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diff --git a/old/53646-0.txt b/old/53646-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 95441a4..0000000 --- a/old/53646-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5576 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Anthropology and the Classics, by Sir Arthur -Evans, Andrew Lang, Gilbert Murray, F. B. (Frank Byron) Jevons, Sir John -Linton Myres, and W. Warde (William Warde) Fowler, Edited by R. R. (Robert -Ranulph) Marett - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Anthropology and the Classics - Six Lectures Delivered Before the University of Oxford - - -Author: Sir Arthur Evans, Andrew Lang, Gilbert Murray, F. B. (Frank Byron) -Jevons, Sir John Linton Myres, and W. Warde (William Warde) Fowler - -Editor: R. R. (Robert Ranulph) Marett - -Release Date: December 1, 2016 [eBook #53646] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANTHROPOLOGY AND THE CLASSICS*** - - -E-text prepared by deaurider, Paul Marshall, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 53646-h.htm or 53646-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53646/53646-h/53646-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53646/53646-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/AnthropologyAndTheClassics - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - - A carat character is used to denote superscription. A - single character following the carat is superscripted - (example: ^2). - - Small capitals have been converted to ALL CAPITALS. - - - - - -ANTHROPOLOGY AND THE CLASSICS - -Six Lectures Delivered Before -the University of Oxford - -by - -ARTHUR J. EVANS -ANDREW LANG GILBERT MURRAY -F. B. JEVONS J. L. MYRES W. WARDE FOWLER - -Edited by - -R. R. MARETT - -Secretary to the Committee for Anthropology - - - - - - - -Oxford -At the Clarendon Press -MCMVIII - -Henry Frowde, M.A. -Publisher to the University of Oxford -London, Edinburgh, New York -Toronto and Melbourne - - - - -PREFACE - - -Anthropology and the Humanities--on verbal grounds one might suppose -them coextensive; yet in practice they divide the domain of human -culture between them. The types of human culture are, in fact, -reducible to two, a simpler and a more complex, or, as we are wont to -say (valuing our own achievements, I doubt not, rightly), a lower and a -higher. By established convention Anthropology occupies itself solely -with culture of the simpler or lower kind. The Humanities, on the other -hand--those humanizing studies that, for us at all events, have their -parent source in the literatures of Greece and Rome--concentrate on -whatever is most constitutive and characteristic of the higher life of -society. - -What, then, of phenomena of transition? Are they to be suffered to -form a no-man’s-land, a buffer-tract left purposely undeveloped, -lest, forsooth, the associates of barbarism should fall foul of the -friends of civilization? Plainly, in the cause of science, a pacific -penetration must be tolerated, nay, encouraged, from both sides at -once. Anthropology must cast forwards, the Humanities cast back. And -there is not the slightest reason (unless prejudice be accounted -reason) why conflict should arise between the interests thus led to -intermingle. - -Indeed, how can there be conflict, when, as in the case of each -contributor to the present volume, the two interests in question, -Anthropology on this side and Classical Archaeology and Scholarship -on that, are the joint concern of one and the same man? Dr. Evans -both is a leading authority on prehistoric Europe, and likewise, by -restoring the Minoan age to the light of day, has set Greek history -in a new and juster perspective. Dr. Lang is an anthropologist of -renown, and no one, even amongst his peers, has enriched the science -with so many original and fertile hypotheses; nevertheless he has found -time (and for how much else has he found time as well!) not only to -translate Homer, but also to vindicate his very existence. Professor -Murray can turn his rare faculty of sympathetic insight now to the -reinterpretation of the music of Euripides, and now to the analysis of -the elemental forces that combine and crystallize in the Greek epic. -Principal Jevons is famous for his brilliant suggestions in regard -to the early history of religion; but he has also laboured in the -cause of European archaeology, and his edition of Plutarch’s _Romane -Questions_ is very precious to the student of classical antiquities. -Professor Myres, whilst he teaches Greek language and literature as the -modern man would have them taught, and is a learned archaeologist to -boot, yet can have no greater title to our respect than that, of many -devoted helpers, he did the most to organize an effective school of -Anthropology in the University of Oxford. Finally, Mr. Warde Fowler, -living embodiment as he is in the eyes of all his friends of the -Humaner Letters, both is the historian of the Graeco-Roman city-state, -and can wield the comparative method so as to extort human meaning from -ancient Rome’s stately, but somewhat soulless, rites. Unless, then, -dual personality of some dissociated and morbid type is to be -attributed to these distinguished men, they can scarcely fail, being -anthropologists and humanists at once, to carry on nicely concerted -operations from both sides of their subject, just as the clever -engineer can set to work on his tunnel from both sides of the mountain. - -It is but fair to add, however, that in the present case the first move -has been made from the anthropological side. The six lectures composing -this volume were delivered during the Michaelmas Term of 1908, at the -instance of the Committee for Anthropology, which from the outset of -its career has kept steadily in view the need of inducing classical -scholars to study the lower culture as it bears upon the higher. -Anthropology, to be sure, must often divert its attention to lines of -development branching off in many a direction from the track of advance -that leads past Athens and Rome. For us, however, and consequently -for our science, the latter remains the central and decisive path of -social evolution. In short, the general orientation of Anthropology, it -would seem, must always be towards the dawn of what Lecky so happily -describes as ‘the European epoch of the human mind’. - -Lastly, a word may be said in explanation of the title chosen. -‘Anthropology and the Classics’ is exactly suited to express that -conjunction of interests of which mention has already been made--the -conjunction so perfectly exemplified by the life-work of each -contributor to the volume. But some myopic critic might contend that, -however well fitted to indicate the scope of the work as a whole, the -title hardly applies to this or that essay taken by itself. It surely -matters little if this be so; yet is it so? Dr. Evans’s lecture is -introductory. To gather impetus for our imaginative leap into the -classical period we start, it is true, from the cave-man, but have -already crossed the threshold in arriving at the Cretan. Homer, Hesiod, -Herodotus--the claims of these to rank as classics are not likely to -be assailed. There remain the Roman subjects, magic and lustration. In -what sense are they classical? Now, to use the language of biology, -whereas Greek literature is congenital, Roman literature is in large -part acquired. Therefore it includes no ‘songs before sunrise’; for -it the ‘father of history’ cannot be born again. Spirit no less than -form is an importation. In particular, the magico-religious beliefs -of Latium have lost their hold on the imitator of Greece and the -Orient. Yet primal nature will out; and the Romans, moreover, were a -pious people who loved to dwell on their _origines_. To appreciate the -greatest of Latin classics, Virgil--to glance no further afield--one -must at least have gained the right to greet him as fellow-antiquary. -For the rest, these essays profess to be no more than _vindemiatio -prima_, a first gleaning. When the harvest has been fully gathered in, -it will then be time to say, in regard to the classics both of Greece -and of Rome, how far the old lives on in the new, how far what the -student in his haste is apt to label ‘survival’ stands for a force -still tugging at the heart-strings of even the most sophisticated and -lordly heir of the ages. - - R. R. MARETT. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - LECTURE I PAGE - THE EUROPEAN DIFFUSION OF PRIMITIVE PICTOGRAPHY - AND ITS BEARINGS ON THE ORIGIN OF SCRIPT. - BY A. J. EVANS 9 - - LECTURE II - HOMER AND ANTHROPOLOGY. BY A. LANG 44 - - - LECTURE III - THE EARLY GREEK EPIC. BY G. G. A. MURRAY 66 - - - LECTURE IV - GRAECO-ITALIAN MAGIC. BY F. B. JEVONS 93 - - - LECTURE V - HERODOTUS AND ANTHROPOLOGY. BY J. L. MYRES 121 - - - LECTURE VI - LUSTRATIO. BY W. W. FOWLER 169 - - - - -LECTURE I - -THE EUROPEAN DIFFUSION OF PICTOGRAPHY -AND ITS BEARINGS ON THE ORIGIN OF SCRIPT - - -The idea, formerly prevalent among classical scholars, that, before -the introduction of the Phoenician alphabet, there was no developed -system of written communication in Ancient Greece, has now fairly -broken down. In itself such an assumption shows not only a curious lack -of imagination, but a deliberate shutting of the eyes on the evidence -supplied by primitive races all over the world. - -Was it possible, in view of these analogies, to believe that a form of -early culture which reached the stage revealed to us by Schliemann’s -discoveries at Mycenae was, from the point of view of written -communication, below that of the Red Indians? To myself, at least, it -was clear that the apparent lacuna in our knowledge must eventually -be supplied. It was with this instinctive assurance that I approached -the field of Cretan investigation, and the results of the discoveries -in the source and seminary of the Mycenaean culture of Greece have now -placed the matter beyond the range of controversy. The clay archives -found in the Palace of Knossos and elsewhere have proved that the -prehistoric Cretan had already, a thousand years before the appearance -of the first written record of Classical Greece, passed through every -stage in the evolution of a highly developed system of script. - -There is evidence of a simple pictographic stage, and a -conventionalized hieroglyphic system growing out of it. And there is -evidence in them of the evolution out of these earlier elements of a -singularly advanced type of linear script of which two inter-related -forms are known. - -A detailed account of these fully equipped forms of writing that thus -arose in the Minoan world will be given elsewhere.[1] For the moment I -would rather have you regard these first-fruits of literary produce in -European soil in their relation to the tree of very ancient growth and -of spreading roots and branches that thus, in the fullness of time, put -them forth. I refer to the primitive picture- and sign-writing that was -diffused throughout the European area and the bordering Mediterranean -region from immemorial antiquity. - -In attempting a general survey of the various provinces--if we may -use the word--in which the remains of this ancient pictography are -distributed, it is necessary in the first instance to direct attention -to one so remote in time and circumstances that it may almost be -legitimately regarded as belonging to an older world. - -I refer to the remarkable evidence of the employment of pictographic -figures and signs, and even of some so worn by use that they can -only be described as ‘alphabetiform’, among the wall-paintings and -engravings of the ‘Reindeer Period’--to use the term in its widest -general signification. - -The whole cycle of designs by the cave-dwellers of the late -Palaeolithic periods may, to a very large extent, be described as -‘picture-writing’ in the more general sense of the word. The drawings -and carvings of reindeer and bisons, or more dangerous animals, such as -the mammoth, the cave bear, and lion, doubtless commemorated personal -experiences. In one case, at any rate, the naked man stalking an -aurochs, engraved on a reindeer horn, we have an actual record of the -chase. - -[Illustration: FIG. 1. Stalking Aurochs.] - -But over and above this more elaborate kind of picture story, the mass -of new materials--due in a principal degree to the patient researches -of Messieurs Cartailhac, Capitan, the Abbé Breuil, and the late M. -Piette--have thrown quite a new light on the development of pictography -among the late Palaeolithic peoples. Such a series of polychrome -wall-paintings as have been discovered in the great Cave of Altamira -near Santander, in Spain--paralleled by those found in the Grotte -de Marsoulas and elsewhere on the French side of the Pyrenees, with -their brilliant colouring and chiaroscuro, present this primaeval art -under quite new aspects. Moreover the superposition of one painting or -engraving over another on the walls of the caverns has supplied fresh -and valuable evidence as to the succession of the various phases -of this ‘parietal’ art. We have to deal with almost inexhaustible -palimpsests. - -What is of special interest, however, in the present connexion, is -that, side by side with the larger or more complete representations, -there appear, in the lowest layer of these rock palimpsests, -abbreviated figures and linear signs which already at times present a -truly alphabetiform character. - -Here we have the evidence of a gradual advance from simpler to more -elaborate forms. On the other hand, the _converse process_, the -gradual degeneration of more pictorial forms into their shorthand, -linearized equivalents, can often be traced in the series of these -representations. The Abbé Breuil, for instance, has recently published -a series of tables showing the progressive degeneration and stylization -of the heads of horses, goats, deer and oxen.[2] Without subscribing -to his views in all their details, it is evident that this derivative -series, as a whole, can be clearly made out. The abbreviation of the -oxheads in Fig. 2 is fairly clear up to No. 12, though whether the -further procession is to be traced in the spiraliform signs that follow -may be more open to doubt. It is worth noting that a curious parallel -to these very ancient examples of the degeneration of the ox’s head -is to be found among the Cretan and Cypriote signs of the Minoan and -Mycenaean Age. - -[Illustration: FIG. 2.] - -But the course followed by evolution of figured representations during -the ‘Reindeer Period’ leads to another result, which also has parallels -in the history of later art, but which does not seem to be so generally -recognized. The degeneration, illustrated by Fig. 2, of more or less -complete figures into mere linear reminiscences, is very familiar -to us. It is well illustrated, for instance, in the relation of the -demotic and hieratic Egyptian signs to the hieroglyphic. But what is -sometimes forgotten is that the simple linear forms are sometimes the -older, and that, even as, I think, can be shown in the case of some of -the Egyptian hieroglyphs, the linearization of the pictorial form was -merely a going back to what had really been the original form of the -figure. I have also been struck with the same phenomenon in tracing -the genesis of some of the hieroglyphic characters of Minoan Crete. We -have only to look at the rude attempts of children to depict objects to -see that simple linear forms of what may perhaps be called the ‘slate -pencil’ style precedes the more elaborate stage of drawing. Art begins -with skeletons, and it is only a gradual proficiency that clothes them -with flesh and blood. - -[Illustration: FIG. 3.] - -So it seems to have been with the Reindeer men. It has already been -noticed that the stratigraphy of the paintings and engravings on the -Cairoan walls, as investigated by the Abbé Breuil, shows that those of -the earliest phase were line sketches of the simplest kind.[3] They -are just such as a child might draw. They seem often to have been left -incomplete from mere laziness, just so much of the figure being given -as to enable its identification. No. 9, for instance, in the table -given in Fig. 3, is a mere outline of the front of a mammoth’s head, -even the tusks and eye being omitted. No. 2 shows only a little more -of a bison’s head. The eye at the beginning of the table seems to be -human, and may be the ideograph of the individual who drew it. Besides -these recognizable sketches there are other linear representations of -the slightest kind, but which, there can be little doubt, conveyed a -definite meaning to those who drew them. Of these a certain number, -moreover, are purely alphabetiform in character. There is an X, an L, a -T upside down, and they have learned to dot their _i_’s. - -It is strange, indeed, that in the very infancy of its art mankind -should have produced the elemental figures which the most perfected -alphabetic systems have simply repeated. The elements of advanced -writing were indeed there, but the time had not yet come when their -real value could be recognized. It has only been after the lapse of -whole aeons of time, through the gradual decay and conventionalization -of a much more elaborate pictography, that civilized mankind reverted -to these ‘beggarly elements’, and literature was born. Yet it is -well to remember that the pre-existence of this old family of linear -figures, and their survival or re-birth, the world over, as simple -signs and marks, were always thus at hand to exercise a formative -influence. There may well have been a tendency for the decayed elements -of pictographic or hieroglyphic writing to assimilate themselves with -such standard linear types. - -It is certain that groups of singularly alphabetiform figures appear at -times associated with the handiwork of the ‘Reindeer Period’. A good -example of such a group is seen on the flank of a bison, painted in red -and black on a wall of the Marsoulas Cave[4] (Fig. 4). Another curious -group shows examples of the constantly recurring pectiform or -comb-shaped figure. Others have been taken to represent the roof of -some kind of hut. The only human sign is an open hand, which may be -regarded as identical with the prototype of the Phoenician ‘kaph’, the -‘palus’ sign--our k. In its pictographic form it is found among the -Cretan hieroglyphs, and a linearized version identical with ‘kaph’ -recurs among the Minoan linear characters. - -In Fig. 5[5] are collected some specimens of signs or symbolic figures -from the Cave of Castillo, on the Spanish side of the Pyrenees, showing -amongst others the ‘hand’ and some figures which may represent hats. -A remarkable group of three alphabetiform signs occurs on a fragment -of reindeer-horn discovered by M. Piette in the Cave of Gourdan.[6] -One of these shows a great resemblance to an A or Aleph. A harpoon of -reindeer-horn, again, from La Madeleine,[7] shows a group of eight -linear signs, among which we may detect, however, several repetitions. - -In the face of these and similar examples, are we to conclude with the -late M. Piette[8] that there was a regular alphabetic script during the -Pleistocene period, which in turn had been preceded by a hieroglyphic -system? - - -[Illustration: FIG. 4.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 5.] - -The artistic achievements of the men of the Reindeer Period attained -such a high level that even such a conclusion could hardly excite -surprise. In their portrayal of animal forms--in their power of seizing -the characteristic attitude of the creature represented--they show -themselves on a level with those later ‘Minoan’ artists of prehistoric -Crete and Greece who produced such masterpieces as the wild goat and -kids or the bull-hunt on the Vaphio Cups. We now know that the Minoan -race had also a highly developed form of linear script. Might not their -remote predecessors on European soil have evolved the same? - -[Illustration: FIG. 6.] - -That they had sufficient intellectual capacity to evolve a system of -writing, can hardly be doubted. There were, no doubt, some inferior -elements among the population of the Reindeer Period. It is possible -that certain low cranial types of the Neanderthal class may have -survived till late Pleistocene times; and the stratified remains, for -instance, of the Grotte des Enfants at Grimaldi, near Mentone, show -that its occupation by scions of a fine proto-European race--akin -to the ‘men of Cro-Magnon’--alternated during a certain time with -occupation by a race of negroid intruders presenting characteristics as -low as those of the Australian black men.[9] But the prevailing type -of skull associated with the interments in the Mentone Caves--those -of men with upright jaw and finely cut nose--struck no less competent -an observer than Sir E. Ray Lankester as exhibiting a perfection of -development and a cranial capacity worthy to be compared with those of -civilized Europeans of the present day. - -We must, however, still remember that, whatever the intellectual -capacity of these archaic people, they did not possess that heirloom -of the Ages, the accumulated experience of the later races of mankind. -Art, indeed, seems to have come to them by nature, and they had other -germs of civilization--an incipient cult of the dead, some taste -for personal ornament. They were possessed of a variety of arms and -implements of stone and bone and other materials. They could kindle -fire and even mitigate the darkness of their subterranean vaults with -primitive stone lamps. They seem to have been skilful trappers, and -had even learned to bridle the horse. Yet many of the most simple -acquirements of primitive culture were still unknown to them. They knew -neither the potter’s nor the weaver’s, nor the husbandman’s craft. They -went mother-naked, and their principal dwellings were the caves and -dens of the earth. - -This is emphatically not a people to be credited with an advanced form -of script. It seems more probable that the groups of linear signs that -occur should rather be regarded as mnemonic symbols, and the mere -isolated characters perhaps as individual marks. Some, it may be, had -acquired a magical value. A mnemonic series may be paralleled by the -well-known example of a mnemonic song of an Ojibway medicine-man, in -which every sign suggests a whole order of ideas. - -It is noteworthy that among the more abbreviated representations -from the hands of the men of the Reindeer Period the human figure -is little brought into play, though the eye and hand do occur. In -general, moreover, we see little of the reaction of gesture language on -their pictorial records. In a scene from the walls of the Cave of Les -Combarelles,[10] however, a male figure is depicted with a hand raised, -and the other held straight out--evidently representing some expressive -utterance of gesture language (Fig. 7). - -Another good instance of a gesture occurs among the strange anthropoid -figures with animal profiles, which, nevertheless, Messieurs -Cartailhac and Breuil consider to represent human subjects masked or -travestied.[11] On the roof of the hall of the Altamira Cave is one of -these quasi-human subjects, with the arms raised, with open palms in -front of its head, an attitude on which its discoverers justly remark: -‘It is impossible to overlook the analogy of this gesture with that -which throughout all antiquity and amongst nearly all peoples indicates -supplication or prayer.’[12] As a sign of adoration it has given rise to -the Egyptian hieroglyphic _Ka_. - -[Illustration: FIG. 7.] - -Had the men of the Reindeer Period a fully developed speech in addition -to this gesture language? That they had the elements of such, of -course, stands to reason. Mere animal cries and what may be called -‘voice signs’ might have carried them far, nor would it be possible to -say at what point the transition from such primitive methods of oral -communication to what might legitimately be called articulate speech -was overpassed. - -But there are at least some weighty reasons for doubting whether this -higher stage was really attained by Palaeolithic man. In North America, -which, like other parts of that continent, seems to have received -its first human settlers at a comparatively late geological date, a -considerable amount of physical conformity is perceptible among the -Red Indian tribes. But we are confronted by the significant fact that -this racial unity is nevertheless compatible with the existence of a -multiplicity of native tongues. It has been observed that the number -of known stocks or families of Indian languages in the United States -amounts to over three score, differing among themselves ‘as radically -as each differs from Hebrew, Chinese, or English’.[13] In each of these -linguistic families, again, there are several--sometimes as many as -twenty--separate languages, which differ again from each other as much -as do the various divisions of the ‘Aryan’ group. - -But if the original forefathers of these tribes had brought with them a -fully developed articulate speech, is it conceivable that the languages -of their descendants should be so radically different? This phenomenon, -moreover, is thrown into further relief by the fact that when we turn -to the signs and gestures current among the Red Indian tribes we find a -large common element. - -It may be that the very deficiencies in articulate speech which we may -justly assume to have existed during the Reindeer Period gave a spur to -other means of personal intercommunication. Not only would the infancy -of speech promote the use of gestures, but it may have powerfully -contributed towards diffusing the practice of making pictorial -records.[14] The possibility, therefore, does not seem to be excluded -that men drew before they talked. - -Nothing in itself is more baseless than the idea that oral language -is necessary for the expression of abstract ideas. The case of -deaf-mutes, who without the aid of speech can give expression to the -most complicated ideas, affords an example of this in the midst of a -civilized society. The study of gesture-language enables us to see how -easy and natural is the process by which the expression of abstract -ideas grows out of the imitation of concrete objects. Take the very -word to ‘grow’. An Indian expresses the notion of a tree by holding -the right hand before his body, back forwards, with the fingers spread -out--the fingers, as it were, representing branches, and his wrist the -trunk; to show that it is high he pushes it slightly upwards. For grass -he holds his hand with the fingers upwards in the sense of blades, near -the ground. In order to express the general idea ‘to grow’ he begins as -in the sign for grass, but instead of keeping his hand near the ground, -pushes it upward in an uninterrupted manner.[15] So, too, to express -falsehood he places his index and second fingers so that they separate -in front of his mouth, in order to indicate a double tongue. For truth -he places his index finger only in front, to show, if we may use the -expression, that he is ‘single-tongued’. - -Root elements of gesture language, which as a means of communication -preceded the development of articulate language as opposed to -mere emotional cries, seem themselves to be almost universal. And -picture-writing--the sister mode of expression--has also, as we see -from the example of the American Continent, even in some of its more -conventional developments, an immeasurably wider currency than the -comparatively recent growths of oral communication. In China, amongst -a great variety of mutually unintelligible languages and dialects, the -ideographic characters, which are really conventionalized pictures, and -independent of oral equivalents, supply to a great extent the place -both of gesture and spoken language. The Red Indian world, as we have -seen, is a Babel of disconnected languages, but the old sign-language -is the same, and the picture-language of one tribe is generally -intelligible to another. - -The great uniformity of simple gestures in all countries of the world -is thus a cause predisposing to a considerable amount of uniformity -among the pictorial signs into which this element enters. If we take, -for instance, that pathetic monument of picture writing, the well-known -rock-painting of the Tule River in California, we see a series of -human figures with outstretched hands, signifying, in the American -gesture-language, ‘Nothing here.’ Two outstretched arms, by -themselves, appear in the sense of negation among the conventionalized -Maya pictographs of Yucatan,[16] and the sign reappears in the -same abbreviated form, and with the same meaning, among Egyptian -hieroglyphs. So, too, the ideograph of a child or son--an infant -sucking its thumb--is found alike in ancient Egypt, China, and North -America. - -Gesture language, in fact, is constantly reacting on the pictographic -method of expression, and may be said to supply it with moods and -tenses even without the aid of words. - -It must, nevertheless, be borne in mind that simple pictography, -whether or not aided by gesture language, is one thing. The evolution -of a regular script is quite another matter. - -[Illustration: FIG. 8.] - -A conventionalized system of writing can only be thought of in -connexion with a highly developed articulate speech. And this was -certainly the achievement of a later world than that of these old -Palaeolithic hunters. The physical condition now changes. The -characteristic fauna of the Reindeer Period disappears, and with it -the remarkable race to whom were due the first known products of high -art. The close of the Pleistocene Age and the beginning of the New Era -is marked in France by a curious deposit in the Cave of Mas d’Azil, on -the left bank of the Arize, in which its explorer, M. Piette, found -a number of flat oblong pebbles marked with red stripes and simple -figures by means of peroxide of iron.[17] M. Piette has endeavoured -to trace in some of these a definite system of numeration by means -of lines and circles, and even particular signs for a thousand, ten -thousand, and a million. That some of these represent simple numerical -markings is possible, but beyond this point it is impossible to follow -M. Piette. Among the other markings are several, sometimes repeated -on the same pebble, of curiously alphabetiform aspect. Among these -are signs resembling our E, F, and L, a Gothic M, the Greek _Theta_, -_Gamma_, _Epsilon_, _Xi_ and _Sigma_, the Phoenician _Cheth_, and some -terms that occur in the Minoan and Cypriote series. - -The occurrence of this series of geometrical marks must be regarded as -another proof of how early such alphabetic prototypes originated. The -Mas d’Azil series has no particular connexion with the linear signs -associated with the handiwork of the Reindeer Period. Their meaning is -obscure. Some may be degraded pictographs, often perhaps of animals -or their parts, with a traditional meaning attached to them. Some may -be of purely individual and arbitrary invention. The numbers on the -pebbles have suggested the view that they may have served for games. -On the other hand, it is by no means improbable that the figures had a -magic value, and Mr. A. B. Cook[18] has called attention to the parallel -presented by the Australian deposits of pebbles called _Churingas_, -connected with the departed spirits of a tribe, and having designs of -a totemic character. It is certain that the people who produced these -coloured pebbles were in a rude state of barbarism far below the gifted -race who had preceded them in the same sheltering cavern. Few will -probably be able to follow M. Piette in discerning in these rudely -executed marks actual letters--at any rate with a syllabic value--and -the true ancestors of the Greek and Phoenician alphabets, or in -regarding the Cave of Mas d’Azil ‘as one vast school where the scholars -learnt to read, to reckon, to write, and to know the religious symbols -of the solar god’. - -The deposit of Mas d’Azil containing the coloured pebbles belongs -already to the modern world, the fauna associated with it all belonging -to existing species inhabiting the temperate regions. The rude culture -then exhibited heralds the beginning of the Neolithic Period. This -later Stone Age is not characterized by any of the artistic genius -displayed by the men of the Reindeer Period. Figured representations -are now rare. The caves, moreover, which preserved the earlier records, -were now used more for sepulture than habitation. Yet the analogy of -all primitive races at the present day shows that it would be a mistake -to suppose that, though the act may have been rude, the practice of -picture-writing was not still universally in vogue throughout the -European area. We have to bear in mind how many of such records are -consigned to perishable materials--such as bark or hides, or in the -case of tattooing the human body itself. - -During the later prehistoric times, and notably during the Early Metal -Age, many abiding records, in the shape of rock-sculptures, paintings, -and engravings, and at times graffiti on pottery, are found diffused -throughout the whole of our Continent and the adjoining Mediterranean -area; and in outlying regions, such as Lapland, the practice of -picture-writing can be traced down to modern times. - -Though a large amount of isolated materials exists on this subject, -the evidence, so far as I am aware, has never been put together in -a systematic manner. Yet it seems possible that, by means of a due -co-ordination of the materials and the application of the comparative -method, the European area may eventually be divided into distinct zones -or provinces, each characterized by its certain typical pictographic -feature. Primitive lines of intercommunication may with great -probability be made out, and evidences of early racial extension come -to light by this method of investigation. - -[Illustration: FIG. 9.] - -It is interesting to observe that it is in the extreme north of Europe, -where the conditions most approach those of the Reindeer Period, -that purely pictographic methods have remained the longest. The Lapp -troll drums, used as a means of divination by the native shamans, -show a variety of linear figures and symbols which had a traditional -interpretation. Thus in the simple example given in Fig. 9, taken from -Scheffer’s _Lapponia_,[19] we see, in the upper compartment, according -to the interpretation preserved by Scheffer, four Lapp gods, with rayed -heads, one of them identified with the Norsk Thor, above which are the -crescent moon, twelve stars, indicated by crossed lines, and seven -flying birds--resembling the simplification of the same figures seen in -the Cretan linear script. - -On another base are three more sacred figures with rayed heads, -signifying Christ and two apostles, taken into the Lapp Pantheon at a -somewhat lower level. The centre of this compartment is occupied by the -sun, and about the field are depicted a reindeer, wolf, bear, ox, fox, -squirrel, and snake. To the right are three wavy lines representing a -lake and exactly reproducing the Egyptian hieroglyph of ‘water’. - -Fig. 10 shows a more elaborate example,[20] of which the interpretation -has not been supplied. The variation of gesture displayed, somewhat -rudely it is true, by the various figures on this drum illustrates -the intimate and ever-recurring connexion between pictography and -gesture-language. - -These Lapp troll drums must have been generally in use till the end -of the seventeenth century. It was not, indeed, till the middle -of the succeeding century that Christianity took a real hold on -the population. That there has been a considerable survival of -surreptitious heathenism among the Lapps, I myself was able to -ascertain during two journeys undertaken with that object through -Finnish and Russian Lapland in 1874, and again in 1876. It was -specially interesting to observe that some of the traditional figures -seen on the old troll drums are still engraved on the reindeer-horn -spoons of that region. - -[Illustration: FIG. 10.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 11.] - -The troll drums of the Lapps find their analogy in those of the -kindred Samojed tribes to the East, which present figures of the -same class. But the pictographs on these will be found to fit on -to the rock-carvings or petroglyphs of Siberia, first described by -Strahlenberg, of which a specimen is given in Fig. 12.[21] Similar rock -carvings may be traced through a vast Finno-Ugrian or Mongolian region -to the borders of China, and the Chinese characters themselves must -have arisen from a branch of the same great Northern family. - -This Finno-Tataric province of primitive pictography touches the -Atlantic in Northern Norway. In the south of the Scandinavian -Peninsula we have numerous examples of picture-writing in the shape of -carving,[22] mainly belonging to the Bronze Age, either on rocks or on -the slabs of sepulchral barrows. Of the latter class are the well-known -examples from the Cairn of Kivik, on the east coast of Scania, and the -rock-carvings extend through Southern Norway and Denmark. The most -remarkable of all are probably those of Bohuslan, of which an example, -in which ships figure largely, is shown in Fig. 13.[23] - -[Illustration: FIG. 12.] - -In our own islands there is also evidence during the Bronze Age of -the practice of engraving signs and pictographic figures on rocks and -the slabs of sepulchral cists and chambers. Those found in England -and Scotland consist for the most part of mere geometrical figures, -such as concentric circles with connecting lines, the more elaborate -figures found in the Fife Caves,[24] for example, certainly belonging to -the Late Celtic Period. But in Ireland, then raised, by its abundant -output of gold, to the position of a Western Eldorado, the field of -primitive pictography is richer. The slabs of the chambered tumuli -of Sleive-na-Calligha present groups of elaborate figures;[25] but a -special interest attaches to those discernible in the great chambered -barrow of New Grange. As was pointed out by Mr. Coffey,[26] one of the -principal figures here carved represents in a degraded form a ship with -its crew analogous to those so constantly repeated in the Scandinavian -group (Fig. 14). This coincidence becomes the more suggestive when we -recall the existence of a whole series of finds showing a connexion -between Ireland and Denmark and its neighbour-lands during the -Bronze Age. - -These parallels extend to Brittany. The rocks and sepulchral slabs of -the old Armoric region also present, as is well known, a considerable -pictographic material, dating from Neolithic and Early Metal Ages. -Among recently discovered remains of this class may be mentioned a -group of curious inscribed rocks near Saint-Aubin in Vendée,[27] the -carvings on which seem to show some analogy with the menhirs of the -Aveyron, the dolmens of the Gard, and the caves of the Marne. On -these, besides conventionalized linear figures of men and animals, -occur a variety of unexplained signs, some of them of a remarkably -alphabetiform character. - -[Illustration: FIG. 13.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 14.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 15.] - -It is among the sculptured slabs of the Morbihan dolmens that we find -the immediate pendant to the ship signs of Ireland and Scandinavia. -On slabs of the chambered barrow of Manné Lud, near Locmariaker, -there appears--beside stone axes, hafted and unhafted, and other -figures--what is evidently the same ship sign as that of New Grange, in -various stages of degeneration, finally resulting in simple crescents -with recurved ends (Fig. 16).[28] It is true that the associations of -these Breton dolmens end with the close of the Neolithic period, but -the archaeological evidence shows that this was overlapped by the Early -Metal Age of Ireland. - -[Illustration: FIG. 16.] - -South of the Pyrenees similar records of primitive pictography -largely associated again in this case with the builders of dolmens -and chambered barrows extend through a large part of the Iberian -Peninsula. Some stir was recently made by the reported discovery of -characters on the slabs and content of certain Portuguese dolmens -of Traz-os-Montes,[29] which were supposed to constitute a kind of -alphabet or syllabary. The accounts of these discoveries, however, -lack scientific precision, and though many of the characters found -are certainly of alphabetiform type, there can be no doubt that -these, together with the rude zoomorphic figures with which they are -associated, belong to a much simpler stage of graphic expression. - -[Illustration: FIG. 17.] - -In the south of Spain the chain of evidence is continued by the -‘Written Stones’ of Andalusia. The signs here are often painted in red, -in a rude manner, on the slabs of megalithic structures, such as the -Piedra Escrita near Fuencaliente,[30] (Figs. 17, 18). The signs include -a variety of men and animals, symbols of the heavenly bodies, trees, -arms, and implements, and other objects. Amongst some curious analogies -that they present with the contemporary pictographs of Northern and -North-Western Europe, may be noticed certain figures that resemble -linear degenerations of the Ship and Crew sign (see Fig. 17). - -The Andalusian pictographs find their continuation beyond the straits -in another widely diffused group of ‘Written Stones’, the _Hadjrat -Mektoubat_[31] of the Arabs, extending through Algeria and Morocco into -the Saharan region and along the Atlantic littoral to the Canaries.[32] - -[Illustration: FIG. 18.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 19.] - -To return to the European shores of the Mediterranean, a remarkable -group of prehistoric rock-carvings already known in mediaeval times as -the Maraviglie, or ‘Marivels’,[33] is found near the Col di Tenda in the -Maritime Alps--in the neighbourhood, that is, of a very old line of -communication between Provence and the Po Valley. The earliest known -groups of these figures lay at an elevation of between 7,000 and 8,000 -feet about the Laghi delle Maraviglie, in the heart of Monte Bego.[34] -More recently a still more extensive series has been discovered by -Mr. Clarence Bicknell, cut like the others in the glaciated schist -rocks and at a similar lofty elevation in the neighbouring Val di -Fontanalba.[35] I have myself visited a more outlying group at Orco -Feglino[36] in the Finalese, only a few miles from the Ligurian coast. - -These figures, of which examples are given in Figs. 19 and 20, -represent oxen, often engaged in ploughing, and men in various -positions, sometimes brandishing weapons and apparently signalling, and -a variety of arms, implements, and other objects. Among the weapons, -the halberds and daggers are characteristic of the earlier part of the -Bronze Age,[37] and it is noteworthy that the sword which characterized -the later phase of that culture is entirely absent. The figures of -the oxen ploughing are depicted as if seen from above--a circumstance -explained by the way in which these rock terraces look down on the -cultivated lands below.[38] Many of these oxen are conventionalized to -such an extent that they have rather the appearance of rude figures of -scorpions or beetles with tails. - -The same figures are often repeated in the schist slopes, and we -have not here such connected groups as we see, for instance, on the -sculptured slabs of Scandinavia. The picture-signs of the Maraviglie -had perhaps a votive intention. It seems to me that some of the figures -may represent packs, and that merchants as well as warriors and tillers -of the soil took part in their representations. - -The records of primitive pictography extend to the Vosges and Jura, -and reappear east of the Adriatic. In a fiord of the Bocche di -Cattaro, not far from the site of Rhisinium, the capital of the old -Illyrian kingdom, my own explorations were rewarded by the discovery -of a curious group of painted signs on a rock-face above a sacred -grotto, and in a somewhat inaccessible position. They consisted -mainly of animals and varieties of the swastika sign. That they -were of pre-Christian date may be regarded as certain, but a fuller -investigation of them at my own hands was cut short by _force majeure_. - -Up to the present the old pictography of the lands between the Adriatic -and the Black Sea and the lower Danubian basin is best illustrated -by the linear incised figures found on the primitive pottery of that -region. The best collection of such signs is due to the researches of -Fräulein Torma, at Broos, in Transylvania. In view of the ethnic and -archaeological connexions which are shown to have existed between the -lower Danubian regions and the western part of Asia, it is specially -interesting to note the analogies that these Transylvanian graffiti -present with those noted by Schliemann on the whorls and pottery of -Hissarlik (Fig. 21).[39] Both groups, moreover, belong approximately -to the same epoch, marked by the transition from the Neolithic to the -Early Metal Age. - -[Illustration: FIG. 20.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 21.] - -That many of these signs are linearistic degenerations of animal and -other figures is clear, and such figures may be reasonably considered -to have an ideographic sense. But from this to investing the marks on a -primitive whorl or pot with a definite phonetic value, and proceeding -to read them off by the aid of the Cypriote syllabary of the Greek -language as it existed some two thousand years later, can only be -described as a far cry. Linearized signs of altogether alphabetic -appearance belong, as already shown, to the very beginnings of human -culture. In the case of the whorls, moreover, many of the linear -figures are really repetitions of similar marks due to the decay of -a border pattern--a phenomenon already paralleled by some of the -engraved groups of the Reindeer Period. A recurring decorative fragment -of this kind somewhat resembles, according to the progressive stages -of its decadence, the Cypriote _go_, _ti_, or _re_--a circumstance -productive of readings by eminent scholars[40] containing vain -repetitions of _go go_, _ti ti_, and _re re_. - -If we turn to Crete, the source of the developed pre-Phoenician scripts -of Greece and the Aegean world, we find evidence of the same primitive -stratum of linearized pictography. But the true hieroglyphic script, in -which the phonetic element is apparently already present, in addition -to the ideographic, displays other features which lie beyond the scope -of our present theme. In the advanced linear scripts which grow out -of this, and which certainly have a largely phonetic basis, we mark a -regularity of arrangement and a definite setting forth of word-groups -altogether different from the phenomena presented by the elemental -figures of primitive pictography. The Phoenician and later Greek -alphabet carries us a step further. - -But the conventionalized pictography of Crete, if it does not give us -the actual source of the later Phoenician letters, at least supplies -the best illustration of the elements out of which it was evolved. -And it will be seen, from what has been already said, that the more -primitive field of pictography, out of which this conventionalized -Cretan system arose, is itself only a branch of a widely diffused -European family of picture-writing, of which the records can be traced -from Lapland to the Straits of Gibraltar, and from the Atlantic to the -Aegean, and which finds again its continuation on the African and the -Asiatic side. - -There seems to be a kind of hazy notion that though an elaborate system -of pictography may have been current among the American Indians, for -example, the alphabet, or for that matter the Cretan script, came -to Greece as a kind of gift of the gods, and was taken over by a -population that had no graphic means of communication. It is true that -the earlier records of such, owing to their having been largely on -perishable materials, such as bark or hides, may in many cases be -irrecoverable. But we may be sure that they existed throughout the -Aegean lands, as elsewhere. Nay, it was because they not only existed, -but had already reached a comparatively advanced stage, that the -acceptation of such a highly developed system of writing as that of -the Phoenician alphabet was rendered possible. Even the forms of the -letters must themselves have been largely familiar, since, as we have -seen, the use of the linearized signs of the purest alphabetiform -character goes back to what in many respects must be regarded as -another world, and to a time, it may be, when articulate language was -itself but imperfectly developed. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] I may refer to my forthcoming publication, _Scripta Minoa_, -Clarendon Press, Oxford. - -[2] ‘Exemples de figures dégénérées et stylisées à l’époque du -Renne.’ (_Congrès International d’Anthropologie et d’Archéologie -préhistoriques_, 1906. Compte Rendu, t. i, pp. 394 seqq.) - -[3] ‘L’Évolution de l’Art Pariétal des Cavernes de l’Âge du Renne.’ -(_C.r. du Congrès d’Anthropologie, etc._, 1906, t. i, pp. 367 seqq.) -Fig. 3 is taken from this (p. 370, Fig. 120). - -[4] E. Cartailhac et l’Abbé H. Breuil, ‘Les peintures et gravures -murales des Cavernes Pyrénéennes, II. Marsoulas.’ _Anthropologie_, xvi -(1905), pp. 431 seqq. Fig. 4 is taken from p. 438, Fig. 8. - -[5] Alcalde del Rio, _Las Pinturas y Grabados de las Cavernas -prehistóricas de la Provincia de Santander_, 1906. Fig. 5 is taken from -_Anthropologie_, xvii (1906), p. 145, Fig. 3. - -[6] E. Piette, ‘Les Écritures de l’Âge glyptique.’ _Anthropologie_, -xvi, p. 8, Fig. 9. - -[7] _Reliquiae Aquitanicae_, B, Pl. XXVI, Fig. 10. - -[8] Op. cit., p. 9. - -[9] See R. Verneau, ‘L’Anthropologie des Grottes de Grimaldi.’ -(_Congrès International d’Anthropologie, etc._, 1906, pp. 114 seqq.) - -[10] Capitan, Breuil et Peyrony, ‘Figures anthropomorphes ou humaines -de la Caverne des Combarelles.’ _Congrès International d’Anthropologie, -etc._, 1906, pp. 408 seqq. (See p. 411, Fig. 149.) - -[11] It is perhaps worth making the suggestion that these -anthropomorphic figures with their animal snouts may in some cases -be caricatures, at the hands of the ‘Men of Cro-Magnon’, of the low -negroid element of the population--the ‘Men of Grimaldi’ of Dr. -Verneau--with their markedly prognathous jaws and broad nostrils. - -[12] _Anthropologie_, xv (1904), p. 638. - -[13] _Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_, 1879-80, p. 312. - -[14] Cf. Lucretius, v. 1030, 1031 ‘ipsa videtur Protrahere ad gestum -pueros infantia linguae’. - -[15] For smoke the same, but undulating. The sign is also used for fire. - -[16] Garrick Mallery. - -[17] E. Piette, ‘Les Galets Coloris de Mas d’Azil’ (_Anthropologie_, -vii, pp. 386 seqq.), and ‘Les Écritures de l’Âge glyptique’ (op. cit., -xvi, pp. 1 seqq.). - -[18] _Anthropologie_, t. xiv (1905), pp. 655 seqq. - -[19] Ed. 1672, p. 125. A. - -[20] Scheffer, op. cit. p. 129--see Fig. - -[21] P. J. von Strahlenberg, _Description of the North and Eastern -Parts of Europe and Asia_ (English Edition, 1738, Table VII). - -[22] Cf., _inter alia_, A. E. Holmberg, _Scandinaviens Hällristningar_ -(1848) (who wrongly referred them to the Viking Period); Hildebrand, -‘Forsök till Förklaring ofver Hällristningar’ (_Antiquarisk Tiskscrift -för Sverige_, ii); Montelius, ‘Sur les Sculptures de Rochers de la -Suède,’ _Compte rendu du Congrès d’Anthropologie et d’Archéologie -préhistoriques_, Stockholm, 1874, pp. 453 seqq.; N. G. Bruzelius, ‘Sur -les rochers sculptés découverts en Scanie’ (_ibid._, pp. 475 seqq.). - -[23] _C.r. Congrès, etc._, Stockholm, vol. i, p. 466, Fig. 22. - -[24] Sir J. G. Simpson, _British Archaic Sculpturing_, Plates XXXIV, -XXXV. - -[25] Op. cit., Pl. XXVII. - -[26] ‘On the Tumuli and Inscribed Stones at New Grange,’ Dowth and -Knowth, pp. 32 seqq. (_Trans. of R. I. Academy_, 1892.) - -[27] Capitan, Breuil et Charbonneau-Lassay, ‘Les Rochers gravés -de Vendée’ (_Bull._, 1904, _Acad. Inscript. Paris_); and see E. -Cartailhac, _Anthropologie_, xvi, pp. 192, 193, who inclines to refer -the group of monuments with which the authors compare the Vendée rocks -to the Neolithic Period. - -[28] See Coffey (op. cit., p. 33, Fig. 24), who first pointed out the -analogy with New Grange. Compare another sculptured slab of the same -dolmen reproduced by D. A. Mauricet (_Étude sur le Manné Lud_, Vannes, -1864, Plates VII-IX). Similar ‘ship’ signs occur on the slabs of Mein -Drein. - -[29] Ricardo Severo, ‘As Necropoles Dolmenicas di Traz-os-Montes’ -(_Portugalia_ t. i. Oporto, 1903). - -[30] Don Manuel de Góngora y Martinez, _Antigüedades prehistóricas de -Andalucía_, pp. 64 seqq. - -[31] Among recent contributions to our knowledge of this North -African group may be mentioned G. B. M. Flamand, ‘Les Pierres Écrites -(Hadjrat Mektoubat) du Nord d’Afrique et spécialement de la région -d’In-Salah’ (_Congrès International d’Anthropologie et d’Archéologie -préhistoriques_, Paris, 1900). - -[32] S. Berthelot, _Bull. de la Soc. Géogr. de Paris_, 1875. - -[33] They were first mentioned about 1650 by P. Gioffredo, _Storia -delle Alpi Marittime_. - -[34] The _Maraviglie_ were first scientifically described by Mr. F. G. -S. Moggridge (_Trans. of Congress of Preh. Arch._ 1868, pp. 309 seqq.). -See, too, L. Clugnet, _Matériaux_, xii. 1877, pp. 379 seqq.; Issel, -_Bull. di Pal. It._, 1901. - -[35] C. Bicknell, _The Prehistoric Rock Engravings of the Italian -Maritime Alps_, Bordighera, 1902 and 1903. - -[36] I visited the spot in 1893 under the guidance of Padre Amerano of -Finalmarina. - -[37] See my remarks in the _Athenaeum_, December 18, 1897. - -[38] C. Bicknell, op. cit., pp. 38, 39. - -[39] _Ilios_, Whorl No. 1983. - -[40] Professor Sayce, however, _Ilios_, p. 696, takes note of the -possibility that such inscriptions as _go-go-ti-re_ ‘may be intended -for ornament’. - - - - -LECTURE II - -HOMER AND ANTHROPOLOGY - - -In B. R.’s Elizabethan translation of the two first books of Herodotus -a marginal note to a startling statement about Egyptian manners begs -us to ‘Observe ye Beastly Devices of ye Heathen’. Though Anthropology, -as its name indicates, takes all that is human for its province, it -certainly pays most attention to ‘Ye Devices’--beastly or not--of the -savage or barbarian, and to their survival in civilized societies, -ancient and modern. Now, as far as these primaeval devices go, Homer -has wonderfully little to tell us. Though he is by far the most ancient -Greek author extant, it is in all the literature which follows after -him that we find most survivals of the barbarian and the savage. -Even in the few fragments of the so-called Cyclic poets (800-650 -B.C.?), and in the sketches of the plots of the Cyclic poems -which have reached us, there are survivals of barbaric customs--for -example, of human sacrifice, and the belief in phantasms of the dead, -even when the dead have been properly burned and buried--which do not -appear in the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_. The tragedians, the lyric -poets, and the rest, all allude to vices which Homer never mentions--to -amours of the gods in bestial forms (in all probability a survival -of Totemism in myth), to a revolting rite of sanguinary purification -from the guilt of homicide, and to many other distressing vestiges of -savagery and barbarism in the society of ancient Greece. We do not find -these things in the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_. - -It is not easily conceivable that Homer was ignorant of any of these -things; probably they existed in certain strata of society in his age. -But he ignores them. They are not to be mentioned to his audience. -No incest or cannibalism, in _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, is reported -concerning ‘Atreus’ line’, though later poets do not hesitate to -use the traditional materials from the fossiliferous strata of myth -wherein these survivals were plentiful. Pindar knew tales of divine -cannibalism, but merely referred to them as unworthy of his verse. -Homer must have been familiar with the savage cosmogonic legends, -almost identical with those of the Maori of New Zealand, which Hesiod -does not scruple to state openly; but about such things Homer is silent. - -Here I must explain that though to ‘Homer’ early historic Greece -attributed the great body of ancient epic poetry, I am speaking only -of the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_. I wish I could keep clear of the complex -‘Homeric Question’, but this is hardly possible. Everybody knows that, -since the appearance of Wolf’s famous Prolegomena to the _Iliad_, at -the end of the eighteenth century, the world has been of opposite -opinions as to the origin of the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_. Poets, and -almost all who read the poems, as other literature is read, ‘for human -pleasure,’ hold that at least the mass of these epics is by one hand, -and, of course, is of one age. On the other side, the immense majority -of scholars and special students who have written on the subject -maintain (with endless differences in points of detail) that the -_Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ had their beginning in a brief early ‘kernel’, -and are now a mosaic of added lays and interpolations, contributed -by many hands, in many places, through at least four changeful -centuries of various cultures. How the poems came to have what even -Wolf recognized as their _unus color_, the harmony of their picture -of institutions, customs, rites, costume, and belief, is variously -explained. By some critics the harmony is denied. They try to pick out -proofs of many various stages in institutions, customs, beliefs, arms, -and armour, and so forth. As a rule these critics, however scholarly, -have not been, and are not, comparative students of early