consequence to the universality of the elementary obliga- tions, and hence, ultimately, the necessity for an ideal standard whereby social customs and State law may be freely criticized. Hence, equally, a preference for ideals of self-mastery and self-development over those of seH-negation. Such conceptions as these group themselves naturally around the central idea of the human personality as the spring of the moral law. On the other hand, the sphere of conduct is the social sphere. The relations of the individual to society come into the focus of interest. The problem of self-sacrifice is restated in terms of social duty, the ordering of social relations becomes an ethical problem in which rights have a place co-ordinate with duties, and in which the last word is spoken by ideal justice as a principle of social organization — not by benevolence or self -negation as ideals of personal perfection. Such elements as these are prominent among the contributions of independent ethical thinking to the development of the Social Purpose. In large measure they coincide with the higher ethics of rehgion, and the coincidence is, of course, attributable not merely to the convergence of different lines of advance, but equally to the effect of complex historical interactions. One of the most im- portant chapters in the study of comparative religion, a chapter which has still, in the main, to be written, is the study of that interaction. Something has been done by historians towards determining the influence of Greek ethical thought on Christian teaching, and the relation of Christian to modern ethics has necessarily occupied atten- tion, though from the nature of the case it raises questions that are difficult to treat in the impartial spirit of scientific history. The 12. Comparative Religion and Sociology : Hothouse 443 determination of the historic function of religion in social life must depend mainly on the progress of investigation in this department. What is the permanent relation of religion to ethics, is a question which must depend partly on the definition of religion, nor could it be discussed here without carrying us beyond the terms of our reference. But looking at the modern developments of religion itself, perhaps it would not be too much to say, that at present, what may broadly be called the ethical element, tends to take the primary place in the interests of men. What religion has to say about life, how far it can inspire or guide the efforts of men, how far it can purify and regenerate the social organization, are the questions which men now ask of its professors. Here there appears to be a certain inversion of the old relations between ethics and theology. Formerly dogma occupied the first place and ethical teaching followed as a corollary. At that stage no one hesitated to correct an ethical judgement by a rehgious text. In the thought of our own day, the relation, if I am right, is very nearly reversed, and religion itself is weighed in the balance of the ethical judgement. To prove an incompatibihty between a religious creed and the higher demands of human justice, would, I think, be to destroy not the morality but the religion. It does not, of course, follow that ethics is independent of any rehgion whatever, or that the ethical and religious spirit are fundamentally separate. Both the history of their development and the final unity of sociological factors are opposed to any such conclusion. It may even be that the religious life is at bottom the ethical, understood in its widest and deepest meaning. All that is necessarily involved in the primacy of ethics is that there is a rational principle of action verifiable in human experience, and that conduct should in the last resort be determined, and social relations regulated, by this principle and no other. If there be such a principle it must, to provide a coherent end of action, be social in character, and it is in fact by its social implica- tions that conduct comes to be tested. To define the social end is not necessary here. The laws of conduct and the relations of men are held to be subservient to some purpose for the sake of which society exists — a Social Purpose as it may be shortly called — and ethically the same test wiU apply to the practical teachings of rehgion as to any other rule of conduct. If this rough statement be allowed to pass as a provisional account of the relation of religion to ethics in the modern world, and if, which again is open to dispute, this relation is deeply rooted in the modern mind, we are brought, as we look back over the different phases of the relation, to some results necessarily provisional in character, yet of no small interest to Sociology. We have been following in rough 444 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Religions outline a process whereby the full social implications of conduct come more and more clearly into consciousness as containing in themselves the fuU rational justification for moral preferences. In the lower stages of intelligence the account given of customary rules is that their breach is attended by some mysterious misfortune, or awakes the resentment of an injured spirit. In such a theory we can indeed trace the workings of a moral element, but we cannot say that morality has arrived at any conscious expression. A higher stage is reached where reward and punishment are impartially awarded by a just God. Here the Deity is clothed with moral attributes, but the basis of conduct is still something external and unethical. Religious ideaUsm seeks a more intimate union. It reconstitutes the ethical code on the basis of greatly heightened spiritual requirements, and finds its value more in the personal life which it renders possible, than in the mechanical sanctions of retribution. Yet it still finds the ultimate meaning of ethics in the sphere of the divine rather than the human, a relation which independent ethical inquiry tends to reverse. Thus the full consciousness of ethical meanings arises by successive steps in which the relation to religion is at every point the pivot on which the movement turns. I have spoken here only of the account which men give to them- selves of the basis of conduct, but I believe it to be possible to show that the content of the ethical judgement, that is to say, the standard of conduct, has on the whole passed through a parallel development in which once more the relation of the religious to the ethical factor is over and over again of critical importance. The total result of this development is the growth of what has been briefly referred to as the Social Purpose. The process by which this purpose comes to maturity is, I think, the central object of study for the sociologist. At all stages of its development human thought is swayed by larger forces than those of which it is aware. The conception of good and evil which it forms are related by countless invisible strands of connexion with underlying conditions of physical and social existence. As we look back on any stage and analyse the meanings and implications of custom or belief, we can trace these strands a little way. We can thus see something of the real conditions determining a belief or a practice, and how indirect, and often how slender, is the relation between them and the reasons which men render to themselves. But at every stage of real development in social psychology the sphere of consciousness enlarges, so that bit by bit it brings within its light the forces that were working in the dark. It apprehends more explicitly the full meaning and implication of its own ideas, and begins to understand the general condition of its own growth. At the same time its valuations undergo a change. What may have 12. Comparative Religion and Sociology : Hohhouse 445 been necessary for the bare existence of society at one stage may become useless or obstructive to further development at a higher remove. This widening of the sphere of consciousness not merely involves a fuller knowledge of the conditions of mental hfe, but is itself a new condition, introducing the ideal of the development of the human mind to its highest powers of achievement as the goal of action and consequently the basis for the determination of values. The emergence of this conception, if rightly appreciated, seems to mark a turning-point in social psychology not unfairly comparable with the appearance of self-consciousness in the psychology of the individual, and the stages in the development of ethico-religious thought here roughly indicated appear when considered together as the successive steps by which it is approached. 13 THE SOCIAL DYNAMICS OF RELIGION By a. E. CRAWLEY. (Absteact) Pekhaps the most important chapter in the history of religion is that which wiU treat of its social action, its function in the evolution of the State. The subject is a wide one, and has not been compre- hensively studied in the Ught of modern anthropological science. The present sketch is an attempt to suggest a point of view from which the true features of the picture may be worked out. The study of the social and poHtical action of rehgion may best be commenced from the history of unciviHzed and semi-civihzed societies. In such communities society is in the making, while religion pervades all, and, equally with the culture of the people, is concerned with elemental interests. Any society, however socialistic, is made up of individuals, and its hfe story is the result of the process by which these individuals adapt themselves to each other and to their general environment. The relation of religion to this process of adaptation has its psychological aspect. The evolution of rehgion is part of the evolution of mind ; every development of rehgious thought is a result of a development of consciousness. But from whatever side this relation is viewed, it is all-important to bear in mind the fact that there is only one foundation of human society, and that is economic. In the process of adaptation to environ- ment each individual in the social organism, has one primary need — self-preservation and self-continuance. 