literature, -of anthropology, archaeology, and mythology. Their microscopic research -finds but few and minute variations from the normal in such things as -burial, bride-price, houses, armour, and so forth. If they studied -other early poetic literature--say the Icelandic sagas and the oldest -Irish romances--they would learn that minute variations in such matters -of life occur in every stage of civilization; that every house, every -funeral, every detail of marriage laws and other laws, is not precisely -on the pattern of every other, and that mythology and ideas about the -future life are especially various and even self-contradictory, at any -given period. For these reasons I agree with Wolf that harmony, _unus -color_, prevails in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, which must therefore be -the product of one age. - -But to this some adverse critics reply that harmony, indeed, there may -be, but that it results, first from the influence of tradition--each -new poet adhered to the old formulae without conscious effort--and, -next, that the later poets deliberately and learnedly _archaized_, -consciously studied the descriptions, and maintained the tone of their -predecessors, while at the same time they as deliberately introduced -the novelties of their own time. This is their logic. Their double -theory is untenable--first, because it is self-contradictory; next, -because in all known early art and literature the poet or painter, -treating ancient themes, dresses the past in the costume of the present -with which he is familiar. To archaize is a very modern effort in art, -as all early literature and every large picture-gallery prove. As for -unconscious adherence to tradition, it leads to the repetition of epic -formulae and standing epithets; but later poets, and uncritical ages, -when they describe a more ancient life, always copy the life of their -own time. We see too that late learned poets who archaized--Apollonius -Rhodius, Virgil, even Quintus Smyrnaeus--while they do their best to -imitate Homer, cannot keep up the _unus color_, but betray themselves -in a myriad details: for example, Virgil arms his Greeks and Trojans -with iron weapons, and Apollonius introduces the ritual purification of -blood with blood, ignored by Homer. - -Even in the Cyclic poems, of which only a few fragments and prose -synopses remain, Helbig, and Monro, and every reader, find what Helbig -calls ‘data absolutely opposed to the conventional style of the Epics’, -of the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_. We find hero-worship, human sacrifice, -gods making love in bestial forms, conspicuous ghosts of men duly -burned, and so on. Now, if we believe with Mr. Verrall that ‘Homer’, -so called, was a nebulous mass of old poetry, reduced into distinct -bodies, such as _Iliad_, _Odyssey_, _Cypria_, _Aethiopis_, _Little -Iliad_, _Nostoi_, and so on, for educational purposes, by learned -Athenians, about 600-500 B.C., or if we suppose, with others, -that the Ionians, for educational purposes, Bowdlerized _Iliad_ and -_Odyssey_, at an earlier date, we ask, Why were _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ -expurgated; why were many ‘devices of the heathen’ cut out of them by -‘educationists’ who permitted these things to remain in the Cyclic -poems? Was it because the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ alone were cut out -of the mass, and selected for public recitation? If so, why was the -selection made, and the expurgation done, in these two cases only? And -do we know that the Cyclics were not recited? If so, why not? What -was the use of them? Again, why was Hesiod not Bowdlerized? Hesiod -certainly entered into public knowledge no less than Homer. Finally, if -the taste of the seventh and sixth centuries were so pure and austere, -why were the poets of the seventh and sixth centuries so rich in -matters which the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ omit? In no Greek literature -of any age do we find the clean austerity of Homer, for example, as -regards sins against nature, the permanent blot on the civilization of -historic Greece. The theory of educational expurgation in the eighth to -the sixth centuries is impossible on all sides. The Cyclics and Hesiod -were generally known, yet were not expurgated into harmony with the -Homeric tone; the contemporary poets of these educational ages did not -conform to the Homeric tone. Moreover, there is no ‘record’ evidence, -with Mr. Verrall’s pardon, for all this editing by educationists. There -is no inscription bearing witness to it--_that_, and that alone, would -be ‘record’--there is only a late and shifting tradition that, about -the time between the ages of Solon and the Pisistratidae, something -indefinite was done at Athens for ‘Homer’. For how much of ‘Homer’? For -all old epic poetry, or only for the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_? If for them -alone, why for them alone? - -I am thus constrained to suppose that the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_, on -the whole, are the fruit of a single age, a peculiar age, an age prior -to the earliest period of Greek life as historically known to us. If it -be not so, if these epics are mosaics of life in four or five centuries -of change, compiled for purposes of education by learned Athenians, -it seems that they are worthless to the anthropologist and to the -historical student of manners and institutions. If the poems contain -scores of archaized passages, in which the poets deliberately neglect -the life which they know (while at the same time in other passages they -deliberately innovate), then the poems are of no anthropological value. -The statements of the critics are self-contradictory, which I still -think proves them to be illogical; and in speaking of Homer I shall -treat him as a witness to a genuine stage of society in prehistoric -Greece and Asia. - -As to date, the poems quite undeniably are derived from that late -stage of Mycenaean or Minoan civilization which has been revealed by -the excavations of Mr. Arthur Evans in Crete, and Dr. Schliemann at -Mycenae, and of many other explorers of Homeric sites. The decoration -of the palaces of Alcinous and Menelaus; the art of the goldsmith, the -use of chariots in war, the shape and size of the huge Homeric shield; -the cuirass, _zoster_, and _mitrê_ of the warriors, the weapons -of bronze described in Homer, all correspond with objects discovered -or delineated in works of art of the late Minoan period in Greece and -Crete. But Homeric customs of all sorts also vary much from the facts -of the Minoan archaeologist. The monuments of the late Minoan Age -reveal modes of burial wholly unlike the Homeric practice of cremation -and interment of the bones in lofty tumuli or barrows. They prove the -existence of sacrifice to the dead, which Homer ignores. They display -fashions of costume quite alien to the Homeric world. They yield none -of the iron tools of peaceful purpose with which Homer is perfectly -familiar. They furnish abundance of stone arrowheads, which are never -mentioned in the Epics. - -The conclusion suggested is that Homer knew a people living on the -ancient Minoan sites, and retaining much of the Minoan art, much of -the military material, but advanced into a peculiar form of the Early -Bronze Age; clad in quite a new fashion, practising another form of -burial, entertaining other beliefs about death and the dead, but still -retaining the flowing locks often represented in pictures of men in -Minoan art. - -The use of body armour too is in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ universal -in regular war; from the rarity of delineation thereof in Minoan art -this appears to be another innovation. Homer is quite conscious that -he is singing of events gathered from legends of a time long before -his day, a time with which he is in touch, which has bequeathed much -to his age, but which, we see, is in some respects less advanced -than and in many ways different from his own. He attributes to the -old legendary heroes, however, the institutions with which he -is familiar--institutions that are not those of any known period -of historic Greece. They are no figments of fancy. They closely -correspond, as far as form of government is concerned, with the -early feudalism described in the oldest Irish epical romances, and -in the French _chansons de geste_ of the eleventh to the thirteenth -century A.D. We find an Over Lord, like the Celtic _Ardrigh_, or the -_Bretwalda_ in early England, ruling over Princes (_Ri_), with an -acknowledged sway, limited by unwritten conventions. He holds, as Mr. -Freeman says of the Bretwalda, ‘an acknowledged, though probably not -very well defined, supremacy.’ His rule is hereditary; the sceptre is -handed down through the male line. Zeus has given him the sceptre, and -he confessedly rules, like Charlemagne even in the later _chansons de -geste_, by right divine. He has the Zeus-given sceptre, and he has the -_θέμιστες_, a knowledge of ‘a recognized body of principles and customs -which had grown up in practice’ (_Iliad_ ix. 99). - -The origin of the Over Lord, as of all kingship, may be traced -to a combination of sagacity, courage, and experience in war, in -an individual, and to his consequent acquirement of property and -influence, _plus_ the survival of the prestige of the medicine man, to -whom the ruling supernormal Being of the tribe is supposed to speak. -A very low example is the Dieri medicine man inspired by Kutchi; an -elevated example is the Homeric Minos, who converses with Zeus. Even -the dream of Agamemnon is worthy of respect, says Nestor, ‘because -he has seen it who boasts himself to be the best of the Achaeans’; -another man’s dream might be disregarded (_Iliad_ ii. 80-83). However, -Agamemnon does not lay stress on such communications; Calchas is the -regular interpreter of omens and the will of the gods. A divinity doth -hedge Agamemnon, though Achilles half draws his sword against him. He -has the right to summon the whole host, and to exact fines for absence; -he has the lion’s share of all spoils of war; he is war leader, but -always consults his peers, the paladins of Charlemagne. From him much -that is not easily tolerable is endured, but, if he goes too far in his -arrogance, a prince or peer has the recognized right, like Achilles, to -throw up his allegiance. By due gifts of atonement, of which the rules -are ceremonially minute (_Iliad_ xix. 215-75), the Over Lord may place -himself within his right again, and he who refuses the atonement is -recognized to be in his wrong. The whole passage about the minutiae of -atonement in _Iliad_ xix delays the action, and is censured by critics -as ‘late’. But it cannot be late, it could only have been composed for -a noble audience keenly interested in the customary laws under which -they lived, laws unknown to historic Greece. We are accustomed to -similar prolixity and minuteness about points of law in the Icelandic -sagas. - -It has been said that Homer, an Asiatic poet of the ninth century -B.C., lived imaginatively in, say, the thirteenth century, B.C. as Mr. -William Morris imaginatively ‘lived in’ the thirteenth and fourteenth -centuries A.D. But Morris came after Sir Walter Scott, who introduced -the imaginative archaeological reconstruction of past ages by poets and -artists. Shakespeare did not ‘live in’ any age but his own. His Hamlet -fights with the Elizabethan long rapier, not with short sword and axe. -Homer, too, lives in his own sub-Minoan age, and in that alone. - -The poets of this age of loose feudalism are always partial to the -princes rather than to the Over Lord. The Irish romance writers much -prefer the chivalrous Diarmaid, or Oscar, to Fionn, the Over Lord, and -the later writers of _chansons de geste_ in France utterly degrade -Charlemagne in favour of his paladins. - -Greek, Irish, or French, the poets have a professional motive: there -are many courts of princes wherein they may sing, but only one court -of the Over Lord. In this partisanship Homer is relatively moderate; -his Agamemnon is perhaps the most subtle of all his portraits; -unsympathetic as is the Over Lord, his Zeus-given supremacy always -wins for him respect. The whole picture of Over Lord and princes is a -genuine historical document, a thing of a single age of culture, far -behind the condition of the Ionian colonists. The princes themselves -owe their position to birth, wealth, and courage. Except Aias and -Odysseus, chiefs of rocky isles, all own abundance of chariots. They -are surrounded by a class of gentry (the Irish _Flaith_) who are also -fighters from chariots, and stand out above the nameless members of the -host. It is they (_Iliad_ ix. 574) who promise to Meleager a demesne -out of the common land. I conceive that such a τέμενος, or demesne, was -much more than a κλῆρος, or ‘lot’; he was a very poor man who had no -lot (_Odyssey_ xi. 490). Probably the gentry, or γέροντες, had their -gift of a τέμενος, or demesne, ratified in the popular assembly, which, -I think, did no more than ratify their decisions. - -The gentry held rich fields, ‘very remote from any town’ (_Iliad_ -xxiii. 832-5). Society was feudal or chivalrous, not democratic. It is -true, as Mr. Ridgeway says (_J. H. S._, vi. 319-39) that we do not hear -of land in the lists of a man’s possessions, but of livestock, gold, -iron, and chariots and arms. On the other hand, the gentry certainly -held rich fields remote from the cities. - -We have no clear light on Homeric land-tenure, but land was held by -individuals, in firm possession, if not in property; a prince like -Menelaus has whole cities to give away. If a prince lent stock to the -owner of a lot, and if the owner became bankrupt, the lot, legally or -illegally, would glide into the possession of the prince. - -The people were free, like the lotless man who employs -labourers--_their_ situation is not clear--and like the -artisans--smiths, carpenters, workers in gold--and the slaves, men and -women, were captives in war, or persons kidnapped by pirates--though -they may have been of high rank at home, like the swineherd Eumaeus. In -war it was open to a man to kill a prisoner or to set him at ransom, as -in the Middle Ages. The various crafts had their regular professors, -though it pleased Odysseus to be a master of all of them, from -ploughing to shipbuilding. - -It was a very tolerable state of society; slaves were well treated; -women, of course, held a position high above what was theirs in -historic Greece. True, they were usually purchased with a bride-price; -but the lofty level of their morality, infinitely above that of Europe -in the age of chivalry, suggests that men allowed a free choice to -their daughters. - -No woman sells herself; there is not a harlot in Homer, common as they -are in the earliest records of Israel. No doubt they existed, but the -poet eschews mention of them. Here, as everywhere, the austerity of -his tone, though he is not a Puritan, makes him far from an exhaustive -authority on manners and customs. To him, as Mr. Gissing well observes, -the stability of the home, typified by the wedding bed of Odysseus, -made fast to a pillar of a living tree, is very sacred. In camp, and -in wanderings, the men live as they will; at home, as we learn from -the cases of Laertes and the father of Phoenix, a good man keeps no -mistress, and the wife soon gives a worse man cause to rue his laxity. -All this is very unlike the morals of historic Greece. The bride-price -is, indeed, a barbaric survival; but the purity of the morals of the -married women proves that it was modified in practice by the benignity -of fathers to ‘well-loved daughters’. The highest tender was not -necessarily accepted. We hear of no amours of maids and bachelors; the -girls do not sleep, like the young men and like fair Margaret of the -ballad of Clerk Saunders, in bowers in the court, but in rooms of the -upper story, where only a god can come unnoticed. Nausicaa is most -careful not to compromise herself by being seen in the company of a -stranger. - -Naturally, in a society that carries arms always, the tone of courtesy, -where deliberate insult is not intended, is very high, and rude speech, -like that of Euryalus to Odysseus in Phaeacia, is atoned for with -an apology and the gift of a sword. Except the Over Lord, no man is -habitually rude. - -As to warfare, as in the _Tain Bo Cualgne_, the Irish romance based -on the manners of the late Celtic period (200 B.C. to 200 A.D.), the -gentry fight from chariots, dismounting at will, while the host, -with spears, or with slings, bows and arrows, follows or exercises -its artillery from the flanks. Except when the rain of arrows does -execution, we hear next to nothing of the plebeian infantry. The age -of hoplites was as remote as the age of cavalry, and the phalanxes -are only mentioned when they are broken. The chariot age is familiar -in Assyrian, Egyptian, and Minoan art, as among the Britons and -Caledonians who fought with Rome. The chariot was extremely light; a -man could lift a chariot and carry it away (_Iliad_ x. 505). Probably -the chariot came into use for war, as Mr. Ridgeway supposes, in an -age when a pony was unequal to the weight of a man in armour; the -Highlanders, with their Celtic ponies, used chariots in Roman times; -never did they acquire a breed of horses fit for chargers, hence -they lost the battle of Harlaw. To judge by Homer’s description of -horses, the chariot survived the cause of its origin; steeds were -tall and strong enough for cavalry purposes, but human conservatism -retained the chariot. A speech of Nestor, in _Iliad_, Book iv. 303-9, -shows that Homer knew by tradition the Egyptian custom of charging -in serried squadrons of chariotry, while in his own day the lords of -chariots usually fought dismounted, and in the loosest order, or no -order. Nestor naturally prefers ‘the old way’; no late poet could have -made this interpolation, for, in the Greek age of cavalry, he could -have known nothing of chariotry tactics. The Egyptian chariotry used -the bow, while their adversaries, the Khita charioteers, fought with -spears, in loose order, as in Homer--and had the worst of the fight. - -The Homeric retention of the huge body-covering shield, familiar in -Minoan art, was more or less of a survival of a time when archery was -all-important. The shield, as among the Iroquois and in mediaeval -Europe, was suspended by a belt. The same shields, among the Red -Indians, and in the Middle Ages (eleventh and twelfth centuries), were, -so to speak, umbrellas against a rain of arrows; as the bow became -more and more despised, the historic Greeks adopted the round parrying -buckler, good against spear- and sword-strokes. The body armour, as far -as greaves are concerned, was an advance on Minoan practice. In Minoan -art the warriors are usually naked under the huge shields; happily, one -or two seals found in Crete, and a pair of greaves in Cyprus, prove -that greaves, cuirass, _zoster_, and _mitrê_, the mailed kirtle of -Homer, were not unknown even before the earliest age at which one could -venture to place the Epic (see Note). - -[Illustration] - -The use of the metals, in war, is peculiar, but not unexampled. Weapons -are, when the metal is specified, always of bronze, save one arrow-head -of primitive form (_Iliad_ iv. 123), and a unique iron mace (_Iliad_ -vii. 141). Implements, including knives, which were not used in war, -were of iron, as a rule, of bronze occasionally. The only battle-axe -mentioned is of bronze (_Iliad_ xiii. 611); axes, as implements, are -usually of iron, so are the implements of the ploughman and shepherd. -No man in Homer is said to be ‘smitten with the iron’, it is always -‘with the bronze’; but trees are felled ‘with the iron’ (_Iliad_ iv. -485). - -Odysseus shoots ‘through the iron’, that is, through the open work of -the iron axe-heads, which were tools. This curious overlap of bronze -and iron, the iron being used for implements before it is used for -weapons, has no analogy, as far as I am aware, in Central and Northern -Europe. But Mr. Macalister has found it perfectly exemplified in -Palestine, in certain strata of the great mound of Gezer. Here all -weapons are of bronze, all tools of iron (_Palestine Exploration Fund_, -1903, p. 190). - -This state of affairs--obviously caused by military distrust of iron -while ill-manufactured, when bronze was admirably tempered--is proved -by Mr. Macalister to have been an actual stage in culture, ‘about -the borders of the Grecian sea.’ We find no archaeological evidence -for this state of things in tombs of the period of overlap of bronze -and iron in Greek soil. But then we have never excavated a tumulus -of the kind described by Homer, and, if we did, the tumulus (which -necessarily attracts grave-robbers) is likely to have been plundered. -This is unlucky; we have only the poet’s evidence, in Greece, for the -uses of bronze and iron as they existed in Palestine. But I think it -improbable that the poet invented this rare stage of culture. Again, if -we believe, with most critics, that late poets introduced the iron, it -is to me inconceivable that they could abstain, in rigorous archaism, -or unconscious adherence to tradition, from occasionally making a -warrior ‘smite with the iron’, or from occasional mention of an iron -sword or iron-headed spear, while they did not archaize or follow -tradition when they spoke of iron knives, axes, tools, and so on. - -In tradition of the bronze age, the tools, no less than the weapons, -must have been of bronze. Why, then, did late archaizing poets make -them of iron, while they never made the weapons of anything but bronze? - -The great objection to my opinion is _Odyssey_ xvi. 294, xix. 13, the -repeated line in which occurs the proverbial saying, ‘iron of himself -draws a man to him.’ Here iron is synonymous with ‘weapon’, the weapons -in the hall of Odysseus are to be removed, on the pretence that ‘iron’ -draws a man’s hands, and may draw those of the intoxicated wooers in -their cups. - -I am opposed to regarding a line as ‘late’ merely because it -contradicts one’s theory. The critics have no such scruples, they -excise capriciously. But this line not only contradicts my theory, it -contradicts the uniform unbroken tenor of both epics. It is a saying -of the Iron Age, when ‘iron’ has become a synonym for ‘weapon’, as -in Thucydides and Shakespeare. But everywhere else in the epics the -metallic synonym for ‘weapon’ is ‘bronze’. The metallic synonym for -‘tool’ is ‘iron’. Men are ‘smitten with the bronze’, trees are ‘felled -with the iron’. - -I think that, in these circumstances, it is not inconsistent to doubt -the line’s antiquity. If we accept it, we must suppose that one -solitary late minstrel out of hundreds (on the separatist theory) let -the cat out of the bag and enabled us to be sure that an indefinite -amount of the epics was composed in the full-blown Age of Iron, though -all the other later poets firmly kept the secret by invariably giving -to the heroes weapons of bronze. Mr. Ridgeway is against me. He writes: -‘The Homeric warrior ... has regularly, as we have seen, spear and -sword of iron.’ He may see it so, but Homer saw it otherwise, and never -gives a warrior an iron sword or spear (_Early Age of Greece_, vol. i, -p. 301). - -No early poet, perhaps no poet, can avoid, in religion and myth, -barbaric and savage survivals, owing to the nature of the legendary -materials on which his works are based. Nobody, we may almost say, -invents a plot: all borrow from the huge store of world-wide primaeval -_Märchen_, or folk-tales. In the _Odyssey_, _Marmion_, and _Ivanhoe_, -the plot rests on the return of the husband or lover from unknown -wanderings, unrecognized, except in _Ivanhoe_ and the _Odyssey_, by -the faithful swineherd. This is a plot of _Märchen_ all over the -world. Gerland, and, recently, Mr. Crooke and others, have studied the -_Märchen_ embedded in Homer. One such story is that of the Shifty Lad -in Dasent’s _Tales from the Norse_, and the Shifty Lad is only a human -representative of the shifty beast, Brer Rabbit or another, who is so -common in savage folklore. Now Homer, in the character of Odysseus, -merely combines the Returned Husband with the Shifty Lad. It would -not be hard to show that Odysseus is really the hero of the _Iliad_, -as well as of the _Odyssey_, the man whom the poet admires most, and -_he_ is the real ‘stormer of the city’ of Ilios. He is the type of -sagacious, resolute, indomitable courage; the thoroughly well-balanced -man, the most tenacious in war. But, in the _Odyssey_, the nature of -the original _Märchen_, as in the encounter with the Cyclops, and the -necessity for preserving his disguise, when he returns to Ithaca, -compel the poet to make Odysseus foolhardy and an ingenious liar. -The sentiment of Homer’s audience and of Homer is with Achilles when -he says that he ‘hates a lie like the gates of hell’. But the given -material does not permit Odysseus to cherish this chivalrous disdain -of falsehood, and Athene, the most ethical of the Olympians, applauds -his craft. The materials of legend also yield the cruelty of Achilles; -like a hero of the Irish epic, the _Tain Bo Cualgne_, he drags a dead -man behind his chariot; and, ‘with evil in his heart, he slays twelve -Trojan prisoners with the bronze,’ at the funeral of Patroclus. This is -not, to the poet’s mind, a case of human sacrifice, nor does Achilles -intend the souls of the men to be thralls of Patroclus. - -Homer regards Achilles as slaying the captives merely to glut his fury -with revenge, ‘anger for thy slaying’ (_Iliad_ xxiii. 23). This is the -explanation which he gives to himself of an incident which he finds -in his traditional materials, probably a memory of human sacrifice. -Historic Greece was familiar enough with such ritual; but it is a -marvel of evil to Homer; he clearly fails to understand it. He is most -embarrassed by his materials in matters of religion. Unlike Hesiod he -does not love to speak of what the gods did ‘in the morning of time’, -things derived from a remote past of savage mythology; the incest, the -amours in animal form, the cannibalism, the outrage of Cronos on his -father, the swallowing of Zeus. But he cannot get rid of the ancient -mythological element in the Olympians. Though the Zeus of Eumaeus is -ethical, just, benignant, a truly religious conception; though Homer -has almost a bitter sense of the dependence of men on the gods; though -‘all men yearn after the gods’; the Olympians, as they appear in the -story, are the freakish beings of myth, capricious partisans, amorous, -above all undignified. Only among the gods has married life its sad, if -humorous, aspect, as in the bickerings of Zeus and Hera; only among the -gods is adultery a joke. Among men it is the direst outrage of sanctity -of the home. So alien to Homer is the mythology which he inherits that -he finds it easiest to treat the gods humorously, save where they guard -the sacredness of the oath (_Iliad_ iii. 275), and are protectors of -strangers, suppliants, and of the poor. The mythological survivals are, -to Homer, inevitable, but distasteful. As to a belief in a future life, -in Homer there is a prevailing idea, but it is mixed with the other -ideas which, however contradictory, always exist in this mysterious -matter. The prevailing idea is that the dead, if they receive their due -rites of fire and interment, abide, powerless for good or evil, in a -shadowy _sheol_ in the House of Hades. If they do not get their dues -of fire they wander disconsolate, and may become ‘a cause of wrath’ to -men, may appear to them in dreams, or in - - the margin grey, - ’Twixt the soul’s night and day. - -In the House of Hades is neither reward nor punishment (if we take -_Odyssey_ xi. 570-600 for a late interpolation), but mere lack of -vigour and of the sun. Only the prophet Tiresias, like Samuel in -_Sheol_, ‘keeps his wits’ and his faculty of precognition. - -Yet, in the scene of the Oaths (_Iliad_ iii. 278-9), certain powers -are appealed to which ‘beneath the earth punish men outworn’. I do -not think this a late interpolation, because the formula of the -sacrifices connected with the oath is likely to be very ancient, to be -pre-Homeric, and to reflect an old belief no longer popular. In these -matters all contradictory notions may coexist, as when the hymn of the -Euahlayi tribe of New South Wales prays Baiame to admit the soul of -Erin into his paradise, Bullimah, while the myth says that Erin is now -incarnate in a little bird. Many of the lowest savages believe in a -future of rewards and punishments, but the doctrine of the efficacy of -fire has all but driven this faith out of Homer’s ken. - -Cremation is the great _crux_ of Homeric anthropology, cremation, -and the consequent absence of ghost-feeding, and of hero-worship. -Archaeology shows that these practices went on unbroken in Greece, -and archaeology cannot show us a single example of the Homeric barrow -and method of interment. Yet the method is a genuine historic method -in Northern Europe of the Age of Bronze. Homer did not invent it; he -mentions no other mode of disposing of the dead, but we have never -found its traces in Greece. The shaft graves and tholos graves of -late Minoan times have left no vestige of tradition in the Epics, -and the cremation and barrow are equally absent from the view of the -archaeologist. I cannot venture on any guess at an explanation. We are -precluded from supposing that cremation arose in the wanderings after -the Dorian invasion, for the purpose of concealing the remains of the -dead from desecration by alien foes. The shaft grave might conceal -them, the tumulus and pillar above only advertise their whereabouts to -the ruthless foe. - -It is plain that, on many points, Homer, with his austere taste, is -not a very rich source for the anthropologist in search of savage -survivals. In Homer no human beings work magic; a witch, like a -harlot, is not to be found in the Epics. Both are familiar in the -Old Testament. There is a second-sighted man, but his was a natural -faculty. Homer never alludes to the humbler necessities of our animal -nature; unlike Shakespeare, he never makes old Nestor cough and spit, -when roused, as in the _Doloneia_, by a night alarm. Nobody coughs in -Homer. He sings for an audience that has lived down the ape, though -the tiger has not wholly died. He knows nothing of our instruments of -torture, rack and boot and thumbscrews, which, in Scotland, outlasted -the seventeenth century. Historic Greece was not very successful in -expelling the beast from human nature. The poets of historical Greece -were never so successful as Homer. I infer that the _Iliad_ and the -_Odyssey_ are prehistoric, the flowers of a brief age of Achaean -civilization, an age when the society of princes and ladies had a -taste extraordinarily pure and noble. The poems were framed for an -aristocratic, not for a popular audience, though I am perfectly ready -to grant that the popular audience to which our best ballad minstrels -sang also desired a tone of singular purity in the serious romantic -lays. It is the nature of the highest objective art, whether in epic or -ballad, to be clean: the Muses are maidens. - - -NOTES - -Page 47. The reference to Mr. Verrall refers to his article on Homer -in _The Quarterly Review_, July, 1908. I myself suppose that some -editorial work was done for the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ at Athens, before -the Persian war. There is plenty of smoke in literary tradition, and -‘where there is smoke there is fire’. But the smoke-wreaths are vague -and multiform as the misty ghosts in Ossian, and I cannot, with Mr. -Verrall, regard the words of a fourth-century orator. - -Page 48. Lycurgus is not ‘record’. By ‘record evidence’ for Greece I -understand inscriptions, nothing more and nothing less. - -Page 57. ‘cuirass, _zoster_, and _mitrê_.’ See figure, a copy of a -clay seal, of which nearly a hundred impressions have been published in -_Monumenti Antichi_. See for further particulars my article on Homer in -_Blackwood’s Magazine_ for January, 1908, also Mackenzie, _Annual of -the British School at Athens_ (1905-6, p. 241). - -Page 59. _Odyssey_ xvi. 294, xix. 13, for - - αὐτὸς γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος - -a friend suggests - - αὒτως γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἀνδράσι δῆρις. - -This emendation I leave at the mercy of the learned. - - - - -LECTURE III - -ANTHROPOLOGY IN THE GREEK EPIC TRADITION OUTSIDE HOMER - - -In the remains of the earliest Greek poetry we are met by a -striking contrast. As Mr. Lang has told us, ‘Homer presents to the -anthropologist the spectacle of a society which will have nothing to -do with anthropology.’ By Homer of course Mr. Lang means the _Iliad_ -and the _Odyssey_; and we may add to those poems a stream of heroic -tradition which runs more or less clearly through most of our later -literature, and whose spirit is what we call classic, Homeric, or -Olympian. - -But there is also in the earliest epic tradition another stratum, -of which this Olympian character does not hold. A stratum full of -the remains, and at times even betraying the actuality, of those -‘beastly devices of the heathen’ which are dear to the heart of -us anthropologists--if a mere Greek scholar may venture to class -himself among even amateur anthropologists: ceremonies of magic and -purification, beast-worship, stone-worship, ghosts and anthropomorphic -gods, traces of the peculiar powers of women both as ‘good medicine’ -and as titular heads of the family, and especially a most pervading and -almost ubiquitous memory of Human Sacrifice. - -This stratum is represented by Hesiod and the Rejected Epics--I mean -those products of the primitive saga-poetry which were not selected for -recitation at the Panathenaea (or the unknown Ionian archetype of the -Panathenaea), and which consequently fell into neglect--by the Orphic -literature, by a large element in tragedy, most richly perhaps by the -antiquarian traditions preserved in Pausanias, and in the hostile -comments of certain Christian writers, such as Clement and Eusebius. - -Now the first thing for the historian to observe about this non-Homeric -stratum is this: that non-Homeric is by no means the same thing as -post-Homeric. We used to be taught that it was. We used to be taught -that Homer was, practically speaking, primitive: that we started -from a pure epic atmosphere and then passed into an age of romantic -degradation. The extant remains of the non-Homeric poems frequently -show in their form, and sometimes even in their content, definite -signs of presupposing the _Iliad_, just as the _Iliad_ here and there -shows signs of presupposing them; and it is not until recently that -we have been able to understand properly the nature and the method of -composition of an ancient Traditional Book. I will not go into that -point in detail here. Even supposing that the _Cypria_, as a poem, -could definitely be called ‘later’ than the _Iliad_, it is enough to -say that a later literary whole may often contain an older kernel or -a more primitive mass of material, and in the case of the non-Homeric -saga-poems it is fairly clear that they do so. - -Two arguments will suffice. First the argument from analogy. Few -anthropologists, with the knowledge now at our command, will regard the -high, austere, knightly atmosphere of the _Iliad_ as primitive -when compared with that of Hesiod. In the second place, a great -proportion of our anthropological material is already to be found in -prehistoric Crete. The an-iconic worship, the stones, the beasts, the -pillars, and the ouranian birds: the great mother goddess of Anatolia, -the human sacrifices, and the royal and divine bull. I speak under -correction from those who know the Cretan finds better than I; but to -me it seems that there are many bridges visible from Crete to Hesiod or -Eumelus or even Pausanias; but the gulf between Crete and Homer seems, -in certain places, to have no bridge. - -Thus the later literary whole contains the more primitive modes of -thought, the earlier religion. - -Now this fact in itself, though it may be stated in different ways, is -not much disputed among scholars. But the explanations of the fact are -various. That which seems to me much the most probable is the theory -of Expurgation. As Mr. Lang seems not quite to have understood what I -tried to say about this in my _Rise of the Greek Epic_, I will restate -it in this way: We know that the great mass of saga-poetry began to be -left on one side and neglected from about the eighth century on; and we -find, to judge from our fragments, that it remained in its semi-savage -state. Two poems, on the contrary, were selected at some early time for -public recitation at the solemn four-yearly meeting of ‘all Ionians’, -and afterwards of ‘all Athenians’. The poems were demonstrably still in -a fluid condition; and the intellect of Greece was focussed upon them. -This process lasted on through the period of that great movement which -raised the shores of the Aegean from a land of semi-savages to the -Hellas of Thales, of Aeschylus, and of Euripides. And we find, -naturally, that amid all the colour of an ideal past, in which these -two epics, like all other epics, have steeped their story, there has -been a gradual but drastic rejection of all the uglier and uncleaner -elements. That is a very broad statement; it omits both the evidence -and the additional causes and qualifications. But it serves to explain -why I treat the non-Homeric sagas as representing more faithfully the -primitive pre-Hellenic habits of thought, the mere slough out of which -Hellas rose. - -Now to one lecturing on Anthropology in Homer, the difficulty is to -find enough material. In the case of the early saga outside Homer, the -difficulty is only what to choose and where to stop. - -One might begin by discussing the remnants of primitive secret -societies. The remains are fairly rich. Mr. Webster, in his instructive -book,[41] has traced the normal genesis of these bodies which exercise -such an enormous influence over savage life. The first stage he takes -to be the ordinary system of ordeals and puberty rites through which -all males of the tribe have to pass before they can be admitted as full -men. The ordeals of the Arunta and of the various Red Indian tribes -are familiar to most of us. These ceremonies are often involved in a -good deal both of mystery and of charlatanry. The youths initiated, -for instance, sometimes are supposed to die and be born again. The -process is secret. The women of the tribe are kept carefully away. The -neighbourhood is filled with the warning sound of the Rhombos or -Bull-roarer--that ‘whirring of immortal things’ which Hesiod perhaps -means when he speaks of the air resounding ῥιπᾖ ὑπ’ ἀθανάτων.[42] -The next stage begins when this initiation ceremony ceases to be -compulsory. This sometimes depends on the separation of the War Chief -from the medicine-man or the elders. For of course the initiation -ceremonies are specially the department of the last named. In the -third stage we find a full-flown Secret Society. The initiated form a -definite body and work together for the maintenance of such conduct as -is pleasing to the gods and themselves. - -Take the case of Dukduk, a powerful society in the Bismarck -Archipelago, north-east of New Guinea. I will not dwell on its power -nor on the advantages which accrue to its worshippers. But I cite from -Mr. Webster an eyewitness’s account of an epiphany of Dukduk. - -Dukduk arrives about six times a year, and always on the day of the new -moon. His arrival is announced a month beforehand by the Old Men--the -Gerontes. During that month great quantities of food are made ready for -Dukduk, and are ‘taken care of’ by the Old Men, his votaries. The day -before the epiphany all women disappear from sight. It is death to them -to look on the divine being. Before daybreak all the males of the tribe -assemble on the beach, most of the young men looking frightened. At -the first streak of dawn singing and drum-beating is heard out at sea, -and as soon as there is enough light five or six canoes are seen at a -distance, lashed together and with a platform built over them. On this -platform are two Dukduks, dancing and uttering shrill cries. They are -got up like gigantic cassowaries, some ten feet high, surmounted by a -grotesque human mask. At least, says Mr. Romilly, the witness whom I -cite, the body looks much like the body of the cassowary, but the head -is like nothing but the head of a Dukduk. The canoes make the beach. -The natives fall back in apprehension, for if Dukduk is touched he -frequently tomahawks the offender on the spot. They proceed through the -settlement, always dancing and screaming, to the secret house which -has been prepared for them in the bush. They stay about a fortnight. -They beat people a good deal, and exact money from suitable sources, -especially plundering the women; if any one has shown disrespect of -any sort to any member of the Dukduk society, not to speak of Dukduk -himself, the punishment is swift and terrible. - -Now Dukduk, like Egbo and Mumbo-Jumbo, is an anti-feminist, whereas -Dionysus was essentially worshipped by women. There are several West -African parallels to this. The Bundu of the Mendi country is a very -powerful woman‘s society.[43] But otherwise is not the whole of this -story curiously reminiscent of the Dionysus myths, as they occur, for -instance, in the early Corinthian epos attributed to Eumelos? In his -native Thrace, very possibly, everybody was initiated to Dionysus; but -in Greece his worshippers form a special society. Dionysus arrives in -a ship from unknown seas: when he moves inland this ship is set bodily -upon a wagon.[44] He makes his epiphany at various places, claiming -worship for himself and honours for his worshippers. In the regular -propagandist legend that comes down to us, Lycurgus perished for wrongs -done to the Bacchic society and the god himself. He ‘sought to stay the -women possessed of god and the Bacchic fire’.[45] He smote or drove into -the sea Dionysus himself and his Nurses.[46] The same with Pentheus. In -the actual ritual, we can have little doubt, a man personated Dionysus, -exactly as a man personates the Dukduk or Egbo or Mumbo-Jumbo. And -presumably, in just the same way, the uninitiated, as Mungo Park says, -‘were so ignorant, or at least were obliged to pretend to be so,’ as to -take the figure on the ship for a divine being. - -The Mysteries are all intimately connected with Secret Societies. The -Demeter mystery has an epiphany in it; it has the arrival of Demeter -at Eleusis; it has the Rhombos or Bull-roarer and the exclusion of the -uninitiated. And, a sign perhaps of declining influence in this actual -world, it professes, like many of these societies, to do wonderful -things in the next. - -There are, to my mind, traces in prehistoric Greece of another kind of -secret society, resembling the Human Leopards or Human Lions of West -Africa. I must refer here to the long expected book of my friend Mr. -Penmorlan Maine on Werewolves. But, to give the mere outlines of the -subject, the members of these societies are apt to turn, at certain -seasons, into leopards or lions, and then kill human beings in a -leopard-like or lion-like way. Their object is partly to obtain human -fat for ‘medicine’, partly to remove or discourage their enemies. Sir -H. H. Johnston[47] tells of a series of murders committed by an old -man, who concealed himself in long grass and leaped out on solitary -travellers. He killed them and then mutilated the bodies. He confessed -the murders freely, but explained that he at times turned into a -lion, and had to act as such.[48] The leopard societies have special -three-pronged forks or gloves with knives at the end to imitate the -wound of a leopard’s claw. And I have seen a long club ending in -claws like a wild beast’s, which I suspect had the same purpose. My -father-in-law bought it in Khartoum from a negro from the south, who -professed not to know what it was. He said it was a ‘fantasia’--as no -doubt it was. - -To take a particular instance, the mode of initiation in the Sherbro -leopard society strongly recalls certain pre-Hellenic myths. The -society chooses some stranger and asks him to a dinner at which human -flesh is secretly mixed among the other food. At the end of the meal -they reveal to him what he has eaten, and in proof (I think) show him -the hands, and sometimes the head, of the murdered human being. He has -shared the leopard feast, and is now a leopard.[49] - -Was it not exactly like this that Atreus kept the hands and feet of the -murdered children apart, hidden with a cloth, and at the end of the -feast removed the cloth to show Thyestes what he had eaten? Lykaon too, -though his name can scarcely be derived from λύκος, turned into a wolf -because he had ‘sacrificed a child on the altar of Zeus Lykaios’. As -he himself can scarcely be different from Zeus Lykaios, this must -originally have implied some cannibal act. And you will remember that -ever afterwards in the ritual of Zeus Lykaios legend said that one -piece of human flesh was mixed up with the rest of the sacrificial -meat, and the man who unknowingly tasted that bit was doomed to turn -into a wolf.[50] - -There are the burning questions of totems and of matriarchy; there is -Earth-magic, there is Purification, there is Fetichism: there are many -other marks of ‘the Religions of the Lower Culture’ to be found in the -ancient pre-Hellenic myths. But I must turn to the special point which -I wish to illustrate in the remainder of this lecture. - -I wish to deal with a most familiar part of the subject, the Divine -King, or, as I prefer to call him, the Medicine-King, and then to apply -the results which we reach to the most obvious remnant of non-Homeric -poetry that has come down to us, the Theogony of Hesiod. - -We all know about this medicine-king. If we like we can call him -divine. On his force and his _mana_--what Hesiod, I venture to suggest, -calls his κράτος τε βία τε--depends the welfare of his people, in the -way of rain and thunderstorms, of abundance of game, of crops, of -success in war. He also affects floods, earthquake, and pestilence. If -he suffers in any way, if his _mana_ is weakened, his whole people -suffers and is weakened too. Consequently he is encouraged and kept -strong as long as possible; if he shows any weakness, he must be got -rid of and a better man found to take his place. There seem to be three -main methods. Either he is set aside periodically, at the end of five -years, or nine years, or the like; or he is quietly deposed when he -shows signs of age, like Peleus, Oineus, Aison, in the legends; or, -and this is our main subject to-day, when some one else shows superior -_mana_ by killing him. At present my _mana_ is supreme; I am king; -my will carries itself out. But if your _mana_, your Kratos and Bia, -conquer mine, then you are king. If you can also get my _mana_ into -you, so much the better. For κράτος and βία are tricky things and may -desert any one of us, or, according to Hesiod, any except Zeus: ‘No -house of Zeus is without them, no seat of Zeus, there is no going forth -of the god where they do not follow him, and they sit for ever beside -the Thunderer.’[51] Already, in Hesiod, these _mana_ qualities have -become half anthropomorphic; much more so, of course, in Aeschylus’ -_Prometheus_. - -Now in anthropology we are always making fresh efforts at the -imaginative understanding of men far removed from us, and naturally, -therefore, we are always slightly correcting and modifying our -conceptions. I want here to suggest that with regard to this Divine -King the ordinary classical conception is slightly wrong. We speak of -deification; and this deification always remains rather a puzzle for -us. It may be all very well for the mysterious Minos: but when applied -to Julius Caesar or to Hadrian, in the full light and plain prose of -history, it seems such an absurd and gratuitous blasphemy. I think -the mistake lies in applying our highly abstract conception ‘God’, -a conception rarefied and ennobled during many centuries by the -philosophic and religious thought of the highest of mankind, to a -stratum of human ideas to which it does not belong. In one of the -presidential addresses delivered to the recent Congress of Religions, -Mr. Hartland dwelt on a significant fact with regard to this idea of -God, viz. that whenever this word is used our best witnesses tend to -contradict one another. Among the most competent observers of the -Arunta tribes, for instance, some hold that they had no conception of a -God, others that they were constantly thinking about God. Much may be -said about this; but one thing, I think, emerges with some clearness: -that this idea of a god far away in the sky--I do not say merely a god -who is ‘without body, parts, or passions’, but even a god who is very -remote and is a cause behind the regular phenomena of the world--this -idea is one which practically does not enter their minds at all, or, -if by an effort they can reach and accept it, it has little working -value and is soon forgotten. For most primitive races, I suspect, the -medicine-chief, the βασιλεύς, with his immense _mana_, is Theos, and -equally the Theos is the medicine-chief. The rainmaker, the bringer of -game, the possessor of the power to make dead and to make alive--there -he is, the visible doer of all those things which later races have -delegated to higher and more shadowy beings, walking palpably before -you with his medicine and perhaps his pipe, his grand manner, his fits, -and his terrific dress. - -The Basileus, the possessor of great _mana_, wants people to obey him, -and by will-power, by force of character, aided by impressive ritual, -he makes them. In the same way he makes rain; he says so vehemently -‘It shall rain’ that it cannot help itself. It does. This lies at the -back of what we somewhat erroneously call mimetic magic. For the real -rainmaker does not imitate rain, he just makes it. One must bear in -mind always the extreme sensitiveness of savages to suggestion--to -hocus-pocus, to bullying, to paroxysms of rage. When Kyknos-Ares, -who presumably belonged to this class of Basileus, was waiting for -Heracles to attack him in his _temenos_, he did not simply make -suitable arrangements and stay on guard; no, περιμαίνετο, he ‘raged -round’, working up his _mana_ and inspiring all the terror possible. -Think of the scolding priests of the Middle Ages. Think even of the -Bull ‘Ausculta Fili’. Think of the rages that are characteristic of -ancient prophets, such as Tiresias, just as they are of modern yogis -and Maroccan saints. - -In the first place, then, on sociological grounds, I think we should -not conceive this primitive king as a man deified, but rather as a -pre-deistic medicine-man possessed of those powers which more cultured -ages have relegated to the gods. In the second place, though I know -that etymological arguments are often like broken reeds and pierce -the hand of him who leans thereon, I cannot but remember that Curtius -derived θεός from the root _thes-_ which appears in πολύθεστος, -ἀπόθεστος, θέσσασθαι, perhaps θεσμός, the Latin _festus_ and _feriae_, -and which has the special connotation of ‘spell’ or ‘magic prayer’. -Professor Conway, who prefers another derivation (Lith. dvãse, ‘spirit, -breath,’ MHG. ge-twas, ‘ghost,’ see Brugmann, _Gr. Gr._ s.v.), writes -to me that the fatal objection to the _thes-_ derivation is that θεσός -could not mean God; it could only mean ‘prayer’ or ‘one who prays’. -Now, except that the word suggests ‘spell’ rather than ‘prayer’, that -is exactly what I want it to mean. If the word θεός was originally -neuter it meant magic or medicine, like φάρμακον. If masculine, it was -the medicine-man or magic-man--not very far from φαρμακός. - -The process of thought, if I may over-simplify it a little, seems to be -like this. First the Theos or Rainmaker on earth makes his rain. Then -it is found that he does not always or unconditionally make the rain, -and you reach the hypothesis that a greater rainmaker lives far away, -on some remote mountain, or perhaps in the sky. That is the true Theos. -The Theos on earth only knows his ways, belongs to him, partly controls -him; sometimes indeed he can only humbly pray to him. The so-called -Theos on earth, in fact, is not Theos at all. Here comes one of the -strongest antitheses between Homeric and non-Homeric, between the -reformed Olympian religion and the old savage stuff from which it was -made. Homer drew clear the line between mortal and immortal, between -God in Olympus and man here. And most early Greek poetry rings with the -antithesis. Μὴ μάτευε Ζεὺς γενέσθαι. θνητὸν ὄντα θνητὰ χρὴ φρονεῖν. -By the fifth century the time was long past when ‘gods and mortal men -strove in Mêkônê’, and the gods had carried the day. Yet even Sophocles -makes his Thebans go with prayer and supplication to a Basileus, to stop -the plague; and it seems significant that he makes the priest explain - - θεοῖσι μέν νυν οὐκ ἱσούμενόν σ’ ἑγὼ - οὑδ’ οἴδε παῖδες ἑζόμεσθ’ ἑφέστιοι - ἁνδρῶν δὲ πρῶτον ἔν τε συμφοραῖς βίου - κρίνοντες ἒν τε δαιμόνων συναλλαγαῖς (_O.T._ 31 ff.). - -The suppliant comes to him not exactly as a God, but as the first of -men and as holding some special intercourse with the δαίμονες. - -A great collection of these medicine-kings, especially of rain and -thunder-makers, is to be found in Mr. A. B. Cook’s very remarkable -articles on ‘Zeus, Jupiter and the Oak’, published in the _Classical -Review_ for 1903, and again in his ‘European Sky God’ in _Folk Lore_, -xv, pp. 371-90. I will run briefly through a few of them. - -The clearest of all is Salmoneus. His nature was explained, I believe, -partly by M. Salomon Reinach and partly by Miss Jane Harrison. ‘He -declared that he was Zeus,’ says Apollodorus (i. 9, 7), ‘and depriving -Zeus of his sacrifices bade men offer them to himself. He attached to -a chariot leather thongs with bronze caldrons and, trailing them after -him, said he was thundering; he tossed blazing torches into the air and -said he was lightening.’--So he was; at least, he was doing his best. -Mr. Cook shows that he had also some justification for saying that he -was Zeus. For he was an Olympian victor; and thereby became Basileus, -or Zeus, of Olympia, and had the thunder-making as part of his official -duties. - -Almost exactly similar is Remulus Silvius, _Remulus ... imitator -fulminis_, as Ovid calls him. ‘In contempt of the gods he contrived -mock thunderbolts and noises like thunder, wherewith he thought to -frighten men as though he were a god. But a storm fraught with rain -and lightning falling upon his house, and the lake near which it -stood swelling in an unusual manner, he was drowned with his whole -family.’[52] As with Salmoneus, amid his mock thunder-storms came the -real thunder-storm and slew him. - -More modest and more in accord with later beliefs was Numa. No impiety -was to be found in his thunder-making.[53] ‘Picus and Faunus taught Numa -many things, including a charm for thunder and lightning, composed -of onions, hair, and pilchards, which is used to this day.’ You may -remember the story told by Livy, Ovid, and others, how Numa cheated -Jupiter of his human sacrifice. He conjured Jupiter by a spell to come -to him and reveal a charm for thunder. The god came, but was angry at -being brought, and meant to have blood. ‘I want heads’ ... ‘Of onions,’ -said Numa. ‘I want human’ ... ‘Hairs,’ said Numa. ‘I want living’ ... -‘Pilchards,’ put in the pious king, and Jupiter gave the matter up. - -Minos in much the same way had the power to thunder, but only had it by -means of a prayer to his father Zeus. - -Now observe that most of these early Roman heroes appear both as men -and as gods. The explanation is, I think, that when the celestial -gods were introduced the old _Theoi_ or _Basilêes_ had to be either -condemned, like Mezentius, Remulus Silvius, Salmoneus, or else deified. -Numa and Romulus suggest themselves at once. Aeneas, too, while engaged -in battle with Turnus, or some say Mezentius, vanished and became -Jupiter Indiges. Latinus vanished while fighting Mezentius, and became -Jupiter Latiaris. In later times there were numbers of these ‘_Humani -Ioves_’. It is one of the most important social facts to remember about -antiquity, that the spread of education was very difficult and slow, -and in consequence it was almost impossible for a whole nation at once -ever to rise entirely above that primitive state of superstition which -Preuss describes by the pleasant word ‘Urdummheit’. - -Julius Caesar was worshipped as Jupiter, with M. Antonius for his -Flamen Dialis. Caligula was worshipped as Optimus Maximus and also as -Jupiter Latiaris; it was perhaps in this capacity that he put to death -his rival the Rex Nemorensis at Nemi. Domitian is constantly referred -to as Jupiter in the poets. Coins are found inscribed =ΛΙΒΙΑ ΗΡΑ=, -and =HADRIANO IOVI OLYMPIO=. - -We have further the somewhat mysterious statement of Macrobius (_Sat._ -iii. 7. 6) that ‘the souls of consecrated men were called by the -Greeks Zânes’, and the express and frequently repeated statement of -Tzetzes ‘that the ancients called all their kings Zeus and their queens -goddesses’. Οἱ γὰρ πρίν τε Δίας πάντας κάλεον βασιλῆας.