446 IX, Method and Scope of the Histm-y of ReEgions What has religion to do Mdth this ? As Seeley pointed out, it is a profound error to draw a distinction between secular and ecclesiastical history. Even when the two departments have become independent, they remain correlative, and perhaps always will, as we shall see. If secular activity is the warp, religious activity is the woof of the historical fabric. In modern Europe even, the State was the Church until the eighteenth century ; in England the English Church was the Enghsh State until the time of Queen Anne. In the Ottoman empire to-day the reHgion of the citizen is his nationality. In the Middle Ages, in the old civilizations, and in the societies of barbarism and savagery the two were indissolubly one. Generally speaking, indeed, in early culture, any subject of human interest may be, and usually is, rehgious in character. Man's philosophy, his science, his politics and sociology, his medical practice, his morality, his everyday thought and action, behaviour and etiquette, even the processes of sense, emotion, and intellection, bear a rehgious stamp. It is very difficult for man, except in the highest stages of intellectual development, to know the ultimate motives of his acts. It is still more difficult for a society to realize the basis of their corporate energy. This fact must qualify all general statements as to the influence of rehgion. When, for instance, a people fights for its faith, or a martyr dies for his, the ultimate motive may be different. This will apply particularly to the great religious wars and to the great missionary movements. The Spanish conquest of America was regarded as a war for the faith. ' They,' we might put it, ' extend their territory by the sword or by education, and call it religion.' We must first have some account of religion as a working hypothesis for the purposes of our subject. Religious feeling, as I have tried to show elsewhere,'^ is rather a tone of psychic activity than a depart- ment. Rehgious feehng is a reflex of physical action, an emotional tone of the imagination, a form of mental exaltation, and it is addressed, as a rule, to serious and elemental concerns of life. In other words, it is an emotional reflex from the effort at adaptation to the environ- ment. To this it is applied in turn, and so becomes a cause, a secondary or accessory cause. A good example is found in those remarkable revivals of rehgion which took place recently among the aboriginal North American Indians. Here together with the Messianic idea, and the hope of a future regeneration of aboriginal society, there was an ethic which forbade war and violence. ' Tell no lies ; do harm to nobody.' The Sioux revolt of 1890 was due to famine and misery. The revival showed all the phenomena usual in conversion. An observer remarks that this new rehgion was one ' which will bring them into better accord with their white neighbours'. ' Tlie. Tree of Life : a Study of Religion. 13. Social Dynamics of Religion : Crawley 447 The religious tone might be also described by the metaphor of radiation. Itself a form of radiant energy, it surrounds the objects of its attention with a radiant aura ; it regards them as sacred. Thus an admired hero has to the worshipper a double personality, a radiant form surrounds his real self. Later, both in imagination and in fact, the two personalities may be made independent ; and so we have the distinction, for instance, between the King and the God. There is a remarkable biological coincidence or identification, which has hitherto, I think, escaped notice. This is the very curious simi- larity between the reUgion of a man and the play of a child. The true religious diathesis, I submit, is only an adult phenomenon ; it does not occur before puberty. The child has no religion, it has play instead. The adult very rarely has play, but he has rehgion ; and it might be shown in those geniuses to whom the remark applies that man is only complete when he plays, that their play is their religion. By play I mean not organized games, but that unconscious serious creation of another set of realities, which is one of the chief charac- teristics of childhood. Play is a free activity of the organism, guided by the imagination, in a world which it creates above or around the world of sense. The process of play is characterized by a mental exaltation, a profound seriousness and a power of consecration. Mental exaltation, it has been shown, is a regular recurrent state in childhood. Very similar is the mental exaltation of religion. In both cases the mind is at play, the material for the imagination is supplied by objective reality. Watch a group