[54] - -I will not dwell on Zeus-Agamemnon or on Zeus-Minos; nor on the number -of priests of Zeus at Corycus who bear the name Zâs. But I will just -draw attention to one fact. Two classes of people who are not kings, -and I believe two only, are found bearing the title of Zeus. They are -prophets--like Zeus-Amphiaraos and Zeus-Trophonios; and doctors--like -the celebrated Menekrates, who called himself Zeus and his various -attendants by other divine names. That is to say the old conception of -medicine-chief has split up into those three channels, king, prophet, -and doctor; and to all three the name of Zeus occasionally belongs. It -was for a medical miracle at Lystra that Barnabas was hailed as Zeus -and Paul as Hermes (Acts xiv. 12). - -Now, as has been observed before now, the history of these _Humani -Ioves_ is written in blood, and that for two special reasons. First, -it is by blood that they come to the throne and by blood that they -leave it. Secondly, they are always appealed to in times of great -strait or danger, when ‘strong medicine’ is wanted. And the strongest -and most favourite medicine in such cases is human blood, of one sort -or another. The main object of the Leopard Societies is said to be -the wish to obtain human fat as ‘medicine’. The same motive leads to -murders in Australia.[55] - -We should perhaps add a third cause for the stain of blood which lies -so deep on these primitive medicine-kings. I mean, the mere wish to -inspire terror and obedience and to keep off as long as possible that -inevitable successor who filled their days with dread. Kyknos, Phorbas, -Oinomaos, Kerkyon, Amykos, Philomeleides, Sinis, and Procrustes, all -those ogres of Greek myth who race or wrestle with all comers and, -having defeated them, hang their heads on trees or tear their bodies -asunder or fling them to wild beasts or the like, have their parallel -in many an African king, whose hut is ringed by heads stuck -on poles.[56] - -Now I wish to apply these conceptions, as I said, to the most -obvious piece of Greek Epic poetry outside Homer, and illustrate -anthropologically the main legend of the Theogony. You will remember -the outlines of the story. The first possessor of the kingly -office--βασιληίδα τιμήν--is Ouranos. He is afraid of his children, -and ‘hides’ or imprisons them. At last his son Kronos conquers and -mutilates him, and he passes out of sight. Kronos becomes king and is -equally afraid of his children; he ‘swallows’ them one after another; -eventually Zeus conquers and ‘binds’ him. Zeus now reigns; but Zeus -took the precaution of swallowing Metis, when Metis was about to give -birth to Athena. - -I omit details for the moment. I refrain also from discussing the Maori -parallel, first pointed out, I believe, in Mr. Lang’s _Custom and -Myth_. This series of conflicts has been explained as referring to a -change of religion, an early Pelasgian worship being ousted by that of -the incoming Achaeans. There may be that in it: but such an explanation -obviously does not explain the whole series of swallowings. There were -not three, certainly not four, different religions in question. - -Analysing the story I find in it the following elements. - -First, the medicine-king, or Theos, is afraid of his successor. In this -case the possible successors are represented as his children. That -may be a mere piece of convenience in story-telling; it may be the -influence of a time when kingship was hereditary. - -In all three cases the motive assigned by Hesiod seems to be the fear -of a successor. The motive of Ouranos, indeed, is not very clearly -stated. He began by hiding his children in the earth because they were -‘the most dangerous of sons’ (155). They ‘were hated of their father’, -and ‘he rejoiced in the evil work’. - -Kronos arose and conquered him: the exact meaning of the mutilation I -leave aside. Kronos proceeded to swallow his children ‘intending that -none other of the proud sons of Ouranos should have king’s rank among -the immortals; for he had heard from Gaia and Ouranos that he was -destined to be vanquished by his son’ (461 ff.). Here the motive is -clearly given. - -As for Zeus and his strange act in swallowing Metis when she was about -to give birth to Athena, two quite distinct motives are attributed to -him. First, that which we have met with before. ‘He was determined that -none but himself should have the king’s rank, βασιληίδα τιμήν, over the -immortals. He had heard an oracle that Metis was destined to give birth -to’--one expects the motive of the Marriage of Thetis--‘a child who -should be mightier than his father.’ But it is not quite so simple; for -Athena was the child of Metis, and she was obviously not mightier than -Zeus. The oracle takes the curious form that Metis is to bear ‘first -Athena, and secondly a child who shall be mightier than his father.’ -Zeus seems to have swallowed her rather prematurely. But he had a -second motive also. He swallowed Metis ‘that the goddess being inside -him should tell him of good and evil’. The name Μῆτις of course means -‘Counsel’ or ‘Wisdom’. - -Leaving this last detail aside for the present, I suggest that the -main motive in this strange story of the swallowing or hiding of the -successive possible pretenders to the crown is the dread which each -king naturally felt of him who was coming after. But this still leaves -much unexplained; the second main element which I find is the worship -of sacred flints or thunder-stones. - -When Kronos set about swallowing Zeus, you will remember, Gaia put a -big stone in swaddling clothes and gave it to great Kronos. And he ‘put -it inside his belly’, ἑὴν ἑσκάτθετο νηδύν (487). Then, ‘in the passing -of the years’--whatever that exactly means--‘beguiled by the counsels -of Gaia, great crooked-hearted Kronos spewed up his brood again, being -conquered by the craft and force of his son’. (Two reasons there, -belonging probably to different stories--in one he was overcome by the -craft of Gaia, in the other by the _mana_ of his son.) ‘And the first -thing he vomited up was the stone, which he had swallowed last.... Then -straightway Zeus set loose his father’s brothers, the Titanes. They -were grateful, and gave him three gifts, thunder and thunder-bolt and -lightning; formerly vast Earth had hidden them away: and it is by them -that Zeus rules over mortals and immortals.’[57] - -That is to say Zeus in this story is a thunder-god. The thunder -or lightning is his _mana_. And not only a thunder-god, he is a -thunder-stone. The identity has been, of course, disguised in our -present version of the myth. It is muddled, like everything else in -Hesiod.[58] But it shows through. When Kronos sets about swallowing -Zeus, it is the stone he swallows. And it is only when ‘by the counsels -of Earth’ Cronos vomits up the stone that Zeus can take any action; -and that action takes the form of thunder and lightning, the special -property of a thunder-stone. In the word ‘thunder-stone’, or κεραυνία, -the ancients seem to have mixed, and perhaps confused, two ideas: that -of a meteorite, which seemed to be the actual bolt which fell in the -thunder, and that of an ordinary flint, nephrite, jade, or the like, -which has its mysterious fire inside it. The fire is the soul, or -indwelling _mana_, of the flint. - -A careful reading of Hesiod’s story will, I think, convince most -anthropologists that Zeus _is_ the stone. And as a matter of fact it -is not uncommon for both Zeus and Jupiter to appear as stones. In the -temple of Jupiter Feretrius, the oldest temple of Jupiter in Rome, -founded by Romulus, there was a sacred flint which was called _Jupiter -Lapis_--it was not _Jovis Lapis_. It was used for killing the victim -in solemn treaties. It must have been one of those ‘thunder-stones -resembling axes’ of which Pliny speaks; what we should call neolithic -axe-heads. There seems to have been more than one _Jupiter Lapis_; for -in 201 B.C. the Senate sent several such with the _fetiales_ -to Africa. I need not dwell on other cases; the Zeus Kappôtas at -Gythîum, apparently a bigger stone, as Orestes could sit upon it; the -Zeus Kasios or Keraunios at Seleucîa; the stone of Zeus Sthenios, on -the road from Trozên to Hermione; or the thunder-stone on Mount Ida, in -Crete, with which Pythagoras was purified by the Idaean Dactyls, the -attendants of Zeus. They are all in De Visser’s book. - -The best known of these stones is perhaps that which was believed to -be--not to belong to, but actually to be--the Mother of the Gods. Livy -(xxix. II) tells of the embassy sent from Rome to Attalus to -fetch the Great Mother; and how the king took the legates to Pessinûs -in Phrygia and handed over to them the sacred stone which the natives -affirmed to be the Mother of the Gods. Arnobius describes its -appearance: ‘a stone not large, which could be carried in a man’s hand -without noticeable weight, in colour black and _furvus_, in shape more -or less round with projecting corners, which is now to be seen in -the mouth of the image of the Great Mother.’ Superstitious Rome was -ready to accept and to worship the Mother in the form of a stone; but -common-sense Rome did at least demand that the Great Mother should have -a decently anthropomorphic image, and the stone was then placed in the -image’s mouth. - -So far, then, we are clear. But there remain some difficult questions. -Why was the stone in Hesiod wrapped in swaddling clothes? I do not -understand this. But the ritual practice is well attested. Pausanias -tells how this Kronos stone was anointed and wrapped in wool.[59] A coin -in Macdonald’s Hunter Catalogue (ii. 68. 145) represents the Great -Mother stone covered with a goat-skin. This may be merely because of -the _hagos_ or taboo, just as the omphalos on vases is commonly covered -with an ἄγρηνον and Semitic betyls are wrapped in cloths. The actual -body of a god would be dangerous to touch; but it looks as if there -was some special connexion between stones and infants. The Orphic poem -called Lithica is, of course, full of magic stones, which might be -cited here. But take one in especial, the ‘Live Siderite’. This stone -has to be prayed to, like a god; it has also to be washed daily for ten -days and nursed and wrapped in clean robes, like a baby. At the end of -that time it will reward its benefactor by uttering the scream of a -young baby when hungry; then, the poet remarks, the great thing is not -to drop it.[60] - -In some Mexican dances, Preuss tells us, the souls of infants come -through the air in the likeness of five stones. Among the Kaitish -and the Arunta there are stones inhabited by infant souls, which are -induced in one way or another to come out of the stones and be born. -And we all remember the stones flung by Deucalion and Pyrrha, and the -race of man which is--or is not--sprung ἀπὸ δρυὸς ἡδ’ ἁπὸ πέτρης.[61] - -But again, why were the stones swallowed? What does all this swallowing -mean? Zeus of course swallowed Metis in order to have her _mana_ inside -him. That is sensible enough. Do medicine men or Theoi ever actually -swallow smooth stones in order to get the fire-power or other magic -inside them? In Mexico the devils which are sucked out of the body in -curing diseases are usually in the form of stones. For instance, in -the ceremony of the Huichol tribe, where the gods are healed of their -weariness by the Dawn-Star, Kaiumari, sucking ‘stones and the like’ out -of them.[62] The same practice is common among Australian blacks. - -Mr. Marett refers me to a still better case. Among the Yuin of New -South Wales the word _joïa_, which is almost like _mana_ and is used to -denote the immaterial force in sacred animals, is actually the name of -certain stones like these. They are commonly quartz-crystals or bits -of glass, but also we hear of Kunambrun, a black stone, apparently -lydianite. A black stone probably means thunder. The medicine man often -carries these stones in his mouth, and when he sends out a curse or -a blessing he projects them out of himself into his victim ‘like the -wind,’ that is, invisibly and impalpably.[63] - -The actual swallowing seems strange, unless it was a mere fraud. But I -used to know an Australian blackfellow--I never thought of asking his -tribe--who used to put stones in his mouth and give or sell them to the -boys of the neighbourhood as bearing a charm in consequence. They were -sure to hit what they were aimed at, unless the aim was very bad. I -suppose he put a lot of his _mana_ into them. One of the ways in which -a Papuan chief causes death, according to the report of Dr. Bellamy -in the White Book for 1907, is to send to a man a present of a smooth -stone. The man recognizes the meaning of the stone, and wastes away. -Dr. Bellamy cured some by the application of strong smelling salts, -which drove away the devils. Presumably the chief had put his _mana_ on -the stone in some very strong way. - -Lastly, there is another element in this story which calls for -explanation from better anthropologists than myself; I mean the -constant reference to ‘hiding’ or ‘concealment’. Ouranos (157) _hid_ -all his children in a secret place of the Earth; this gave pain to -Earth, and she groaned, being squeezed by them. Earth again (482) took -Zeus and _hid_ him in a cave. Kronos _put the stone inside_ him--surely -a form of hiding. The Titans _were hidden away_--κεκρύφατο, by Kronos -(729) till Zeus brought them again to light. Lastly and most important, -Zeus _hid away fire_ from man, κρύψε δὲ πῦρ. - -This last case is pretty clear. Zeus had the fire hidden away in the -heart of the flint or in the veins of Earth; Prometheus, or Pramanthas, -the Fire-Stick, introduced the more open visible fire. But the other -cases seem different. In them it is always a king or a would-be king, a -deposed Theos or a conquered aspirant, who is made to disappear. We are -reminded of Aeneas and Latinus who vanished in battles, of Romulus and -Numa who vanished in thunderstorms. - -In one case we find that the hiding was in a ‘monstrous cave’, and a -cave in Crete, too. We know from other sources something about the -kind of hiding which took place in that particular cave. At the end of -the fatal nine years, if we are to believe the authors quoted by me -in the _Rise of the Greek Epic_, p. 127, and much more completely by -Mr. A. B. Cook in the articles mentioned above, the divine king Minos -in his mask, as a god, went up into the Idaean cave to converse with -Zeus. Doubtless the divine mask covered his head. A masked Minos went -in, and a masked Minos came out; but one strongly suspects that it was -not the same man beneath the mask. My friend Mr. Gordon, an education -officer in Lower Nigeria, informs me that there is there a great oracle -or ordeal in a cave called the Long Juju. It decides cases between -litigants, or persons who have some dispute. And the method is that -both go up into the cave, and only one returns. The other, presumably -the guilty one, has vanished; he is hidden; κέκρυπται. - -All through this pre-Hellenic realm of saga and half-history we find -ourselves in contact with these god-kings, or medicine-chiefs, these -βασιλῆες or, if I am right, Theoi. And we cannot but wonder whether we -have not here the explanation of Herodotus’ famous statement about the -origins of Greek Religion (Herod. ii. 52). The Pelasgians, he tells us, -did not originally know the names of the Olympian gods; ‘they brought -offerings and prayed to the Theoi.’ It was only at a later time that -they sent to Dodona to ask if they should worship those definite gods -with special names and attributes and ‘Olympian Houses’ which had -come into Greece but were still in some sense foreign. And the oracle -said ‘Yes’. I am quite aware that the passage may be differently -interpreted; and I do not suggest that Herodotus knew all that lay -behind his words when he spoke of the nameless Theoi of the Pelasgians -in contrast to the Olympians of Homer and Hesiod. But I do suspect that -the contrast between these medicine-chiefs and the Homeric gods is one -of the cardinal differences between Hellenic and pre-Hellenic religion; -and, further, that some reminiscence of this difference has shaped the -tradition which Herodotus repeats. Clearer evidence will, no doubt, be -forthcoming from some better-equipped anthropologist. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[41] _Primitive Secret Societies_, Macmillan, 1908. - -[42] _Theog._ 681. - -[43] Wallis, _The Advance of our West African Empire_, p. 239. - -[44] Cf. Dieterich, _Archiv für Relig. Wiss._, xi, p. 173. - -[45] Soph. _Ant._ 965. - -[46] Eumelus, cp. Schol. _Il. Z._ 131. - -[47] _British Central Africa_, p. 439. - -[48] Cf. Du Chaillu, _A Journey to Ashongo Land_, p. 52. - -[49] Alldridge, _The Sherbro and its Hinterland_, pp. 153 ff. - -[50] Plat. (_Rep._ 565 d). Cf. De Visser, _Nicht-menschengestaltige -Götter_, p. 46. - -[51] _Theog._ 386 ff. - -[52] Dionys. Hal. _Antiq._ i. 71. - -[53] Plut. _Num._ 15. - -[54] See _Folklore_, xv. 304. - -[55] According to the White Book of Papua for 1907, containing the -governor’s report to the Federal Government, the only murder of a white -man committed during last year was due to a wish for this medicine. -A native called Hariki had built a new house and wished to make it -strong and paint it with a mixture of red-clay and coconut-oil. For -this purpose, it seems, special medicine was necessary, and in order to -have it as strong as possible, Hariki determined to get it from a white -man. He obtained it by killing a market-gardener called Weaver, with -whom he was on quite friendly terms. Indeed, when the medicine had been -obtained, Hariki and his friends ‘proceeded, under the guidance of one -of the party who was skilled in charms,’ to bring Weaver back to life. -They began at the feet, and succeeded, so they said, in reviving all -the lower part of the body; but there was a great wound in the chest -which they could not pass. So at last they hid the corpse away, and -arranged that it should seem to have been eaten by alligators. - -[56] Phorbas, being the strongest of the Phlegyai, was chosen their -king. He lived under an oak, wrestled with all comers, and hung their -heads on the oak. Kerkyon (et. _quercus_?) of Eleusis did much the -same. So did Oinomaos. His daughter’s suitors had to challenge him to a -chariot race; he hung up the heads of those whom he defeated. Pelops, -having defeated him, slew him and took the kingdom. Apparently the -daughter’s hand carried the kingdom with it, as the daughter of Zeus in -the _Birds_ is Basileia, ‘Royalty.’ Kyknos made a pyramid of skulls. -The others killed their rivals in various ways. - -[57] _Theog._ 485 ff. Cf. 690, where Zeus fights with the thunder as -his weapon; also 853 ff., where he crushes Typhoeus, who ‘would have -become king over mortals and immortals, but that Zeus saw him and used -the thunder’. - -[58] Thus in our present version of the _Theogony_ Zeus is not -swallowed at all: only the stone is swallowed. And when it reappears -Zeus sets it to be a sign at Pytho. Comment is hardly needed. No one -supposes that we have the stories of the _Theogony_ in their original -state. There is ‘contamination’ and ‘conciliation’ visible throughout -the book. - -[59] Paus. x. 24, 5; cp. ix. 2, 7 and Frazer’s note. - -[60] - ὄρσει νεογιλοῦ παιδὸς ἁυτὴν - μαίης ἑν κόλπῳ κεκληγότος ἁμφὶ γάλακτι (_Lithica_, 360-99). - -[61] Cp. Spencer and Gillen, _Central Australia_, p. 337. Several cases -are given in Dieterich, _Muttererde_, pp. 20 f. The belief is very -widespread. - -[62] Preuss, in _Archiv für Rel. Wiss._, xi. 576. - -[63] Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, pp. 371, 533 ff., -546. - - - - -LECTURE IV - -GRAECO-ITALIAN MAGIC - - -The Greek words for magic and magician, μαγεία and μάγος, are -admittedly of Persian origin, and in all probability did not find -their way into Greece before the Persian War, that is, before about -480 B.C. It was therefore an obvious inference, which was drawn in -1863 by O. Hirschfeld (_de incantationibus et devinctionibus amatoriis -apud Graecos Romanosque_), that as the name magic was not known in -Greece before the Persian Wars, neither was the thing. The inference is -indeed obvious, but it is not necessarily correct: magic is practised -by tribes who have not developed any general term for magic. It is -therefore conceivable, at least, that the Greeks and Italians also -before 480 B.C. practised magical rites, even though they then had no -word for magic in general. The question is one of facts and not merely -of words. What do we know of the facts before 480 B.C.? Unfortunately, -according to M. Mauss, in his article on magic in Daremberg and -Saglio’s _Dictionnaire des Antiquités Grecques et Romaines_, ‘we are in -almost complete ignorance of the primitive and original forms of magic -in Italy and Greece.’ In view, then, of our almost complete ignorance, -it may perhaps be allowable to start from a hypothesis--the hypothesis -that the primitive and original forms of magic amongst the Greeks and -Romans were much the same as they are amongst the undeveloped peoples -who possess them at the present day, and, like the Greeks and Romans of -the earliest times, have no general term for magic. - -Amongst the tribes of Central Australia, the person who employs magic -to cause sickness or death to his enemy does not omit to use what the -natives call ‘singing’. This ‘singing’ is conducted ‘in a low voice’ -(Frazer, _Golden Bough_^2, i. 13); and the sort of thing the magician -‘in muttered tones hisses out’ is ‘May your heart be rent asunder’, or, -‘May your head and throat be split open’ (Spencer and Gillen, _Native -Tribes_, 534 ff.; _Northern Tribes_, 456 ff.). - -In the Torres Straits the sorcerer points a spear in the direction of -his victim and ‘sings’ similarly, ‘Into body, go, go. Into hands, go, -go. Into head, go, go’ (_Cambridge Expedition to Torres Straits_, vi. -228, 229). The ‘singing’ assists, Mr. Haddon says (ib., p. 231), ‘in -furthering the injury he wishes to inflict.’ Now, was ‘singing’, of -this magical nature, a sort of rhythmical muttering in a low voice, -known to the Greeks and Romans? In the first place, we have the Latin -words _incantare_, _incantator_, _incantamentum_, all implying a -singing which is magical in its intention and effects--incantation -or enchantment. Next, we have _carmen_, which means not only song in -general but ‘singing’ in the magical sense, in Tibullus (i. 8. 17), -Ovid (_Met._ vii. 167, 203, 253; xiv. 57, 20, 34, 44, 366, 387; _Fasti_ -iv. 551, 552), Horace (_Ep._ v. 72; xvii. 4, 5, 28; _Sat._ i. 8. 19, -20), Virgil (_Ecl._ viii. 69; _Aen._ iv. 487), Juvenal (_Sat._ vi. -133), Pliny (_Nat. Hist._ xxviii. 10, 18), Tacitus (_Annals_, iv. 22), -and in other passages for which I may refer to Adam Abt (_Die Apologie -des Apuleius_, 22) and L. Fahz (_De Poetarum Romanorum Doctrina -Magica_, 138, 139). In Greek we have the same magical singing expressed -by the words ἑπάδειν, ἑπωδνή, ἑπῳδὁς; in Euripides (_Bacchae_ 234, -_Hippolytus_ 478, 1038, _Phoenissae_ 1260), Sosiphanes (_Fr._ 1), -Aristophanes (_Amphiaraus_, _Fr._ 29), Anaxandrides (_Fr._ 33. 31), -Antiphanes (_Fr._ 17. 15), Xenophon (_Mem._ iii. 11. 16, 17), Lucian -and Heliodorus, and other passages to be found in Abt (ib., p. 43). - -It may, however, be objected that all these quotations are of course -later than 480 B.C.; and therefore prove nothing as to ‘the primitive -and original forms of magic in Italy and Greece’. Indeed, in the -_Bacchae_, for instance, and in Plato, _Rep._ ii. 364 A, the magic -referred to may reasonably be regarded as exotic and not native to -Greece. But fortunately we find the word ἑπαοιδή, in the magical -sense, in Homer (_Od._ xix. 457), which takes this group of words -in this sense far back beyond 480 B.C. The Homeric use of the word -in this sense, however, will not avail against any one who chooses -to maintain--though it is impossible to prove, and difficult to -believe--that the Greeks originally knew no magic, and borrowed it -in Homeric or pre-Homeric times from some neighbouring people. And -though the fact that the Twelve Tables ordained punishment for the -man ‘qui malum carmen incantassit’ in all reasonable probability -indicates that ‘singing’ in the evil sense was a practice already at -the time rooted in Italy and not newly imported from abroad; still in -this case, as in the case of the Homeric ἑπαοιδή, the objection may -be made--though it cannot be supported by anything approaching proof -or even probability--that the Italians, as well as the Romans, alone -amongst early peoples were incapable of developing the belief for -themselves. As against this objection we can only fall back on the -evidence of comparative philology. And that evidence is particularly -interesting, because, as interpreted by O. Schrader (_Reallexikon der -Indogermanischen Altertumskunde_, ii. 974), it shows that amongst -the Indo-European peoples much the most common expression for doing -magic is ‘singing’. The presumption that ‘singing’ of the magical kind -goes back to Indo-European times is as strong as any that linguistic -evidence can produce. For the Slavonian, Lithuanian, and Teutonic words -I will refer to Schrader’s _Reallexikon_, ii. 975. Of the Greek and -Latin words I may mention βασκαίνω and βασκανία, which are connected -with βάζω, ‘speak’; γόης and γοητεύω with γόος, ‘howling’; _fascinum_ -and _fascinare_ with _fari_. - -If, then, we may with some plausibility illustrate the _carmen_, the -_incantatio_, and the ἑπαοιδή of the Greeks and the Romans, with the -‘singing’ of the Torres Straits and Central Australia, the question -arises, What exactly is it that the magician ‘sings’? In the Torres -Straits it apparently is the spear which is ‘sung’, for the words used -are, ‘Into body, go, go’; and Messrs. Spencer and Gillen say that in -Central Australia also it is the stick or the bone which is ‘sung’. -But when we examine the words of the ‘singing’ or charm, as given by -Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, we find that they do not refer to the -stick or the bone which is used in the magical rite, but to the person -against whom the rite is directed: ‘May your heart be rent asunder, may -your head and throat be split open.’ The inference, therefore, seems -to be that it is the victim that the ‘singing’ or spell is originally -directed against; and only later that the stick or bone itself comes -to be bewitched, just as money, which is valuable for what it will -purchase, comes to be regarded by the miser as an end in itself. - -If this is so, it opens up another possibility of interest which I must -be content merely to suggest for consideration and investigation. It -is that the earliest form of ‘singing’ or spell may be connected with -cursing. Some forms of cursing or imprecation invoke the assistance of -the gods, but not all; and it may be that those are the earliest which -operate directly and without reference to gods. Caliban invokes no gods -when he cries: - - All the infections that the sun sucks up - From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him - By inch-meal a disease! - -or - - a south-west blow on ye, - And blister you all o’er. - -And, generally speaking, we may say that what makes cursing terrible -and appalling to the ears on which it falls is not any reference to -the gods that it may contain--for such references maybe absent--but -the fear or horror the man inspires. If he inspires none, his curses -go unregarded. If they do terrify, it is because they are felt to have -some power. Precisely the same difference, and for precisely the same -reason, obtains in the case of witchcraft and magic. Some who practise -it are feared, others are not; and the reason is that some are believed -to have the power to do the mischief, and others not. But if witchcraft -and cursing are both terrible because of the fear they inspire and -the power they imply, and if so far they resemble each other, or even -possibly have a common psychological origin, they soon begin to follow -different lines of evolution. The essence of cursing is that it -is open and loud; and, except when taken up into religion, is not -ceremonialized or formalized; whereas the essence of magic is that -it is secret in what it does, and its ‘singing’ is a repeated or -rhythmical muttering in a low voice. The mere words, ‘May your heart -be rent asunder,’ may be a curse or a spell; and, in either case, if -they are feared, power is attributed to the person who utters them. -Psychologically, it is probable that belief in the power is due to the -fear that is felt. But when the belief has been established that a -certain person possesses the power, then the belief in the power in its -turn engenders fear. - -The belief is that the magician or witch has the power to do things. -In _Macbeth_ the first witch says: - - But in a sieve I’ll thither sail; - And, like a rat without a tail, - I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do. - -In the Romance languages there is a series of words for magic and -witchcraft, going back to the Latin _facio_, all expressing this idea -of ‘I’ll do, and I’ll do’, and implying that the witch has the power -to do--the Middle Latin _factura_, Italian _fattura_, Old French -_faiture_, &c. And in the Indo-European languages there are several -sets of words for magic and witchcraft, all expressing this same idea, -and indicating that it goes back to the earliest Indo-European times. -One set running through Sanskrit, Lithuanian, and Old Slavonic implies, -as the Sanskrit _kṛtyâ_ shows, that magic is ‘action’ or ‘doing’. -The Old Norse _görningar_, ‘sorceries or witchcraft,’ literally means -‘doing’; and in Old Slavonic the word for magic (_po-tvorü_) is derived -from a verb meaning ‘to do’. As illustrating the belief that the witch -has power, I may refer to Canidia’s words in the _Epodes_ (xvii. 77): - - et polo - deripere Lunam vocibus possim meis, - possim crematos excitare mortuos; - -or to Medea’s in Ovid (_Met._ vii. 206): - - iubeoque - et mugire solum, manesque exire sepulcris; - -and (_Rem. Am._ 253): - - tumulo prodire iubebitur umbra. - -Still more clearly does Plato in the _Laws_ (933 A) testify to -the belief in the power of the witch or magician: those who dare to do -injury by ἐπῳδαῖς, or ‘singing’, are encouraged to do so by the belief -that they have the power to do so--ὡς δύνανται τὸ τοιοῦτον--and their -victims are thoroughly convinced that they are injured because those -who practise on them have the power to bewitch them, ὡς παντὸς μᾶλλον -ὑπὸ τούτων δυναμένων γοητεύειν βλάπτονται. - -To sum up then, thus far, a magician is a person feared, and having -power, which power he exercises in secret, muttering in a low voice, -‘May your heart be rent asunder,’ or ‘your head be split open’, and so -on. And this muttering is the _carmen_, the _incantatio_, the ἑπαοιδή, -the βασκανία and the γοητεία of the Greeks and Romans; the ‘singing’ of -the Australian black fellows. That this magical ‘singing’ continued, -down to late classical and post-classical times, to be a whispering or -a murmuring in a low voice, is easily shown. A _lex Cornelia_ condemned -those ‘qui susurris magicis homines occiderunt’ (Just. _Inst._ iv. 18. -5). In Ovid we have ‘carmen magico demurmurat ore’ (_Met._ xiv. -57), and ‘placavit precibusque et murmure longo’ (ib. vii. 251); in -Tibullus (i. 2. 47) ‘iam tenet infernas magico stridore catervas’ -(where _stridor_ = _murmur_, as in Sil. Ital. viii. 562); in Apuleius -(_Metamorph._ i. 3), ‘magico susurramine amnes ... reverti,’ and (_de -Magia_, c. 47) ‘et carminibus murmurata’; and in Aristaenetus (_Ep._ -ii. 18), ὑποφθεγγόμενος ἑπικλήσεις καὶ ψιθυρίζων ἁπατηλῶν γοητευμάτων -λόγους φρικώδεις, and in the Greek magical papyri ποππυσμός, στεναγμός -and συριγμός have the same meaning and use (Wessely, _Pap._ CXXI, -833-5). - -I have next to note that in Australia and the Torres Straits the -magician not only mutters words but points in the direction of his -victim with a stick, bone, or spear. This gesture seems to be as -essential to the desired effect as the ‘singing’ itself. The fact seems -to be that the pointing of the stick is a piece of gesture-language -conveying the same idea as the words that are sung; in both the power -of the magician goes forth and strikes the victim, rending his heart -or splitting his head. The question then arises whether we have in -Graeco-Italian magic anything that corresponds to this ‘pointing’, as -it is termed in Australia, and to the stick thus pointed at the person -to be bewitched or enchanted. I can only suggest that the ῥάβδος, -or _virga_, with which, in the _Odyssey_ (x. 238, 319, &c.), Circe -works witchcraft, or Hermes, both in the _Iliad_ (xxiv. 343) and the -_Odyssey_ (v. 47), entrances men, or Athene transforms Ulysses (xvi. -172), may possibly be a literary version or survival of the primitive -pointing-stick become a magic wand. A wand is a common part of a -magician‘s outfit. - -The blow or thrust which the magician executes with his pointing-stick -or staff is supposed to inflict the injury on his victim; and nothing -more may be required or done. But usually the magician is not content -merely to point his stick in the direction of his victim. To make -sure that the blow reaches the head or the heart, he makes a rough -image of his victim out of clay or wax or wood, and stabs that in the -appropriate place. In doing so, the savage confuses--and even civilized -man does not yet always satisfactorily discriminate between--the -categories of likeness and identity. The blow which the magician -intends to inflict, and the thrust which he actually deals with his -pointing-stick, are like and are meant to be identical, and are -believed to be so, and, if he has power, they prove to be identical. -The image, also, is, to the mind of the believer, not merely like, but -in some manner identical with, the victim who suffers and is consumed, -like as and to the same degree as the image, and at the very same -moment. The Ojibway Indian believes ‘that wherever the needle pierces -or the arrow strikes the image, his foe will the same instant be seized -with a sharp pain in the corresponding part of his body’ (Frazer, _G. -B._^2 i. 10). I need not quote instances from Australia or Africa to -corroborate this, but, as indicating that the practice goes back to -Indo-European times, I may refer to the _Rigveda_ (iii. 523) and the -_Atharva-Veda_ (i. 7. 2); and for a Latin parallel to the Indian image -pierced by a needle I need only refer to Ovid (_Heroides_ vi. 91, 92): - - simulacraque cerea fingit, - et miserum tenuis in iecur urget acus. - -For the Greek use of waxen images I may refer to Plato, who in the -_Laws_ (933 B) speaks of the alarm felt by men ἄν ποτε ἄρα -ἴδωρί που κήρινα μιμήματα πεπλασμένα, and for other instances to O. -Kehr, _Quaest. Mag. Spec._ 12 f. In Theocritus the wax which is spoken -of, καρόν, is not indeed described as an image, but it doubtless was; -and the mention of it may serve as an excuse for remarking that, though -the details into which magic is worked out by different peoples vary -considerably, and though the applications which different peoples make -of it are far from uniform, still amongst all peoples there are two -matters with which magic always, without exception, deals--Love and -Death. Thus far it is with the latter that I have dealt. I now, for the -moment, turn to the former, and I propose to indicate briefly that the -magical methods of procuring Love are precisely the same as those for -procuring Death. The power which is used for the one end is equally -potent for the other. - -For Death-magic, as we have seen, it is essential that the person -working magic should believe that he has the power, and that others -also should believe him to have it; and all that is necessary is that -the magician should put forth the power that he possesses; and this he -does by means of words and gesture-language. So too in Love-magic, in -the Torres Straits, the essential thing is that the young man should -anoint himself on the temples with a paste made from certain plants, -and ‘think as intently as possible about the girl’ (_Expedition to -Torres Straits_, vi. 221), saying to himself, ‘You come! you come! you -come!’ for, Mr. Haddon tells us, ‘the power of words and the projection -of the will were greatly believed in by the natives’ (220); and when a -young man performed the foregoing operations, at a dance or any meeting -at which women would be present, ‘the girl could not resist, but was -bound to go with him’ (221). In Rome there was the same belief in the -power of words: Virgil, in _Eclogue_ viii, imitates Theocritus, but -deviates in details, and one such deviation shows the Roman’s belief in -the power of words, of the _carmen_. Whereas Theocritus says: - - ἴυγξ, ἔλκε τὺ τῆνον ἑμὸν ποτὶ δῶμα τὸν ἄνδρα, - -Virgil says: - - Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnin. - -So, too, the power of the spell is attested by Propertius (iv. 4. 51): - - O! utinam magicae nossem cantamina Musae, - -and Ovid (_Her._ vi. 83): - - Nec facie meritisve placet, sed carmina novit, - -and Seneca (_Herc. Oet._ 464): - - Flectemus illum, carmina invenient iter, - -and Lucan (vi. 452): - - Carmine Thessalidum dura in praecordia fluxit - Non fatis addictus amor. - -and Tibullus (i. 8. 23): - - Quid queror heu misero carmen nocuisse, quid herbas? - -In the next place, as Death-magic was considered to gain in efficiency -if the magician did not merely ‘point’ with his stick in the direction -of his foe, but made an image and wounded it; so Love-magic used a -waxen image, and by melting it consumed with love the person imaged: - - Haec ut cera liquescit - Uno eodemque igni, sic nostro Daphnis amore. - _Ecl._ viii. 80. - -And in Horace the waxen image is thrown into the -flames and consumed: - - imagine cerea - Largior arserit ignis. - _Sat._ i. 8. 43. - -Where sickness, and deaths following on sickness, are ascribed to the -action of some malevolent person possessing and exercising mysterious -power, that is to say, are explained as being due to magic, the -assumption evidently made is that death from sickness is an occurrence -which would not take place in the ordinary course of nature, and which -therefore must be due to some person who has the power and the art to -disturb the ordinary course of nature. This conception of magic is of -course not confined to the lower stages of culture; we find it in the -definition of the magician given by Quintilian, ‘cuius ars est ire -contra naturam’ (_Declamationes_ x. sub fin.). The cure for sickness -naturally presents itself as consisting in counteracting the power of -the person who produced it. Some one must be procured who possesses -power equally great, or greater; and he employs his power in the same -way as the person who produced the sickness, but to the opposite end. -The author of the sickness ‘sings’ his victim, that is, rhythmically -mutters in a low voice, ‘May your heart be rent asunder,’ &c., and, as -Mr. Haddon tells us of the Torres Straits natives, ‘thinks as intently -as possible’ (221), or ‘projects his will’. Now, amongst the -Indo-European peoples, the person who cured the sickness proceeded in -exactly the same way; he too had a _carmen_, an ἐπῳδή, with which to -‘sing’ his patient. According to the _Atharva-Veda_ (iv. 12) he sang: - - Let marrow join to marrow, and let limb to limb be joined. - Grow flesh that erst had pined away, and now grow every bone also. - Marrow now unite with marrow, and let hide on hide increase. - -And the well-known Merseburg charm employs much the same formulae: ‘Let -bone to bone and blood to blood and limb to limb be joined.’ Probably -Cato’s charm, or _carmen auxiliare_--good for _luxatis membris_--was of -this kind (Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxviii. 21). In the _Avesta_, healing -by singing has a special word for its designation--mᾳθrò-baêšaza. In -the _Odyssey_ (xix. 457) the ἑπαοιδή by which the flow of blood from -Odysseus’s wound was stayed was a ‘singing’ of the same kind. Amongst -the Romans, Pliny says (_Hist. Nat._ xxviii. 29) ‘carmina quaedam -exstant contra grandines contraque morborum genera’. And the Greek word -φάρμακον bears double evidence to the same effect; its etymological -connexion with Lithuanian words meaning ‘to sing’, in this sense, shows -that it was originally an ἑπαοιδή, a charm or a counter-charm; and it -is used throughout Greek literature to connote both bane and antidote: - - φάρμακα πολλὰ μὲν ἑσθλά ... πολλὰ δὲ λυγρά. - _Od._ iv. 230. - -The Latin _mederi_, _medicus_, _medicina_, like the corresponding term -(_vi-maδay_) in the _Avesta_, go back to a root meaning wisdom--the -wisdom of the ‘wise’ woman. The name ‘Medea’ belongs to the same stock -and means ‘wise’ woman; and the wisdom presumably consisted originally -in the knowledge of the charms (or ‘carmina contra morborum genera’) -and simples, just as the ἱατρός or ἱητήρ may have got his name from ἱός -and the fact that he dealt in drugs which might, according as they were -used, be either the bane or the antidote. That in Greece the ἱατρὄς -originally effected his cures by means of spells, soothing spells, is -indicated by Pindar (_Pyth._ iii. 55), who is doubtless reproducing the -popular belief when he says that Chiron loosed and rescued his patients -from divers pangs, - - τοὺς μὲν μαλακαῖς ἑπαοιδαῖς ἁμφέπων, - τοὺς δὲ προσανέα πίνοντας, ἣ γυίοις περάπτων πάντοθεν - φάρμακα. - -In all ages ‘suggestion’ has operated for good in medical treatment; -but it operates only so far as the patient believes that his healer -has power and exercises that power to do him good. The medicine-man -in early times exercises that power either by gestures which indicate -that power is going from him, or by the words with which he banishes or -overcomes the sickness. And in either case he effects his faith-healing -in exactly the same way as the evil-minded possessor of magical power -causes sickness and death by word and gesture, by ‘singing’ and -‘pointing’. - -To the mind of the believer in magic the image of a man is not merely -like him but is in a mysterious way identical with him, so that blows -dealt on the image are felt by the man, and the man and his image are -as closely related to one another as is the exterior of a curve to the -interior; and so, to the mind of the believer in magic, the relation -of a man’s name to the man himself is equally intimate and close. -Hence, by way of precaution, the name of a man is often kept a profound -secret. The same secrecy too may be observed about the name of a god, -or of a city. It would not be surprising, therefore, if the name of a -man were put by the magician to the same use as his image, for the name -is, if anything, even more intimately identified with the man than any -likeness of him can be; and, as a matter of fact, the secrecy, which is -often observed about the name of a man or a god, is observed because -control of the name is assumed and believed to involve control over the -person. If, therefore, the image of a man can be used for malevolent -purposes by a magician, so too may his name. The savage’s objection -to being photographed, as is well known, is due to the feeling that -with his likeness he himself passes into the power of the possessor. I -need hardly point out that pictorial signs and writing and runes are -regarded, at first, by those who do not understand them, as mysterious -and magical, as σήματα λυγρά. The written name of a person is as -intimately bound up with the person’s identity as his likeness or a -waxen image of him. The name may therefore be used by the magician for -the same purposes and in the same way as the image. If the magician -can, as the aborigines of Victoria do, ‘draw on the ground a rude -likeness of the victim’ (Frazer, _G. B._^2 i. 12), if ‘in Eastern Java -an enemy may be killed by means of a likeness of him drawn on a piece -of paper which is then incensed or buried in the ground’ (ib., 11), it -is obvious that his name, which is identical with him, may be treated -in the same way and with the same result. It may be written down and -stabbed or incensed or buried in the ground, and the desired result -will be produced. Now, just as the Ojibway Indian pierces the image of -his enemy with a needle, so the Greek or the Roman wrote down the name -of his enemy, drove a nail into it, and then buried it in the ground. -This proceeding was called κατάδεσις or _defixio_. ‘Nailed him’ was -doubtless the comforting reflection which accompanied the final blow of -the hammer. That it was the name which was nailed, just as the image -was pierced by the needle, is not a matter of inference: one of the -tablets of this kind, which have come down to us (_C. I. A._, _Appendix -continens defixionum tabellas_ 57), expressly says (line 20) ὄνομα -καταδῶ. And, to leave no room for doubting that to nail the name of the -enemy was to nail the enemy himself, just as piercing his image with -a needle was to pierce the enemy himself, the inscription says ὄνομα -καταδῶ καὶ αὐτόν, ‘I nail his name, that is himself.’ The identity -of name and person is thus expressly proclaimed; and it is precisely -parallel to the identity of the person and his image, or likeness, -which we find to be assumed wherever magic is found to exist. - -Perhaps I should remark in passing that other things besides a person’s -name or image may be ‘nailed’ or ‘defixed’. His footprints may be, and -are, thus treated both by savages and by European peasants. In the same -way, we learn from Pliny (_Nat. Hist._ xxviii. 63), the epilepsy which -had attacked a man might be ‘nailed down’ and the patient cured by -driving an iron nail into the spot touched by the head of the patient -when he fell (‘clavum ferreum defigere in quo locum primum caput -fixerit corruens morbo comitiali absolutorium eius mali dicitur’). And -there can be little doubt that this kind of ‘defixion’ goes back to -very early Italian times, for, from of old when a pestilence raged, -a consul might drive a nail into the wall of the Celia Iovis, and so -the pestilence was stayed. Perhaps the _clavus trabalis_ which was an -attribute of _dira Necessitas_ (Horace, _Odes_ i. 35. 17, iii. 24. 5) -belongs to the same range of ideas (cf. Kuhnert’s article on _Defixio_ -in Pauly’s _Real-Encyclopädie_). - -Here too I should perhaps say that, as the _defixionum tabellae_ have -nails driven through them, there can be little doubt that the verb -καταδέω and the substantives κατάδεσις and κατάδεσμος must be used in -the sense of hammering a nail in, or fastening with a nail (as Pindar -uses the simple verb δέω, in δῆησεν ἄλοις, _Pyth._ iv. 71), and are not -used in this connexion to mean simply ‘tying up’. So too in _D. T. -A._, 96, 97 ἓδησα τὴν γλῶτταν is shown by the convertible expression -κέντησον αὐτοῦ τὴν γλῶτταν to mean ‘pierce’ or ‘nail’, and not ‘tie up’. - -As then the Ojibway Indian, or the Australian black fellow, or the -native of the Torres Straits, does his magic without calling in any -god to his assistance, so too the Greek could ‘nail’ his man without -applying to the gods; and we have ample inscriptional evidence that he -did so. Nearly one-third of the Attic tablets contain merely proper -names with a nail driven into them; and about one-third more contain -the statement καταδῶ or καταδίδημι, without any reference to gods of -any sort or kind. The Latin tablets of the same kind, which like the -Attic tablets are of lead and have nails driven through them, also -frequently contain merely proper names and nothing more. Of this kind -evidently were those mentioned by Tacitus (_Ann._ ii. 69), ‘carmina et -devotiones et nomen Germanici plumbeis tabulis insculptum.’ It is true -that the tablets which have been discovered have mostly been found in -tombs. But if we were to seek to found on this fact an argument that -the tablets--where they mention no gods--were addressed to the dead, -we should have first to show that such tablets were never deposited -elsewhere than in tombs. As a matter of fact, a magical papyrus (CXXI, -vs. 458) gives instructions as to where a tablet of this kind should be -deposited, viz. ἢ ποταμὸν ἢ γῆν ἢ θάλασσαν ἤγουν ἢ θήκην ἢ εἰς φρέαρ. -We see therefore a plain reason why most of the tablets that have been -preserved have been found in tombs: many, possibly most, were thrown -into rivers, or the sea, or disused wells (εἱς φρέαρ ἁχρημάτιστον, -_Pap. Anast._ 351), as in Scotland the clay figure of your enemy is, or -was, placed in a burn (_Albany Review_, iii. 17, p. 532), and therefore -have not been preserved to us. - -They have been rarely discovered by us, for the simple reason that the -person who hid them away was particularly anxious that they should not -be discovered. It was important that the person ‘defixed’ should not -know by whom or in what way he had been ‘defixed’, for, if he knew, -he might undo the spell and retaliate on its worker. The tablet was -concealed--often enough in tombs, for graves are avoided--for the same -reason that the authors of these tablets often take care not to put -their own names to them, viz. in order that the spell might not be -frustrated. But though we cannot attach any great importance to the -fact that most of our tablets have been found in tombs, still it is -true that many of the Attic tablets, and perhaps most of the Latin -tablets, contain a direct and explicit appeal to the gods. Hence it -is possible to maintain, and indeed it is usually maintained, as by -Wuensch, in the _Corpus Inscriptionum Atticarum_, that in all cases -these tablets are addressed to the gods; and that, where no gods are -mentioned, we must yet suppose that the gods, or some gods, were prayed -to fulfil the evil wishes of the person who wrote the name of his -victim and pierced it with the nail. The alternative which I venture -to suggest is that originally the _defixio_ or κατάδεσμος was purely -magical; that, later, an appeal to the gods was added to the original -spell; and, last of all, the magical element was overpowered by the -religious, or the religious by the magical. In order to decide between -these two alternative explanations, what we have to do is to inquire -who it is that is supposed by the writer of a tablet of this kind to -nail or ‘defix’ or pierce the person who is to suffer. Is it the writer -of the tablet, or is it a god? If it is the writer, the proceeding is -magical in its nature; if a god, it is religious in its nature. From -this point of view we may go so far as to concede that the absence of -any mention of the gods on the tablet does not of itself suffice to -prove that no thought of them was present in the mind of the writer of -the tablet. The decisive question is, Who does the nailing or defixing? -Has the writer the power to do it, or must he get a god to do it? The -question is perfectly simple, and the answer is perfectly plain; in -many or most of the Attic tablets it is the writer who has the power, -and he exercises it. He says, τούτους ἄπαντας καταδῶ (43), τούτους -ἑγὼ καταδίδημι ἄπαντας (55); and he exercises his power with no more -reference to the gods, and no more thought of them, than the Australian -magician when he ‘points’ his stick, or the German peasant girl when -she ‘sticht um Mitternacht in eine unter Beschwörungen angezündete -Kerze einige Nadeln und spricht: “ich stech das Licht, ich stech das -Licht, ich stech das Herz, das ich liebe”’ (Schönwerth, _Aus der -Oberpfalz: Sitten und Sagen_, i, p. 127). - -On the other hand are the tablets in which the writer does not profess -to ‘defix’ his adversary, and does not claim to be able to ‘defix’ him, -but prays to a god to do it, and uses an imperative, κέντησον αὐτοῦ -τὴν γλῶσσαν (97), ἄξον καὶ κατάδησον (xxiii). - -In such tablets the _modus operandi_ is no longer magical, it is wholly -religious; the power to punish lies wholly with the gods, and they are -called upon to exercise it. And we are able to trace the process by -which the one kind of tablet passed into the other, or by which the -one kind came to supersede the other. The first step in the process -is illustrated by tablets in which the writer begins by announcing in -the traditional magical style, ‘I nail or bind my enemies,’ but goes -on--in order to make assurance doubly sure--to add an appeal to a god -or gods. Thus in 81 he says καταδέω τοὺς ἑμοὶ ἑχθροὺς πρὸς τὸν Ἐρμῆν. -One of these inscriptions (87) can be dated back to the fourth century -B.C. When Hermes is thus adjured he is nearly always decorated -with the epithet κάτοχον, as in 87 τούτους πάντας καταδῶ πρὸς τὸν -κάτοχον Ὲρμῆν. The epithet is not an idle one, as is shown by the fact -that the corresponding verb, κατέχω, is used in these tablets in the -imperative in the same sense as κατάδησον. Thus in 88 the prayer to -Hermes runs, Ἑρμῆ κάτοχε, κάτεχε φρένας γλῶτταν τοῦ Καλλίου. Hermes, -however, is not the only deity to whom the epithet is applied, and -this imperative addressed. In 101 Gê is termed Γῆ κάτοχος, and in 98 -the prayer is φίλη Γῆ, κάτεχε Εὑρυπτόλεμον. It so happens that in -the tablets that have come down to us Hermes and Gê are the only two -deities of whom the epithet κάτοχος and the verb κατέχω are used; and -Boeckh was probably right in saying (_C. I. G._ 539) that the earth and -Hermes were originally (and, we may add, without any reference to magic -at all) called κάτοχοι, because they kept down the dead and prevented -them from returning. Then, when the magical practice of nailing down -or binding your living foe developed, by an easy transition of ideas -the deities, whose business it had originally been to hold down the -dead alone, were invoked to hold down and restrain the living also: -‘vocis vis ad καταδέσμων rationem translata videtur, ut iam κάτοχοι -θεοί essent ii, qui defixos a magis homines detinerent.’ Thus Earth -and Hermes were called in to reinforce the magician’s κατάδεσμος. This -is indeed expressly stated on a leaden tablet discovered in Alexandria -(Wuensch, p. xv): πότνια Γῆ ὁρκίζω σε κατὰ σοῦ ὁνόματος ποιῆσαι τὴν -πρᾶξιν ταύτην καὶ τηρῆσαί μοι τὸν κατάδεσμον τοῦτον καὶ ποιῆσαι αὑτὸν -ἑνεργῆ. That the gods are called in to give effect to a magical rite -which has been performed is shown by inscriptions 96 and 97, where the -tablet begins by saying that the magical rite has been performed, ἑγὼ -ἕλαβον καὶ ἔδησα τὴν γλῶτταν καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν κτλ., and then goes on to -pray to the god, κέντησον αὑτοῦ τὴν γλῶτταν κτλ. Here the prayer to -the gods is in effect a postscript to the magical rite. So, too, in -Ovid (_Fasti_ ii. 575) a ceremony of this kind, which is performed -as part of the worship of the Dea Muta, ends up with the declaration -that we--viz. the old woman who has performed the rite--we, ‘hostiles -linguas inimicaque vinximus ora’; she has used an iron nail and driven -it through the head of a _maena_. But the tendency which manifests -itself in the evolution of the Attic tablets is for the postscript -to grow in importance and size, until the magic dwindles and almost -disappears. For instance, 98 does indeed begin by saying formally -Εὑρυπτόλεμον καταδῶ, but the whole of the rest of the inscription is a -genuine prayer, φίλη Γῆ κάτεχε, φίλη Γῆ βοήθει μοι. While recognizing -however, that this is the tendency in the genuine Attic tablets, it -is desirable to notice that in the Roman empire generally the magical -element swells until it entirely drives out the religious. All kinds -of deity, from religions of every sort, are indeed invoked in these -later inscriptions, both Greek and Latin. But they are invoked only -to receive commands from the magician and to do his will: in the -Hadrumetan tablet of the third century A.D. the deity adjured -is just told to go off and fetch Urbanus, ἄπελθε πρὸς τὸν Οὑρβανὸν -καὶ ἅξον αὑτόν (_Wuensch_, p. xvii), and the lady who thus addresses -him has the power to order him about because she knows--and bids him -hearken to--an ὀνόματος ἑντείμου καὶ φοβεροῦ καὶ μεγάλοῦ. And he is to -lose no time about it: the inscription ends, ἥδη ἥδη ταχὺ ταχύ. - -Thus the history of these _defixionum tabellae_ shows how a ceremony, -in its origin purely magical, may in the course of its evolution run -out in either of two directions: it may either end in what is in effect -a prayer, or it may develop into that form of magic in which the -magician undertakes boldly to constrain the gods. In the earliest, and -purely magical, form of ‘defixion’, the witch or wizard drives a nail -or a needle through the written name of the victim, just as he would -through a waxen image of the victim. From _Ovid_ (_Amores_ iii. 7. 29) -we learn that the witch wrote the victim’s name on wax and then pierced -it: ‘sagave poenicea defixit nomina cera.’ In the Parisian Papyrus -316 it is τὸ ὄνομα τῆς ἀγομένης which is thus treated; and in a Latin -‘defixion’ the expression is ‘neca illa nomina’ (Fahz, _de poetarum -Romanorum doctrina magica_, p. 127, n. 4). Then, as the worker of magic -drove nails through the head of the waxen image, and is instructed, -in the Parisian Papyrus (_Rhein. Mus._ xlix. 45 ff.), to say, as he -does so, περονῶ σου τὸν ἐγκέφαλον, so in the Attic tablets he says -(54) τὴν γλῶτταν καταδῶ χεῖρα αὑτοῦ καταδῶ, and drives a nail or nails -through the leaden tablet bearing the words. Again, as in course of -time the piercing or melting of the waxen image comes to be regarded -not as effective in itself but as merely symbolical of the effect which -is to be produced, and the words come to be ‘haec ut cera liquescit, -sic nostro Daphnis amore’, so in the ‘defixionum tabellae’ (e. g. _C. -I. L._ viii, suppl. n. 12511), after the gods have been adjured, and -the order given κατάδησον αὑτῶν τὰ σκέλη κτλ., then, to make it quite -clear, it is explained that the legs and hands and head of the victim -are to be ‘defixed’ or nailed down in the same way as the feet and -hands and head of this fowl: ὡς οὗτος ὁ ἀλέκτωρ καταδέδεται τοῖς -ποσὶ καὶ ταῖς χερσὶ καὶ τῇ κεφαλῇ, οὔτως καταδήσατε τὰ σκέλη καὶ τὰς -χεῖρας καὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν καὶ τὴν καρδίαν Βικτωρικοῦ τοῦ ἡνιόχου. This -tablet, which was found in Carthage, is late, and the adjuration is -made in the name of the god of heaven that sits upon the Cherubim, τοῦ -καθημένου ἐπὶ τῶν Χερουβί. What is noticeable in this tablet and some -others of similar date and style is that they contain no allegation -that the person on whose behalf the magic is worked and constraint is -put upon the gods has been wronged. On the other hand, in the earlier -and Attic tablets, especially those which tend in effect to become -prayers, the ground of appeal to the gods is some wrong that has been -done. Thus 98 ends with the words, φίλη Γῆ βοήθει μοι’ ἀδικούμενος γὰρ -ὑπὸ Εὐρυπτολέμου καὶ Ξενοφῶντος καταδῶ αὐτούς. Or it may be some injury -that is feared: εἴ τι μέλλειε ὑπὲρ Φίλωνος ῥῆμα μοχθηρὸν φθέγγεσθαι, -then τὴν γλῶσσαν καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτῶν κέντησον (97). In Cyprus if what -an adversary might say is feared, then the powers invoked are adjured -to muzzle him: φιμώσουσιν τὸν ἀντίδικον ἐμοῦ, and the exorcism is -termed a φιμωτικοῦ καταθέματος, or a παραθήκην φιμωτικήν. It is, of -course, probable, we may even venture to say certain, that in these -tablets the appeal to the justice of the gods is essentially religious -in its character. And in that case the combination, in these tablets, -of magic with religion shows that in the minds of some worshippers -of the gods there was no irreconcilable opposition between magic and -religion. On the contrary, the feeling evidently was that the gods -might properly be invoked to favour and bless a magical rite, just as -they might be prayed to assist any other steps of a more ordinary -nature that might be taken. Magic is but one way or means of effecting -your end; and it is a means which is just as efficacious for a good -end as it is for an evil purpose. The magician is a person who has -power, which he may use for evil, or may use for good. He may use his -power to cause sickness or to bring misfortune. But he may use it to -avert sickness and to muzzle the mouth of the evil-doer. He may use it -to make rain, and, while doing so, may pray to the gods for the same -purpose. Such a man may have, as he is certainly often believed to -have, extraordinary personal power; and there is no obvious reason why -he should not pray to the gods to exercise that power in accordance -with their will. But he can only pray to the gods if there are gods to -whom he can pray. On the other hand, even where there are such gods, -he may prefer--and if his purpose be such as the gods condemn, he -must prefer--to disregard the gods or, if needs be, to put constraint -upon them. That is to say, the extraordinary personal power which -he possesses, or is believed to possess, is not in itself either -necessarily religious or necessarily irreligious. It may become, or -come to be regarded as, either the one or the other. If it is regarded, -or rather so far as it is regarded, as irreligious it is condemned: -‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ is exactly paralleled by the -Athenian law quoted by Demosthenes, φαρμακέα καὶ φαρμακίδα, καὶ αὐτοὺς -καὶ τὸ γένος ἅπαν ἀποκτεῖναι (_c. Aristogit._ i. 793). If we start -from this point of view nothing seems more reasonable than to assert a -fundamental opposition between magic and religion. On the other hand, -if we consider the beneficent use which is made of magic and the fact -that, as in the defixion tablets already quoted, magic and religion may -and do work harmoniously together, the relation between them does not -seem to be fundamentally one of opposition. The fact would seem to be -that this extraordinary personal power, as it is in itself neither good -nor bad, but becomes the one or the other according as it is used for -good ends or for bad, so it is in itself neither magical nor religious -but comes to be regarded as religious if used in the service of the -gods, and as magic if used otherwise. But it is not until gods are -believed in that this power can be used in their service or regarded -as their gift: only when belief in the gods has arisen can the person -possessing power be regarded as having derived his power from them, or -believe himself so to have derived it. It may well be that his power -confirms his belief and strengthens it; it may perhaps even be that -his power is the first thing to awaken him to belief in gods and to -the possibility of communing with them in his heart. But the belief -that there are superior beings, with whom it is possible to commune in -one’s heart, is not the same thing as the extraordinary personal power -which some men exert over others. Such belief and such power may indeed -go together, but they do not by any means always go together; and -accordingly the power cannot be regarded as the cause of the belief. - -Again, it is not until men come to believe that there are gods, who -have the interests of their worshippers at heart, that the man who -possesses this power and uses it for evil purposes can be condemned by -the opinion of the community as one who works against the community, -and therefore against the god who protects the community. In other -words, we may say that this extraordinary personal power does not -come to be regarded as magic--indeed, that magic does not come into -existence--until religion has come into existence. When exercised -by ‘a man of God’, it is religious; when exerted by any one else -it is magical. The magician may use, and more often than not, does -use his power in a way injurious to other members of the community, -and therefore offensive to the god under whose protection they are. -From this point of view, therefore, we may justifiably speak of a -fundamental opposition between magic and religion. On the other hand, -though the magician ordinarily uses his power to injure people, he is -not restricted to this use of it. His power may be used to recall an -errant lover, as it is by the lady in the Hadrumetan tablet already -quoted, or for the recovery of lost or stolen property. One of the -‘defixion’ tablets is directed to the recovery of τὸ ἱμάτιον τὸ πελλόν, -τὸ ἔλαβεν ὁ δεῖνα καὶ οὐκ ἀποδίδωτι καὶ ἀρνεῖται καὶ χρῆται (_I. G. -S. I._ 644), another seeks to recover τὰ ὑπ’ ἐμοῦ καταλίφθεντα ἱμάτια -καὶ ἔνδυμα (Bechtel, 3537) or τὴν σπατάλην ἢν ἀπώλεσα ἐν τοῖς κήποις -τοῖε Ῥοδοκλεῦς (Bechtel, 3541). The magician, that is to say, may use -his power for innocent and even laudable purposes. Hence it is that -magic is not wholly condemned by any community in which it flourishes; -and hence it is that we find magic reinforced by religion not only -in the _defixionum tabellae_, as has already been pointed out, but -in numerous rites of uncultured peoples, and from time to time, as -survivals, in the religious ceremonies of civilized nations. If we -dwell upon this set of facts exclusively, we shall be in danger of -inferring, not a fundamental opposition but a fundamental identity -between magic and religion. Yet, as we have seen, the opposition is -quite as marked as the similarity; and this seems to indicate that the -extraordinary personal power which some men possess, or are believed to -possess, is fundamentally the same, whether it is, or whether it is not, -exercised in the service of the gods of the community; but the spirit -in which it is used, when employed in the one way, is fundamentally -opposed to that in which it is used in the other. Such power may in the -course of evolution come to be regarded, or come to manifest itself, -either as religious or as magical. But in itself, and at the start, -inasmuch as it may become either hereafter, it is at the beginning -neither. It is the power--whether of ‘suggestion’ or of actual -control--which some exceptional men exercise over others. - - - - -LECTURE V - -HERODOTUS AND ANTHROPOLOGY - - -Earlier lectures of this course have dealt with topics suggested by -the first civilization of the Aegean, by the first literature of the -Greeks, and by the survival in Graeco-Roman culture of traces of a -quite unhellenic barbarism. - -To-day we come to the fifth century and to the work of the man who -stands next after Homer as exponent, on a generous scale, of his -country’s thought and life. Homer has shown us Aegean life in a lull -between the storms of the Age of Wanderings, between the Achaean and -the Dorian Migrations. Herodotus shows us adolescent Greece, the child -of Earth and Planet, strangling, like Heracles, the snakes about its -cradle, and rising thence to strike down Giants and Monsters, and to -enter into its kingdom. This kingdom, for him, is nothing less than -the περίοδος γῆς, the _orbis terrarum_, a rim of convergent coastlands -encircling the Midland Sea, which is ‘Our Sea’. - -But there is this difference between Homer and Herodotus, when we see -them from our present point of view. Homer, and to a great extent the -post-Homeric Epic, sang of the world in sheer delight of its objective -goodness. Their contribution to anthropological science is the picture -which they have given of the world as they saw it and lived in it. The -contribution of anthropology to them is an interpretation of that -picture based on comparative study of other worlds than theirs. With -Herodotus, too, what first strikes the eye of the anthropological -reader is the wealth of detail about the manners and customs of Greeks -and their neighbours, a collection unrivalled in Greek literature -before the Roman Age in extent and variety, and quite unique in its -quality. And for Herodotus, too, the first duty of anthropology is to -interpret his picture of mankind; to illustrate by parallel cases; -to extract by comparison the genuine observation from the blundered -folk-tale commentary; to fill the blanks in the picture itself with -such fragments of fifth-century knowledge as have been preserved -in other hands than his. To do this adequately would require many -lectures, even were his picture of ancient life far more complete than -it is; and in the fragmentary state in which Herodotus has transmitted -our share of his knowledge, the commentator’s difficulty is increased -manifold. A sketch of a single custom, a casual footnote to a footnote -of apparently disjointed matter, may well need a monograph to itself. I -need only instance, for an Oxford public, the two Herodotean papers in -last year’s _Anthropological Essays presented to Edward Burnett Tylor_. - -To this extent Herodotus falls into line with Homer as the subject -of lectures like these; but in proportion as he is regarded so, he -falls for this practical reason wholly beyond their scope. But there -is another aspect of Herodotean anthropology, which is almost wholly -absent from Homeric, and is only partially present even in Hesiodic. -Between Homer and Herodotus, Greek Reason has come into the world. -After Homer, Greek literature, whether poetry or prose, has its -subjective, its reflective side. Man has become the measure of all -things; and things are worth observing and recording--they become -ἀξιαπήγητα, θέας ἄξια or the reverse, according as they do, or do not, -amplify human knowledge already acquired, or prompt or guide human -attempts to classify and interpret them. In this high meaning of the -word all Greek thought and records are utilitarian, relative to an end -in view: and this end is ever anthropocentric, it is nothing less, but -it is also nothing more, than the Good Life, the Wellbeing of Mankind. -On this broad ground, pre-Socratic and Socratic thought are at one, -alike Hellenic in spirit, because alike utilitarian. ‘It is not for -this that I speculate,’ said Thales, when he ‘struck oil’. It was -precisely for this, to make philosophy useful, that Socrates brought it -from heaven down to earth. - -So what is proposed, in this lecture, is to attempt an answer to the -question, How far was a science of anthropology, in the sense in which -we understand it, contemplated as possible in the Great Age of Greece? -What were the principles on which it rested? How far had Herodotus and -his contemporaries gone in the way of realizing their conceptions of -such a science? And what were the causes, external to the study itself, -which helped or hindered their realization of it? - -It will be clear, I think, from the outset, that this inquiry has -nothing to do with the question whether this or that observation on -the part of Herodotus was accurately made or not. The only way in -which Herodotean error or ‘malignity’ will concern us at all is if the -sources of an error can be so far exposed as to betray what he -was thinking about when he made it. For there are two kinds of -anthropologists, as there are two kinds of workers in every department -of knowledge. But in a science which is still in so infantile a stage -as ours, there is more than common distinctness between them. - -There is an anthropologist to whom we go for our facts: the painful -accurate observer of data, the storehouse of infinite detail; sometimes -himself the traveller and explorer, by cunning speech or wiser silence -opening the secrets of aboriginal hearts; sometimes the middleman, -the broker of traveller’s winnings, insatiate after some new thing, -unerring by instinct rather than by experience, to detect false coin, -to disinter the pearl of great price, βιβλιοθήκη τις ἔμψυχος καὶ -περιπατοῦν μουσεῖον. To him we go for our facts. His views may matter -little; his great book may be put together upon whatever ephemeral -hypothesis he may choose. We learn his doctrine as we master the method -of an index; it will guide us, more or less securely, to the data we -want; but it is the document in the footnote that we are looking for, -and the compiler’s voucher (express or implicit) that in his judgement -‘this is evidence’. - -And there is an anthropologist to whom we look for our light. His -learning may be fragmentary, as some men count learning; his memory -faulty; his inaccuracy beyond dispute; his inconsistency the one -consistent thing about him. But with shattered and rickety instruments -he attains results; heedless of epicycles, disrespectful to the -equator, he bequeaths his paradoxes to be demonstrated by another -generation of men. He may not know, or reason, perhaps; but he has -learnt to see; and what he sees he says. For he too is a μουσεῖον--only -in another sense--a Walking Tabernacle of the Nine.[64] - -There have been anthropologists, in our own time and before, who have -come near to combine both excellences: and in none perhaps are they -wholly severed. Least of all do we expect to find both wholly present -or wholly absent, in one who has in a sense fallen into anthropology -by an accident; and created one science, while he pursued another art. -In the Greek compiler who made this ‘the plan of his researches, to -procure that human acts should not be obliterated by time, and that -great deeds, wrought some by the Greeks, some by men of other speech, -should not come to lose their fame’, we cannot but see a man who -_meant_--with good or ill success--to be in the best sense ‘a mine of -information’. But it is the same Herodotus who put it before him in his -title-page ‘to discover, besides, the reason why they fought with one -another’; and that is why we hail him Father of Anthropology, no less -than the Father of History. - -Either Herodotus knew himself to be hewing out a new avenue of -knowledge, a new vista across the world; or he knew himself to be -speaking to an audience of men who themselves were ἀνθρωπολόγοι. That -is the alternative, for those who are moved to deny his originality. If -Herodotus was not in advance of his age, then his age was abreast of -Herodotus. It becomes, therefore, our first duty to ask what evidence -we possess as to the phase in which the fifth century held in mind the -problems which for us are anthropological. Now apart from the -Tragedians and Pindar, Herodotus, as we know to our discomfiture, is -the only pre-Socratic _thinker_ whose works have been preserved in -bulk: and even his, as we are well assured, are preserved only in -_bulk_, not in their entirety. So even the sceptic is driven back upon -the alternative, either of arguing from silence and _lacunae_, or of -disproving the originality of Herodotus from his very proficiency in -the subject. - -But what can we learn of the state of anthropological knowledge in the -days before Herodotus wrote? - -The task of the anthropologist is, in its essence, to find an answer to -these principal questions:--What is Man? What kinds of Men are there? -and how and by what agencies are they formed, and distributed over the -lands, as we find them? How is human life propagated under parental -sanction, maintained by social institutions, and made tolerable by -useful arts? And what part, if any, do either ἀνάγκη or λόγος or τύχη -play in defining these processes, and the general career of Mankind as -an animal species? - -Problems such as these were bound to present themselves sooner or -later to so reasonable a people as the Greeks. There is no doubt that -they were already so familiar, in the fourth century, as to be almost -obsolete _as problems_. Otherwise we should find more importance -attached to them in the writings of Plato and Aristotle. The question -before us now is rather, how early did they present themselves; what -methods were applied to deal with them; and how far had Greek thought -gone towards a solution, when Socrates stepped down from his -Cloud-basket, and substituted psychology as the proper study of Mankind? - -To those who are familiar with the early phases of Greek physical -inquiry, it is needless to repeat in detail how closely this movement -was bound up, in its origin, with that great exploratory movement which -littered the shores of the Mediterranean, from Tarsus to Tartessus, -and from the Tanais to the Nile, with Greek factories and settlements, -and brought all climates, lands, and varieties of men within the -scope of one encyclopaedic vision; how the compilers of ‘Circuits -of the World’ had surveyed all shores of ‘their own Sea’; how the -specialists had treated ‘Air, Water, and Places’ (if I may antedate -the later catch-title) in accordance with the principles of their -respective sciences; and how, on the other limit of knowledge, Milesian -chronologers and astronomers--the latter with no small glimpses into -the storehouse of Babylonian observation--had begun to make just -such maps of all time human and geological as Milesian cartographers -were making of ‘all the sea and all the rivers’. Can we doubt that, -in a movement of national inquiry, of this intensity and scope, the -question was raised of the origin, the distribution, and the modes of -subsistence of Man? - -Direct evidence of the existence of an Ionian anthropology has evaded -us for the most part. Yet, earlier still, we have the proof that -something of the kind was stirring. Hesiod presents us already with -a standard scheme of archaeology in which Ages of Gold, Silver, and -Bronze succeed each other, classified by their respective artefacts, -and succeeded, first by an Age of Heroes--an anomaly, partly of Homeric -authority, partly genuine tradition of the Sea Raids and the Minoan -_débâcle_--and then by an Age of Iron. More than this, the observation -that primitive Man was a forest-dweller, who grew no corn, and -subsisted on acorns and beech mast, presumes observation, and inference -besides, which were perhaps obvious enough among men of the Balkan -fringe, ancient and modern; but at the same time betrays a reasonable -interest, and an eye for essentials, which are far beyond the average -of archaic or barbarian speculation as to human origins. - -Some fragments indeed of this pre-Socratic anthropology have come -down to us directly; and, wherever they have done so, they show the -same curious combination of folk-lore with mature insight, as do the -views about non-human nature which are assigned to the same school. -The belief, for example,[65] that human beings originated not by animal -procreation, but by the operation of trees and rocks on women passing -by, hardly differs in kind from the beliefs imputed to the Arunta; and -the Hesiodic belief[66] that the men of Aegina were descended from ants, -or men in general from stones dropped by Deucalion and Pyrrha,[67] to -totemic beliefs or survivals. But the views ascribed to Anaximander, -and later to Archelaus, both of Miletus, show something very far in -advance of mere folk-lore. The lower animals were commonly believed to -have been produced by spontaneous generation, the effect of the sun’s -heat on moist earth, slime, or sea water. Anaximander added the -descriptive generalization,[68] based on observations on the shores of -the sea about Miletus and the Maeander silt, that these lower forms -began their cycle of existence ‘encysted in prickly integuments, and -then at maturity came out upon drier ground and shed their shells; -but still went on living for a short while’. The older belief, as we -have seen, was that men too originated in this way, either directly or -from some invertebrate form, like the ants of Aegina. But Anaximander -pointed out an obvious difficulty, and supplied also a solution of it. -‘Man,’ he said,[69] ‘was produced in the first instance from animals of -a different sort’; and this he argued ‘from the fact that the other -animals soon get their food for themselves, and Man alone needs a long -period of nursing: for which very reason, a creature of this sort could -not possibly have survived’. Here we must note first that a special -creation of human beings ready made and mature, as Hebrew thinkers -conjectured, and Greek poets had devised in the case of Pandora, was -unthinkable to an Ionian naturalist, and merely does not come into -question; secondly, that a special creation of human beings in infancy -is equally ruled out by the fact of the long helplessness of the human -infant; thirdly, that the inevitable alternative is accepted without a -hint of hesitation, namely, that Mankind must have developed from some -other kind of animal, which, though not human, could and did fend for -its young during such an infancy as Man’s. Only unacquaintance with the -great apes of the tropical world, and very imperfect acquaintance even -with imported monkeys, can have prevented Anaximander from assigning -to Man his proper place in an evolutionary Order of _Primates_. The -other half of our knowledge of Anaximander’s anthropology is even more -instructive. ‘It is clear,’ he says,[70] ‘that men were first produced -within fishes, and nourished like the “mud fish”--τραφέντας ὤσπερ -οἱ πηλαῖοι; and, when they were competent to fend for themselves, -were thereupon cast on shore (or perhaps “hatched out”) and took to -the land.’ Our knowledge of the πηλαῖοι is limited; but the parallel -passage throws some light on Anaximander’s theory. ‘The animals came -into existence by a process of evaporation by the sun; but man came -into existence in the likeness of another animal, namely, a fish, to -begin with.’ Here the theory is, clearly, that there was a stage in -the evolution of Man when he ceased to conform to the type even of the -highest of marine animals; and it was in the guise of some kind of -fish that he took to the land. It is not so clear whether we have here -merely the conjecture that at some stage marine vertebrates took the -crucial step and invaded the dry land; or whether, also, the similitude -of the ‘mud-fish’ is used to report observations which are familiar -enough to embryologists now, and in the fifth century were no less -familiar to Hippocrates.[71] In any case the views in points of detail -which are reported as characteristic of Anaximander presuppose an -almost Darwinian outlook on the animal kingdom, and an understanding -of comparative anatomy, which hardly becomes possible again before the -Renaissance. - -No less striking is the testimony of the fragment of Archelaus,[72] one -of the immediate teachers of Socrates, to the same evolutionary view. -‘Concerning animals he said that when the earth became warm in the -beginning in its lower part, where the hot and the cold were mixed, -there came to light the rest of the animals, of many dissimilar kinds, -but all with the same mode of life, maintained of the slime; and they -were short-lived. But, afterwards, interbreeding occurred among these, -and men were separated off from the rest, and they constituted leaders -and customs and arts and cities and so forth. And, he says, reason -is implanted in all animals alike; for each uses it according to his -bodily frame, one more tardily, another more promptly.’ Here again -we have the biological theory of evolution in a most explicit form, -with the same distinction as in Anaximander between the short-lived, -infusorian, almost amorphous fauna of sun-warmed water or slime, and -the higher orders of thinking vertebrates, among whom Man stands merely -as an exceptionally rational species. - -After this, it is almost needless to note that the physical -anthropology of the Greeks was quite unimpeded by those literary -misconceptions which so long retarded the study of Man in the modern -world. Hecataeus, indeed, had at one time been misled by the shortness -of Greek pedigrees; but his Egyptian researches gave him in good time -the larger perspective,[73] as even his critic Herodotus admits. And -the first reporter of the fact that Egypt is the ‘gift of the Nile’ -can hardly have failed to see the bearing of this piece of geology -upon the question of the antiquity of Man. Herodotus, at all events, -has no illusions.[74] Achelous and other rivers are there to show that -the Nile is no freak of nature; time future can be postulated to the -extent of twenty thousand years; and time past may be measured on the -same scale, for the perfecting of the Nile’s gift, not to mention the -further periods required for the deposit of the shells in the Pyramid -limestone.[75] More explicitly still, he is prepared to allow indefinite -time for the development and dissemination of human varieties. _How_ -the Danubian Sigynnae came to be colonists of the Medes, he is not -prepared to say; but the thing itself is not in his view impossible. -γένοιτο δ’ ἂν πᾶν ἐν τῷ μακρῷ χρόνῳ.[76] - -It is at this point in our story that we must look at the evidence of -Aeschylus. Small as is that portion of his works which has come down to -us, it is of high value, both as a record of current knowledge, and as -an indication of the contemporary phases of theory. Already we have the -elements of the later threefold division of the anthropological horizon -corresponding essentially with the tri-continental scheme of the -geographers, with which we know from a fragment of _Prometheus Solutus_ -that Aeschylus was acquainted at a stage of its development, which the -quotation fixes for us precisely.[77] Ethnologically, the ἐσχατιαί are -as follows:--Northwards, are found the Hyperboreans.[78] Eastwards, -lie the Indians; they are camel-riding nomads, and live next to the -Aethiopians.[79] Southward come the Aethiopians proper,[80] with Egypt, -the gift of the Nile,[81] and Libya. The black skin of the Aethiopians -is sun-tanned.[82] Aethiopia embraces everything from the φοινικόπεδον -ἐρυθρᾶς ἲερὸν χεῦμα θαλάσσης to the χαλκοκέραυνον παρ’ Ὠκεανῷ λίμναν -παντοτρόφον Αἰθιόπων where the Sun rests his horses;[83] that is, -from the southern margin of Asia (where the Indians live) to the far -South-West. In front of the Aethiopians lie the Libyans; in front of -the Indians the Empire of Persia (for there are no Indians in the -_Persae_, and Bactria is the remotest province); in front of the -Hyperboreans, the Scythians, the Abioi of Homer, and the Arimaspi; all -nomad pastoral peoples. - -At the margin of ethnological Man, sometimes merely unisexual, -sometimes misanthrope, stand the Amazons: in the _Supplices_ they -seem to stand for the North,[84] and they lie beyond Caucasus in -the _Prometheus_;[85] beyond that margin, there are the one-eyed, -breast-eyed, and dog-headed tribes of Hesiod and of common report. - -Hesiodic too, in its main outlines, is the sketch of primitive Man in -the _Prometheus_, with its hint of spontaneous generation[86] and its -fourfold scheme of useful metals. - -But for Aeschylus the tribes of men are sundered rather by culture than -by race. The two women in Atossa’s dream are like sisters in form and -figure; it is by their dress that she knows one of them to be Persian, -the other Greek.[87] So, too, the king in the _Supplices_[88] knows the -Danaid chorus for foreign women by their dress. They might be Amazons, -for there are no men with them; but no! they carry no bows.[89] Stay! -they _do_ carry κλάδοι: that surely is Greek.