of savages performing their religious rites, they are just Mke children at play. The Central AustraUan occupied with his magical rehgious ceremonial (which fills most of his leisure time) moves with a solemn gravity and high seriousness only equalled by that of a child. Thus the spirit-world is a shadowy counterpart of this, ritual is a dramatic counterpart of important physical processes, the ethical ideal is a reflex or irradiation of human give-and-take. Now when this emotional irradiation of the rehgious spirit is com- bined with secular activity at the same moment, the result is an increase of power. The Brahman by performing elevatory ceremonies becomes divine. The rehgion of the Austrahans is a process by which things become secret and sacred ; so in detail, every meal may be a Eucharist, every marriage a divine union, every mother a Madonna, every babe a Son of God. This, I take it, in varying forms and with varying appUcations, is the real nature of the process by which religion acts in the individual and the social Ufe of man. We have seen that in early culture everything is coloured or informed by religion, but we must avoid the error of ascribing the origin of 448 IX. Method and Scope of the History of Beligions institutions or of civilization generally to religion. Thus, it is not the case that agriculture is due to totemism, or that caste is religious in its origin. The question of agriculture serves to introduce our main line of illustration of the working of religion in society. I may preface it by some general remarks. It has long been accepted, and rightly so, that the identity of the rehgious and the secular produces solidarity in a state, and is essential at a certain period of the making of a nation. Payne begins his account of social evolution with the position that the food-quest is anterior to all social activities. He shows that the step from savagery is taken when a method of artificial food-production has been foimd. Nothing worthy the name of civilization has ever been foiuided on any other alimentary basis than the cereals. Ail foods become sacred because they are of such supreme impor- tance. The first meaning of words denoting good and evil is good for food and bad for food. The first moral law is the food tabu. In the food-quest, as in other departments of life, the savage makes in his own image, or in that of animals or in some vague invisible but material shape, beings of higher powers, some good and some evil. The good will help him in the food-quest as elsewhere, but they need food and drink no less than he does. All this is sometimes later, and sometimes contemporaneous with magical-religious methods of helping the growth of food. Add to this the emotion of exalted seriousness, which gives to important elemental things a sacred quaUty, and we can trace the growth of the main components of the reflex action which is expressed as religion. These vaguely envisaged spirits become gods of the corn or other food ; they become stationary, when agriculture has developed. The next step is a house for the god. When the savage asks the question, what makes corn to grow, his vitalistic theory tells him it is a spirit in the plant — so we have the famiUar maize-mother, rice-mother, corn-mother. These and other issues of primitive rehgion are combined and organized in what Payne calls the Covenant of the Gods and Man. This covenant imports mutual services — do ut des, facio ut facias. Hence coherence and stability is given to human society. It estabUshes a partnership ; and by the irradiating force of religious emotion, or by faith, as well as by the economic necessity of providing food for the gods as well as for himself, man is forced to dovhle his work. The pro- duce of his industry is increased manifold. The gods receive their share. They also need houses, clothes and fields. ' It is easy to see how large are the drafts which are thus made upon the great bank of civilization, the labour of man.' 13. Social Dynamics of Religion : Crawley 449 The way in which an aristocracy, developed to protect the means of subsistence, controls religion for the real purpose of securing the proper organization of the food-supply, is a subject in itself. The rise of a religion of the industrial class is an interesting and important result, and well shows the connexion between economics and religion. Christianity itself is such in origin. The Herakles of the Greeks was a labour-god and Central America had similar deities. Religion in history has its rhythm, its ebb and flow, its revivals and its inertia. Great national excitement, such as war, may produce religious energy, long peace may produce stagnation. The vitality of religion depends on individual and egoistic interests : as soon as it is organized and made a department of life, individual or social, it shifts its true centre of gravity and tends in time to lose its hold on the people, because it has no relation to facts. Throughout history it may be well seen how religion conserves elemental institutions such as the family and marriage, by making them sacred. The chief function of religion, we repeat, is to consecrate the elemental matters of Hfe. It is significant that the most enduring rite of Christianity is the sacred meal, the Eucharist, which, among other things, certainly stands for a consecration of the means of life. a g LAST GENERAL MEETING A General Meeting of the Congress was held on September 18th in the Examination Schools at 5.45 p.m., the President in the Chair. Prof. Gardner moved the first resolution, which was seconded by Prof. F. C. Burkitt (Cambridge) and carried unanimously : ' That the best thanks of the Congress be given to the President, the Right Hon. Sir A. C. Lyall, and to the several Presidents of Sections, for their very valuable addresses, and for their conduct of the business at the General and Sectional Meetings.' Moved by the President from the Chair, and seconded by Prof. Dr. A. HiUebrandt (Bonn), and resolved : ' That this Congress grate- fully acknowledges the kindness of the Council of the University in placing the Examination Schools at the service of the Congress for its various meetings, and expresses its sincere thanks to the Curators of the Schools for the various facilities thus enjoyed.' Moved by the President from the Chair, and seconded by Count Goblet d'AlvieUa, and resolved : ' That this Congress offers its heartiest thanks to the Worshipful the Mayor of Oxford and the Mayoress, for their generous reception of the Congress at the Town Hall on Tuesday, September 15th ; and to the numerous hosts and hostesses who have received Delegates to the Congress and invited Readers of Papers into their homes.' Moved by Prof. Rhys Davids (Manchester), and seconded by Prof. Morris Jastrow Jun. (Philadelphia) and resolved : ' That the best thanks of the Congress be given to the local Committee for their labour in preparing the work of the Congress.' Dr. Paul Deussen (Kiel) presented to the Congress the volumes of his Allgemeine Oeschichte der Philosophie, with the following words : 'Meine Damen und Herren ! Es freut mich, dem Congresse fiir Geschichte der Religionen ein Werk iiberreichen zu konnen, welches nach vieljahriger Arbeit soeben voUendet worden ist, eine Geschichte der indischen Philosophie nebst einem Anhang liber die Philosophic der Chinesen und Japaner . Das Werk konnte auch heissen : Geschichte der indischen Theologie, denn Philosophie und Theologie sind in Indien wie auch in China und Japan nicht unterschieden und nicht imter- scheidbar ; und wenn beide bei uns auseinander gehalten werden, so ist dies nur ein Symptom der krankhaften Entwickelung, welche unsere abendlandische Kultur durchgemacht hat. Es giebt nur eine allgemeine ewige Wahrheit, und alle Denker auf philosophischem wie auf theologischem Gebiete sind Sucher nach dieser Wahrheit und Last General Meeting 451 haben dazu beigetragen, sie zu finden. Beide Bestrebungen haben sich von jeher gegenseitig unterstiitzt ; unsere Theologie hat vieles gelemt und hat noch vieles zu lernen von Platon, Kant und Schopen- hauer, und unsere Philosophie steht mindestens ebenso sehr, wenn nicht noch mehr, unter dem Einflusse eines Jesus und Paulus wie unter dem eines Platon und Aristoteles. Zwei Quellen und nicht mehr sind es, aus denen alle philosophischen wie theologischen Erkenntnisse entspringen : die aussere Erfahrung, welche uns die Korperwelt in Raum und Zeit kennen lehrt, und die innere Erfahrung, welche uns die psychischen Verhaltnisse enthiillt und zugleich einen Einblick in die letzten metaphysischen Tiefen unseres eigenen Selbstes, da wo es mit der Gottheit zusammenfallt, gestattet. Aus diesen Tiefen schopften Propheten und Psalmen, Jesus, Paulus und der vierte Evangelist ; das ist ihre Offenbarung, die sie den Menschen gebracht haben. Aber dieselben Quellen, aus denen sie diese Offenbarungen schopften, stehen auch heute noch offen ; und eine Philosophie, welche die Augen vor ihnen verschhessen woUte, wiirde sich des Besten berauben was sie zu geben im Stande ist. Wenn aber behauptet wird, dass Philosophie die Sache des Kopfes und Verstandes, Religion eine solche des Herzens und Gefiihls sei, so miissenwir erwidern, dass es schlecht um eine Rehgion steht, welche nicht mit alien sichern Resultaten der Naturwissenschaft und Geschichte in Einklang steht, und schlecht um eine Philosophie, welche nur Sache des Kopfes ist und nicht vielmehr Kopf und Herz und den ganzen Menschen ergreift und auf das tiefste erschiittert. 