[90] μόνον τὁδ’ Ὲλλὰς χθὼν -συνοίσεται στόχῳ. Only in the second place comes language, to decide in -a case where dress and accessories are indecisive;[91] and only when the -Danaids assure him that they are really Argive, and of his own kin, are -new doubts raised by their build and complexion,[92] and he questions -again whether they are Libyans (with the Nile and the Κύπριος χαρακτήρ -thrown in, for the aesthetic types of Egyptian and Graeco-Assyrian -art), or Indians, or Amazons; outlanders, that is, of the South, the -East, or the North, as we have seen. - -These preliminary notes have been designed to give such retrospect over -the course of Greek anthropological theory as our fragmentary sources -allow: but they have been enough, I hope, to show where matters stood -in the lifetime of Herodotus, and also to some degree what the burning -questions--or some of them--were. Now we come to Herodotus himself, to -take the elements of his anthropology in similar order, and put them -into their respective places. - -First then, Herodotus gives us for the first time a reasoned scheme -of ethnological criteria; and it marks at once an advance on that of -Aeschylus, and an important modification of it. In the famous passage -where the Athenians reject the proposals of Alexander of Macedon, -and against immense inducements refuse to desert the Greek cause, -they state as their inducement the fourfold bond which holds a nation -together. ‘Greece,’ they reply,[93] ‘is of one blood; and of one speech; -and has dwelling-places of gods in common, and sacrifices to them; and -habits of similar customs’: and that is why the Athenians cannot betray -their nation. Common descent, common language, common religion, and -common culture: these are the four things which make a nation one; and, -conversely, the things which, if unconformable, hold nations apart. To -this analysis, modern ethnology has little or nothing to add. It might -be said, as Professor Flinders Petrie has suggested,[94] that identity -of religious beliefs is in the last resort only a peculiarly refined -test of conformity of behaviour between man and man; and that community -of culture, beyond dumb interchange of artefacts, is inconceivable -without community of speech. But the mode of propagation, both of -language and of religious observance, differs so greatly in kind -from that of the transmission of material culture, that the forcible -reduction of the four criteria of Herodotus to the two major criteria -of Physique and Culture fails us in practice almost as soon as it -is made. So far as Herodotus presents us with an ordered scheme of -anthropological thought--with a science of anthropology, in fact--he is -little, if at all, behind the best thought of our own day. - -It is not, I think, pressing his language too far, if we regard him as -stating these four criteria in what he regarded as the order of their -relative importance. First, for scientific as for political purposes, -comes community of descent; next, community of language; then community -of religion; and general community of observance, in daily life, only -at the end of all. Contrast with this the method of inquiry in the -_Supplices_, where, as we saw, dress and equipment come first, then -religious observance, then language; and physique is postponed to all -three. That this is not accidental will be seen, I think, from an -example of the Herodotean anthropology when applied, so to speak, ‘in -the field,’ to the description of the northern Argippaei where each -successive criterion is introduced by δὲ which is adversative to the -preceding clause.[95] Here the physical anthropology is given first; -then the language, which distinguishes these Argippaei from _all_ other -men, and so forms a cross division athwart the criterion of physique; -then, _though_ they have a language of their own, yet, till they speak -to you, you would not think it, for their dress is Scythian; but after -all, Scythians they cannot be, because no Scythian lives on tree-fruit. -He is a pastoral nomad, or at best an ἀροτὴρ ἐπὶ πρήσι. Here ἤθεα -ὁμότροπα hold the last and lowest place; and the cause of this is -plain: for their witness agrees not together. - -There is a reason for this new emphasis on community of blood and of -language in the anthropology of Herodotus. If the Persian War had shown -nothing else, it had shown the superior efficiency of an army which was -mutually intelligible, over one which might have met, not in Kritalla, -but in Shinar; and even more forcibly it had impressed the belief, -that what mattered was not equipment, nor language, but breed. It was -the Persians who could survey and mark a sea channel like a modern -Admiralty,[96] and amazed their captive by those unfamiliar drugs and -‘shield-straps made of silky linen’ which we call surgical bandages;[97] -but it was their prisoner Pytheus who amazed them by the physique and -the training which brought him through, when he was literally ‘mangled -to butcher’s meat’. - -And there is another reason for this emphasis. Right in sight of -Halicarnassus, and hardly two hours’ sail, lies the town of Cos, and -in its _agora_ to-day stands the great plane-tree of Hippocrates; and -during the lifetime of Herodotus there was growing up there that latest -and fairest flower of pre-Socratic knowledge, the Coan medical school, -with an anatomy, a physiology, and an anthropology of its own, superior -by far to anything which succeeded it until the seventeenth century. - -In what relation the professional science of Hippocrates stood to -the penumbral knowledge of Herodotus, and also to the learning and -speculations of their predecessors, may be illustrated from their -respective treatment of the phenomenon of beardlessness in Man. - -All Mediterranean peoples, and all sedentary peoples of the European -mainland, agree in this, that their adult males have copious hair upon -the face. Herodotus and his contemporaries had no means of foreseeing -that this was really the exception rather than the rule among human -varieties; that neither the yellow- nor the black-skinned races have -this appendage except in a rudimentary degree, and in circumstances -which suggest contamination more or less direct with the white men -of the north-western quadrant of the Old World. Only the fact that -the Australians are hairier in face and person even than the whites -saves us from the temptation to adopt into anthropology the popular -superstition that the long beard is correlated with the superior brain. -But for Herodotus and the Greek world, beards on men were the rule, and -beardlessness an abnormality to be explained. - -Now from Homeric times, and before, the Nearer East had been startled -by the raids of a warrior people governed and defended by beardless -creatures of wondrous horsemanship and archery, their bows in -particular such as no mere man could use; inspired, moreover, with a -fury like the fury of a woman, against everything that showed a beard. -Beyond the Caucasus they ate their prisoners; in Tauris they killed -all men, at the bidding of beardless leaders;[98] one band of them -penetrated into free Scythia, and were actually taken for women; among -their Sarmatian descendants men and women hunted and fought side by -side. But they were not confined to the trans-Euxine grassland. In Asia -Minor, when King Priam was a lad, they had occupied the plateau, and -were resisting the Thraco-Phrygian invasion. Further to the South-East, -another body of them had harried all Assyria in the seventh century, -and at Askalon their beardless descendants survived. τοῖσι τούτων -αἰεὶ ἐκγόνοισι ἐνέσκηψε ὁ θεὸς vήλεαν vοῦσον. The same defect was -observable in one element in the male population of Scythia in the -fifth century.[99] Here we detect three stages of discovery. First, -the beardless people are assumed to be women. Next it is discovered, -both in Scythia and in Palestine, that though beardless (and indeed -otherwise hairless) they are really men. Thirdly, the collateral -discovery that _some_ mounted archers were actually women, as in -Sarmatia, is held to reaffirm the legends of Amazons; in spite of -the fact that their Sarmatian descendants were known to belong to a -bisexual society, and talked a dialect of Scythian. Thus Herodotus -and his predecessors were put, after all, on a wrong track, in their -inquiry why some Scythians are beardless, and some are not. The test -case is at Askalon; where the Scythians who remained were admittedly -beardless; and the guess was loosely accepted, that all the bearded -ones had escaped the curse and gone away. The outstanding fact is the -presence of similar ἀνδρόγυνοι in Scythia itself; and at this point, -candid as ever, Herodotus throws the outstanding fact into his reader’s -lap, and passes on to other things. - -At this point we turn to Hippocrates. Here we are at once in the full -current of Ionic rationalism. The theological explanation of the -phenomena is rejected at the outset. ‘For my own part, I think these -ailments are from God, and all the other ailments too; and no one of -them more divine than another, or more human either, but all alike from -God. Each of such things has a process of growth, and nothing comes -into being without a process of growth.’[100] - -The ground thus cleared, Hippocrates notes four points. In the first -place beardlessness, and its reputed concomitants, were limited to -Scythians of wealth, which he explains to be synonymous with hereditary -rank; or at least were most common among these. Hippocrates, it is -true, puts this down to their equestrian habit, not to a difference -of race. Yet it is clear, from Herodotus’ account, that the Scythian -aristocracy were the result of a quite recent irruption of a purely -nomad people from beyond the Tanais, which had displaced, though not -wholly, the former population of Scythia. Secondly, he observes that -the Scythians in general differ wholly in physique from the rest of the -peoples of Europe; but he does not on that ground raise the question of -an immigrant origin. The reason for this omission, however, is clear -from his third point, that the abnormality in question is such as might -be predicted from a consideration of the climate and mode of life of -any human inhabitants of Scythia. After this, his fourth point brings -him right up to the brink of discovery, though it is not pressed to its -logical conclusion by further research; for he is clear both that the -beardlessness could exist without further disabilities, and also that, -in addition to climate and customs conducive to this bodily habit, the -Scythians were naturally inclined to be beardless. But the first of -these facts he ascribes, not without professional excuse, to successful -preventive treatment; and the latter was clearly regarded by him as -the incipient effect of climate and the like upon persons who were -congenitally normal. It is curious, meanwhile, that he does not make -use of the crucial instance of the beardless Scythians at Askalon, to -test his conclusion that beardlessness and the like are the effect -of climate; for the climate of Askalon differs from that of Scythia -in almost every important particular. It is permissible, however, -to suggest that we have here one of the numerous instances in which -important statements are recorded by Herodotus, which, whether true or -false in themselves, failed for some reason to become assimilated by -the learned world of the fourth century. - -Herodotus, however, was still anything but satisfied as to the -paramount value of the physical criterion of kinship. In the majority -of cases it proved either too much or too little. A good instance is -his comparison of the Colchians with the Egyptians. Here he bases his -argument for their affinity on their common physical characters, dark -skin and woolly hair. But this proves too much: there are other peoples -with dark skin and woolly hair, who are certainly _not_ of Egyptian -origin. On the other hand it proves too little; for what he proposes -to establish here is not a general community of origin, but direct -Egyptian colonization within historic times. For this proof, he prefers -to rely on the evidence of a ceremonial custom which he regards as -typically African; for it is both Egyptian and Aethiopian; and, as it -happens to be a custom involving mutilation of the person, it belongs, -as we shall see presently, to a class of observances which were -regarded by Greek anthropology as competent to effect real changes of -physique in course of time. The merely external evidence of a common -industry, such as the linen-weaving which he adduces here, clearly -stands for Herodotus on a lower plane, along with their general -similarity of culture and language. - -Clearly Herodotus was not quite satisfied as to the value of racial -types in anthropology. And there were several reasons for this. On -the one hand, the Greeks themselves held family tradition to be good -evidence of common descent; and as a matter of fact, the professional -genealogist had been beforehand with the anthropologist at nearly all -points within the Greek-speaking world. Traditions of common descent, -in fact, were too deeply fixed already in popular belief, and involved -too many practical questions, such as the rights to real property, or -to political privilege, to be treated as anything but valid evidence -of kinship. Consequently a people’s own account of their origin, or -whatever story was accepted as such, was held to be evidence of a high -order. Such price did Greek science pay for the actual solidarity of -Greek phylic institutions. - -For example, the Sigynnae of the Middle Danube ‘say that they are a -colony of Medes. How they have come to be a colony of Medes, I for my -part cannot say for certain: yet anything might happen if you give it -long enough’.[101] Herodotus is prepared, that is, to allow infinite -time to accomplish an almost impossible migration, rather than give -up what he accepts as a people’s own account of their origin. But -obviously this principle of ethnography was likely to lead to great -difficulties. The Sigynnae, it is true, wore ‘Median dress’, presumably -trousers of some kind, and perhaps a shaped cap with ear-guards, no -less suitable to a Danubian than to a Median winter. But what of their -physique? In this instance Herodotus gives no details; but clearly -if conflict were to occur between the evidence for descent and for -physique--if, that is, a people claimed descent from another people of -a different physical type--it might be the difference of physique which -would stand in need of explanation. - -There was another reason, besides, why traditions of common descent -should seem to deserve tender treatment, even when geographical -probability was against them. The whole Eastern Mediterranean was -still but imperfectly recovering itself after one of those periods -of prolonged and intense ethnic stress to which it is exposed by the -permeability of its northern frontier. From Thrace to Crete there -were fragmentary patches of Pelasgians; Phrygians from Macedon to -Peloponnese, far up the Adriatic, and in Western Sicily; Thracians in -Naxos and Attica; and Lydians at Askalon. The Ionian merchant, like the -Venetian of a later time, found everywhere before him the tracks of the -crusading Achaean. The Dorian Spartan in Cyprus, at Soli and Kerynia, -found Kurion already the colony of an earlier Argos; at Tarentum he -merely filled a vacant niche in an Achaean, almost a Homeric Italy. If -things like these could happen within four or five hundred years, -γένοιτο δ’ ἂν πᾶν ἐν τῷ μακρῷ χρόνῷ. Outside the Greek world it was -the same. Where Sesostris had been, the Scythian and Kimmerian had -followed, leaving their trail at Sinope and Askalon, as he in Colchis. -Nebuchadnezzar had set the Jews by the waters of Babylon. Darius was -but following the rule when he moved Paeonians to Asia Minor, and -transplanted Eretrians to Ardericca. - -There was another reason also why racial type should be held liable -to easy change. The Greeks themselves, and most of their neighbours, -were mongrel peoples, for reasons which we have just seen; and there -is no doubt that climate and mode of life were actually resulting in -ruthless and rapid elimination of intrusive types, wherever these -were intolerant of Mediterranean conditions. Now in most of the -states of Ionia the blood of the citizens was mixed beyond hope of -disentanglement, even by family tradition; for family tradition, as -Professor Murray has shown us,[102] was for the most part shattered in -the migrations. Yet the external conditions were the same for all; and -men saw their blonder kinsmen and townsmen fade and cease out of the -land, without fully realizing that what needed explanation was not -their failure to survive, but their presence in those latitudes at -all. The result, for ethnology, was to encourage a belief that mankind -in itself was a pure-bred species, one and indivisible like any other -natural kind; and that the marked variations between white and black, -straight-haired and woolly-haired peoples, were exclusively the result -of climatic, if not human, selection. - -Yet another consideration drove men’s thoughts inevitably in the same -connexion. One of the best inheritances of Greece from the Minoan -world was an elaborate apparatus of cultivated plants and animals: our -evidence from dogs, and olive-kernels, begins, I think, to justify this -view.[103] And in so minutely subdivided a region, special breeds of -local origin were bound to result at an early phase of industry; and -to be compared and discussed in the markets and on the quays. Every -one knew, in fact, that domesticated animals and plants, under human -direction, were tolerant of almost infinite and very rapid alteration: -and Man himself is the most highly domesticated of all. It is no wonder -then that in the fourth century Socrates is represented as arguing -habitually as if Man were a domesticated animal, whose breed could be -improved at will, and in any direction, physical or psychological. For -even psychological breeding had long been reduced to an art, both with -horses and with dogs. - -Demonstrable migrations of men, therefore, and demonstrable mutations -both of men and of animals, offered evidence of a kind which it was -difficult to overlook, that natural characters were variable, and -also that acquired ones could become hereditary. It was, in fact, not -because the Greeks knew so little, but because on certain crucial -points they already knew so much, that they formed the views they did -as to the instability of human varieties. How far these views were -pressed to their conclusions will be seen best, I think, from a glance -at the teaching of Hippocrates, which we may safely take to be near the -highwater-mark of fifth-century thought on immediately pre-Socratic -lines. - -A good example of the doctrine of Hippocrates is contained in his -anthropology of the Phasis valley, a region which falls sufficiently -within the same limits as the Colchis of Herodotus to be worth -comparing with his description of the Colchians. Indeed there is some -reason to believe that, for reasons both of geographical theory and of -popular ideas of utility, this corner of Hither Asia was attracting -a good deal of learned attention from the physicists of Greece. This -is what Hippocrates[104] has to say about the Phasis and its people. -‘That country is marshy and warm and well watered and thickly clothed -with vegetation, and there is heavy and violent rainfall there at all -seasons, and the habitat of its men is in the marshes, and their houses -are of wood and rushes ingeniously erected in the water, and they do -but little walking to and from town and market, but they sail to and -fro in dug-out canoes. For there are numerous artificial canals. The -waters they drink are warm and stagnant and putrefied by the sun, and -replenished by the rains. The Phasis itself too is the most stagnant -of all rivers, and of the gentlest current. And the fruits which grow -there are all unwholesome, for they are effeminated [he is thinking -of the abundance of fleshy pulpy fruit, like the stone fruits--plums, -apricots, and nectarines--which were characteristic of this region in -antiquity] and flabby by reason of the abundance of water. And that is -why they do not ripen fully. And much mist envelops the country as a -result of the water. For just these reasons the Phasians have their -bodily forms different from those of all other men. For in stature they -are tall, in breadth they are excessively broad, and no joint or vein -is to be seen upon them. Their complexion is yellow as if they had -the jaundice. Their voice is the deepest of all men’s, because their -atmosphere is not clear but foggy and moist. And for bodily exertion -they are naturally somewhat disinclined.’ - -Here we see an unqualified doctrine of the plasticity of human nature, -physical and mental, under the influence of climate and geographical -environment, such as his description of the Scythians has led us to -suspect already. An adjacent passage adds the further theoretical -point, that even acquired variations of wholly artificial character -may become hereditary in time. The case is that of the Macrocephali, -whose haunts unfortunately are not specified.[105] ‘In the beginning -it was their custom which was chiefly responsible for the length of -their head, but now, their mode of growth too reinforces their custom. -For they regard as best bred those who have the longest head.’ Then -he describes how the heads are remodelled in infancy by massage and -bandaging; and proceeds: ‘At the beginning the practice itself had the -result that their mode of growth was of this kind. But as time went on, -it came to be inbred so that their law was no longer compulsory:’ ἐν -φύσει ἐγένετο, ὤστε τὸν νόμον μηκέτι ἀναγκάζειν. He then explains that -just as baldness and grey eyes and physical deformities are hereditary -(for he makes no distinction between natural and acquired varieties), -‘now similarly they do not grow at all as they did before: for the -practice has no longer any force, through the people’s own neglect of -it.’ - -The bearing of this passage, and the doctrine which it expounds, on -Herodotus’ account of the Colchi, will be obvious at once. Clearly, if -the proportions of the head can be affected by artificial pressure, -reinforced by social selection of the most successfully deformed--that -is to say, of the individuals with the softest skulls; and if, as -Hippocrates clearly thought, the colour of the eyes, and presence or -absence of hair, were characters of the same order of transmissibility; -and if, further, as in the case of the Phasians, skin-colour and bodily -proportions resulted from climate and occupation; then clearly it -mattered comparatively little to Herodotus whether the Colchians were -woolly-haired or not. Woolly hair, like baldness, could be inherited -indeed; but it could also be superinduced, like macrocephaly, by -assiduous curling, or, as every barber knows, by the subtler influence -of atmospheric moisture. It is consequently not only because, as -suggested above, there were other woolly-haired people, besides the -Egyptians and Colchians who were in question, that Herodotus has -recourse to other evidence than that of physique to prove their -identity: it is because, for fifth-century anthropology, the evidence -of physique itself did not justify conclusions of appreciably higher -validity than those which resulted from the comparison of industries or -customs. - -It will be seen from all this that in questions relating to the -evolution of Man, Herodotus exhibits--and shares with the whole thought -of his time--precisely the opposite weakness to that of the pioneers -of modern anthropology. His mistakes arise, not because he is unable -to allow time enough for evolutionary changes, but because he tries to -crowd too great an amplitude of change into the liberal allowance of -time which he is prepared to grant. Ten thousand years, or even twenty -thousand, would be a short allowance, in modern geology, for even so -active a river as the Nile to fill up the whole Red Sea; but it is more -than double the whole length allotted to ‘geological time’ within the -memory of men still living. - -It will also be clear how deep was the impression created on the Greek -mind by the minor changes of the seasons and of history. The formula of -Heracleitus, πάντα ῥεῖ καὶ οὐδὲν μένει, had indeed its application to -metaphysic; but its origin was in physical science, as a generalization -from experience. It had its negative interest as an implement of -sceptical destruction. But it had also a high positive value, for it -formulated the present as transitional from the past to the future; -it emphasized the kinetic and physiological aspect of nature and of -science, which has ever been of so far higher value, in research, as in -life, than the static and morphological; it substituted an analysis of -processes for classification of the qualities of things. - -Now it is to this phase of scientific theory that we must assign the -first intrusion into scientific terminology of the twin words φύσις and -νόμος; in their primitive sense they denote nothing else than precisely -such natural processes in themselves, on the one hand, and man’s -formulation of such processes, on the other. - -It is the more important to keep in mind this fundamental conception -of Greek physical anthropology when we go on to consider either the -treatment of the evidence of language and culture, which we find in -Herodotus, or the applications of physical classification to the -purposes of logic and metaphysic. To take the latter first: a doctrine -of the real existence of natural kinds, corresponding each, as -Hippocrates would put it, to a process of growth peculiar to itself, -was clearly easier to understand, if not to discover and formulate, -when the men who were to discuss it were already brought up to regard -the animal world, for example, as consisting of a comparatively small -number of fundamental types, and the infinite variety of individual -and regional forms as the effect of external forces upon them. Each -actual example of horse or dog, for example, was to be regarded on the -one hand as the embodiment of a true equine or canine nature, which -reason might hope to detect and isolate; but on the other, it lay like -the god Glaucus, encrusted with accidental qualities, the effects of -its exposure to a particular environment. Seen in the light of their -pre-Socratic history, as elements in the terminology of a great school -of naturalists, the catch-words φύσις, γένος, εἶδος, and συμβεβηκὸς -gain something, I think, in significance. In particular, it becomes -clearer why the word εἶδος, which continued to be used among the -naturalists for the specific outcome of συμβεβηκότα upon a member or -members of a γένος, came among the philosophers to supersede the word -γἑνος in proportion as the centre of reflective interest shifted from -the objective exponent of a φύσις to the subjective standpoint of the -philosophic observer. - -For Herodotus, meanwhile, language and culture can change under stress -of circumstances in just the same way as physique; and therefrom -follows the possibility of the transmission of culture. Whether any -particular custom was to be regarded as innate in the φύσις of those -who practised it, or as their response to the stresses of their -present environment, or as the result, whether conformable to the -environment or not, of intercourse with another variety of Man, was a -question to be settled on the merits of each case. It was, in fact, -partly the laxness of interest in such matters which resulted from the -prevalent theory, and only partly the admitted incompleteness of the -observations, that kept ethnographical speculation in so backward a -state as we find it in Herodotus’ time. Until the belief in stronger -specific characters could be supplemented by some doctrine of cultural -momentum, the conception of progress in civilization was hardly -attainable at all. This is where the treatment of Hellenic civilization -by Herodotus stands in so marked a contrast with his treatment of the -civilizations of Egypt and Outland. Egyptian civilization, like Egypt -itself, is the gift of the Nile; the φύσις of an Indian attains its -τέλος when he has ridden his camels and rescued his gold; the men -are black, or tall, or longlived as the effect of natural causes; -and as long as these causes persist, so long will there be Indians -or Aethiopians with those qualities. Only in Greece is there mastery -of man over nature, and that not because nature is less strong, but -because Greek man is strong enough to dominate it. - -This is how it comes about that barriers of language and of culture, no -less than barriers of descent, are powerless in face of a well-defined -γένος with a potent φύσις of its own. Such a γἑνος can add to the -number of individuals which compose it. Pelasgians and Lelegians can -_become_ Hellenes. For Herodotus, as I have explained more in detail -elsewhere, the process of conversion of barbarians to the Hellenic -φύσις is not clear: the verbs which he employs, μετέβαλον, μετέμαθον, -are intransitive; the general impression which is conveyed is of a -kind of spontaneous generation: and the same language is used when τὸ -Ἐλληνικόν is described as ἀποσχισθὲν ἀπὸ τοῦ βαρβἀρου, in the earliest -phase of all. For Thucydides, on the other hand--as was natural to -an Athenian who had seen Atticism triumphant in Hellas--Hellenism is -acquired by contact with, and imitation of, the φύσις of a genuine -Hellene. Of course this explanation of Pelasgian conversion only pushes -the problem itself