'Diese Einheit des theologischen und philosophischen Denkens, welche bei uns noch fehlt, hat im ferneren Orient von jeher bestanden ; Vedanta, Safikhyam und Yoga, Tainismus und Buddhismus in Indien, Taoismus und Confucianismus in China, sind ebenso sehr Rehgionen wie Philosophien ; und wenn der Chinese das schone Sprichwort hat, san Mao i kia, ' drei Lehren eine PamiUe,' so versteht er unter den drei Lehren den Taoismus, Confucianismus und Buddhismus, sowohl im religiosen wie im philosophischen Sinne. ' Das vorUegende Werk zerfallt in drei Telle. Der erste verf olgt das erste kindliche Lallen, die ersten Fliigelschlage des philosophisch- religiosen Genius in den Hymnen und Brahmanas des Veda ; der zweite Teil bringt den hohen Flug dieses Genius aus der Literatur der Upanishads zur Darstellung ; und der dritte Teil zeigt wie die Gedanken der Upanishads sich zu sechzehn philosophisch-rehgiosen Systemen fortentwickelt haben, unter denen Tainismus und Buddhis- mus, Safikhyam, Yoga und Vedanta die erste Stelle einnehmen. Eine kurze tJbersicht liber die Literatur und die Gedankenschatze der chinesischen und japanischen Welt bildet den Abschluss des vor- liegenden Werkes, als dessen Fortsetzung drei weitere Abteilungen : die Gg 2 452 International Congress for the History of Religions griechische, biblische, mittelalterliche und neuere Philosophie, er- seheinen soUen, so weit Leben, Zeit und Krafte es gestatten.' Prof. Macdonell (Oxford) announced the approaching issue of an Index to the Sacred Books of the East by the University Press. Moved by Dr. J. E. Carpenter (Oxford), seconded by Prof. A. Moret (Paris), and resolved : ' That the following Members of the Congress and of the original International Committee be appointed an Inter- national Committee to arrange for the Meeting of the Congress four years hence : — Prof. A. Alphandery (Paris) ; Count Goblet d'Alviella (Brussels) ; Prof. A. Bertholet (Basel) ; Dr. J. E. Carpenter (Oxford) ; Prof. F. von Duhn (Heidelberg) ; Prof. Percy Gardner (Oxford) ; Prof. Ignatz Goldziher (Buda-Pest) ; Prof. J. J. M. de Groot (Leiden) ; Prof, de Gubernatis (Rome) ; Prof. Morris Jastrow Jun. (Phila- delphia) ; Prof. Dr. A. Loofs (Halle) ; Prof. George Moore (Harvard) ; Prof. Edouard Naville (Geneva) ; Prof. Dr. C. von Orelli (Basel) ; Prof. Dr. Soderblom (Upsala) ; Prof. Toutain (Paris) ; and that Prof. Bertholet be requested to act as Secretary, and correspond with the Members of the Committee. I. INDEX OF AUTHORS Abrahams, I., ii. 388. AUen, H. J., i. 115. Alphandery, Prof. P., ii. 354. Alviella, Count G. d', ii. 365. Aneaaki, Prof. M., i. 122, 154. AnitchkofE, B., ii. 244. Anwyl, Prof. E., ii. 234. Arnold, Prof. T. W., i. 314. Astley, Rev. Dr. H. J. D., i. 263. Babut, Prof. E. C, ii. 345. Baldwin, Prof. J. M., ii. 389. Barnett, Prof. L. D., ii. 48. BeU, G., ii. 334. Bertholet, Prof. A., i. 272. Bissing, Prof. Preiherr von, i. 225. Bonet-Maviry, Prof. G., ii. 339. Burkitt, Prof. P. C, ii. 321. Camerlynck, H., ii. 66, 353. Campbell, Rev. Prof. L., ii. 140. Capart, J., i. 201. Charles, Rev. Dr. R. H., i. 305. Clodd, E., i. 33. Conybeare, P. C, ii. 177, 358. Cook, A. B., ii. 184. Cook, S. A., i. 259. Coomaraswamy, Dr. A., ii. 70. Cooper, N. M., ii. 100. Crawley, A. E., ii. 445. Cumont, Prof. P., ii. 197. Davids, C. A. P. Rhys, ii. 43. Davids, Prof. T. W. Rhys, ii. 3. Davies, Prof. T. W., ii. 303. De Groot, Prof. J. J. M., i. 138. De Silva, Dr., ii. 85. Deussen, Prof. P., ii. 19, 383. Dobschiitz, Prof. E. von, ii. 312. Eckenstein, L., i. 79. Eisler, Dr. R., ii. 352. Evans, Dr. A. J., ii. 195. Pamell, Dr. L. R., ii. 139. Pourri^re, L'Abbe E., ii. 183, 259. Powler, W. Warde, ii. 169. Frazer, Prof. J. G., i. 255. Gardiner, A. H., i. 208. Gardner, Prof. P., ii. 79. Garvie, Rev. A. E., ii. 424. Gaster, Dr. M., i. 298. Gennadius, Dr. J., ii. 105. Giles, Prof. H. A., i. 105. Glover, T. R., ii. 165. Grierson, Dr. G. A., ii. 44. Guimet, E., ii. 301. Hackmann, Rev. H., i. 137. Hall, J. Carey, i. 158. Harris, Dr. J. Rendel, ii. 175 Harrison, J. E., ii. 154. Hartland, E. S., i. 21, 83. Haupt, Prof. P., i. 268, 302. Hillebrandt, Prof. A., ii. 10. Hirn, Prof. Y., ii. 358. Hobhouse, Prof. L. T., ii. 433 Hodson, T. C, i. 58. Hogg, Prof. H. W., i. 325. Hollis, A. C, i. 87. Jaoobi, Prof. H., ii. 59. Jastrow, Prof. M., i. 231. Jevons, P. B., i. 71, ii. 131. Jolly, Prof. J., ii. 25. Jordan, Rev. L. H., ii. 427. Keith, A. B., ii. 49. Langdon, Dr. S., i. 249. Leuba, Prof. J. H., ii. 380. Lewis, A. L., ii. 231. Lincke, Dr. K., ii. 328. Lloyd, Rev. Dr. A., i. 132. Loofs, Prof. P., ii. 290. LyaU, Sir A. C, i. 1. MaoCullooh, Rev. Canon J. A., ii 226. MacdoneU, Prof. A. A., ii. 74. MacRitchie, D., i. 41. Marett, R. R., i. 46. Margohouth, Rev. Prof. D. S., i. 292. Mazumdar, B. C, ii. 74. Meyer, Dr. R. M., ii. 411. Moret, Prof. A., i. 216. Moulton, Rev. Prof. J. H., ii. 89. Murray, M. A., i. 220. Newberry, Prof. P. E., i. 211. Nicholson, R. A., i. 293. Norman, Prof. H. C, ii. 85. Oltramare, Prof. P., ii. 67. Omori, Z., i. 128, 150. Orelh, Prof. C. von, i. 284. Owen, M. A., i. 101. 454 I. Index of Authors Peabody, Prof. F. G., ii. 305. Petrie, Prof. W. M. Flinders, i. 224. Porter, Prof. F. C, ii. 283. Poussin, L. de la Vallee, ii. 32. Preuss, Dr. K., i. 36. PuUen-Burry, B., i. 84. Reinach, S., ii. 117, 260. R«von, Prof. M., i. 165. Rhys, Prof. Sir J., ii. 201. Rosenberg, E., i. 321. Sanday, Rev. Prof. W., ii. 263. 185, Schmidt, Prof. W., i. 213. SeUgmann, Dr. C. G., i. 59. Skeat, W. W., i. 95. Soderblom, Rev. Prof. N., ii. 391. Spilsbury, Rev. Dr. J. H. G., i. 91. Stock, St. G., ii. 164. Suzuki, D. T., i. 119. Teano, Prince of, ii. 333. Titius, Prof. A., i. 85, ii. 412. Toutain, J., ii. 121. Webb, 0. C. J., ii. 416. Whitehouse, Rev. Dr. O. C, i. 280. II. INDEX OF PAPEKS America, Religious Beliefs of the Native Tribes of South, i. 91. American Indians, The Messiah Beliefs of the, i. 101. Amos, The Starting-point of the Religious Message of, i. 325. Amulets, Personal, i. 79. Animism and Totemism in the Old Testament, i. 263. Antinoe, Les Chretiens d', ii. 301. Aramaic Papyri found at Syene, i. 280. Arctic Races, Idol-worship among the, i. 41. Art and Religion in India, The Rela- tions of, ii. 70. Asceticism, Egyptian (not printed), i. xxiii. Asia Minor, Monasteries in Central, ii. 334. Assam Hill Tribes, Funerary Customs and Eschatological BeUefs of, i. 58. Astralkult, Der, der mexikanischen Indianer, i. 36. Astrologie dans le monde romain, L'influence reUgieuse de 1', ii. 197. Astrology and Hepatoscopy in Ancient Babylonia (not printed), i. xxiii. Axe-Cult, The Cretan, outside Crete, ii. 184. Babylonian Ritual of Private Penance, i. 249. Baetul in Damascius, The, ii. 177. Bahaism, i. 321. Bird and Pillar Cults in relation to Ouranian Divinities, ii. 154. Bismarck Archipelago, Beliefs of the Melanesians of the, i. 84. Bodhisattva, The Doctrine of the, i. 119. Bouddhisme, Psychologic ReUgieuse et, ii. 67. Brahmin, Demetrius Galanos, the Greek, ii. 105. Buddhaghosa and ' the Way of Purity ' (not printed), i. xxvii. Buddhism, Faith and Reason in, ii. 32. Buddhism in Japan, Honen, the Pietist Saint of, i. 122. Buddhism, its connexion with Taoism and Confucianism in early days, i. 115. Buddhism, Knowledge and Intuition in, ii. 43. Buddhism, Rehgious Experience in (not printed), i. xxvii. Buddhist Influence upon the Japanese, i. 154. Buddhist Missionaries, A Note on some Sermons of, ii. 85. Buddhist Monastic Life in China, i. 137. Buddhist Religious Art, ii. 74. Buddhist Triratna, The place of the, amongst Holy Triads, ii. 391. Canaanite Religion at the time of the Israelite Invasion, i. 259. Canons de Sardique, L'authentioite des, ii. 345. China, The Origin of the Taoist Church in, i. 138. Christ's Descent into Hell, ii. 290. Cloelia and Epona, ii. 260. Comparative Religion, A Pragmatic View of, ii. 388. Comparative Religion, The Relation of, to the History of Religions, ii. 427. Conception of God, The Development of the, ii. 424. Confreries rehgieuses, Les, dans I'lslam- isme et les Ordres miUtaires dans le CathoUcisme, ii. 339. Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism, their connexion in early days, i. 115. Cretan Axe-Cult, The, outside Crete, ii. 184. Crete, The Cult and Sanctuaries of Minoan, ii. 195. Criminals, The Cult of executed, in Sicily, i. 83. Daemon, The, in Stoicism, ii. 164. Daemons in the Revival of Paganism, ii. 165. Damascius, The Baetul in, ii. 177. Damascus, The Great Church of, ii. 333. Dead Body, The Treatment of the, in Ancient Eg3?pt, i. 213. Defixionum Tabellae, ii. 131. Dionysiac Rites of Sacrifice, ii. 139. Druids, The, in the light of recent theories, ii. 226. 456 //. Index of Papers Early Teutonic Religions, Outline of (not printed), i. xxx. Egypt, Priesthoods of Women in, i. 220. Egypt, The Treatment of the Dead Body in Ancient, i. 213. l^gypte, Le Culte du Eoi en, i. 216. Egyptian Asceticism (not printed), i. xxiii. Egjrptian Early Cults, Remarks on, i. 211. Egyptian Magic, Notes on, i. 208. Egyptian Religion, Aspects of, i. 185. Eschatological Beliefs of the Assam Hill Tribes, i. 58. Eschatology, New Testament, and New Testament Ethics, ii. 305. Eschatology, The significance of Early Christian, ii. 312. Ethnology of GaMlee, The, i. 302. Eucharist, The Origins of the, ii. 352. Faith and Reason in Buddhism, ii. 32. Folk-Lore, Hebrew, i. 255. Galanos, Demetrius, The Greek Brah- min, ii. 105. GaMlee, The Ethnology of, i. 302. Genetic Study, The, of Religion, ii. 389. Gnosticism and Japanese Buddhism, Possible connexions between, i. 132. God, The Development of the Con- ception of, ii. 424. Grecs, Le culte du soleil et les sacrifices humains chez les, ii. 183. Greek Influences on the Religious Art of Northern India, ii. 79. Heavenly Twins, The Cult of the, ii. 175. Hebrew Polk-Lore, i. 255. Hebrew Prophets, The Religion of the, i. 268. Hell, Christ's Descent into, ii. 290. H6r6siologie medievale latine, Sectes dans l',ii. 354. Hermetic Writings, Historical Refer- ences in, i. 224. Hindu Doctrine of Faith, The modem, ii. 44. Hinduism, Survivals of, among Indian Muhammadans, i. 314. Honen, the Buddhist St. Francis, i. 122. Husbandmen, Parable of the Wicked, ii. 321. Idol-worship among the Arctic Races, i. 41. India, Ancient, The Monotheistic Re- ligion of, ii. 44. India, Greek influences on Art of, ii. 79. India, The Relations of Art and Re- ligion in, ii. 70. India, The Religion of Love in, u. 48. Indian Lawbooks, The Study of, ii. 25. Indian Religions, Problems relating to the History of, ii. 74. Isis-worship at Pompeii, Representa- tions of, i. 225. Israel, Religious Wisdom in, i. 284. Israel, The Genesis of (not printed), Jainas, The Metaphysics and Ethics of the, ii. 59. Japan, A history of the Zen Shu in, i. 128. Japan, The Ophite Gnostics and the Pure Land Sect in, i. 132. Japanese Buddhism, Honen, the Pietist Saint of, i. 122. Japanese, Buddhist influence upon the, i. 154. Japanese Philosopher, A, on Shinto, i. 158. Jesus in Jerusalem, ii. 328. Jesus, Nationality of, i. 302. Judaism and Christianity, ii. 303. Judaism in the light of Samaritan Traditions, i. 298. Judaism, The Religious-Historical Problem of later, i. 272. Kalki Avatara of Visnu, The, ii. 85. Kantianismus und Religion, Material- ismus, ii. 383. Ejiowledge and Intuition in Bud- dhism, ii. 43. Lawbooks, Importance of the Study of Eastern, particularly Indian, ii. 25. Love, The Religion of, in India, ii. 48. Mabinogion, The Value of the, for the Study of Celtic Religion, ii. 234. Magic, i. 71. Magic, Notes on Egyptian, i. 208. Mahavrata, The Vedio, ii. 49. Malay Peninsula, Totemism in the, i. 95. Mana, The Conception of, i. 46. Man's Forgiveness of his Neighbour, i. 305. Markusevangehum, Petrus- und Paulus- iiberlieferung im, ii. 328. Materialismus, Kantianismus und Religion, ii. 383. Melanesians, Beliefs of the, of the Bismarck Archipelago, i. 84. Messiah Beliefs, The, of the American Indians, i. 101. Meuniers, Statuettes des, i. 201. //. Index of Papers 457 Mexikanisohen Indianer, Der Astralkult der, i. 36. Monasteries in Central Asia Minor, ii. 334. Monastic Life, Buddhist, in China, i. 137. Monotheism in Ancient India, ii. 44. Muhammadans of India, Survivals of Hinduism among, i. 314. Mythologische Studien aus der Neueren Zeit, ii. 411. Names, The Use of Sacred, ii. 358. Nandi, The Religion of the, i. 87. New Testament Esohatology and New Testament Ethics, ii. 305. Nirvana, Le, ii. 66. Noms propres de I'lrlande et de la Grande-Bretagne, ii. 259. Ophite Gnostics in Japan, The, i. 132. Ordres militaires dans le CathoUoisme, Les Confr6ries reUgieuses dans f rislamisme et les, ii. 339. Origin of KeUgion, The, ii. 380. Origin of the Taoist Church in China, The, i. 138. Origine du Christianisme, L', ii. 353. Orpheus and the Fish-Cult (not printed), i. xxix. Ouranian Divinities, Bird and PiUar Cults in relation to, ii. 154. Pai Chang Ch'ing Kuei, i. 137. Parable, The, of the Wicked Husband- men, ii. 321. Parsism, Syncretism in Religion as illustrated in the history of, ii. 89. Philosophy of Rehgion, Some recent movements in relation to the, ii. 416. Plato, The Religious Element in, ii. 140. Pompeii, Representations of Isis-wor- ship at, i. 225. Popular Judaism in the time of the Second Temple, i. 298. Pre-animistic Stages in Religion, i. 33. Prophets, The Rehgion of the Hebrew, i. 268. Psychologic religieuse et Bouddhisme, ii. 67. ReUgio, The Latin Meaning of, ii. 169. Religionsgeschichte und ReMgions- psychologie, ii. 412. Rehgious BeUefs of the Native Tribes of South America, i. 91. Roi, Le Culte du, en figypte, i. 216. Russian Pagan Cults, Old, ii. 244. Sacred Book, The Place of the, in the Christian Rehgion, ii. 283. Sacred Shrines of Catholic Art, ii. 358. Sardique, L' authenticity des Canons de, ii. 345. Scheppig's, Prof., Porschungen iiber die Naturvolker, i. 85. Sectes dans I'Heresiologie medi6vale latine, ii. 354. Sermons of early Buddhist Missionaries, ii. 85. Shinto, A Japanese Philosopher on, i. 158. Shinto, Les Anciens Rituels du, i. 165. Sicily, The Cult of executed Criminals in, i. 83. Social Djmamics of Religion, The, ii. 445. Sociology, Comparative Religion and, ii. 433. Stoicism, The Daemon in, ii. 164. Stone-Circles in Great Britain, The Rehgion of the Makers of, ii. 231. Sufiism, The oldest Persian Manual of, ■ i. 293. Sufi Author, The First, i. 292. Survivals of Hinduism among the Muhammadans of India, i. 314. Syene, Recent discoveries at, i. 280. Sjmoretism in Religion, ii. 89. Taoism, its connexion with Confu- cianism and Buddhism in early days, i. 115. Taoist Church in China, The Origin of the, i. 138. Totemism in the Malay Peninsula, i. 95. Totemism in the Old Testament, Animism and, i. 263. Tot6misme et I'Histoire des ReUgions, ii. 121. Triads, Holy, ii. 391. Upanishadtexte, Die Chronologic der, ii. 19. Vedda Cult of the Dead, The, i. 59. Vedic Mahavrata, The, ii. 49. Vedic Mythology, ii. 10. Visnu, The KaIki Avatara of, ii. 85. Women, Priesthoods of, in Egypt, i. 220. Zen Shu in Japan, A History of the, i. 128. Zen Shu, The Principles of the, i. 150. Zoroastrian Code of Gentlehood, The, ii. 100. OXFORD PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS BY HORACE HART, M.A. PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY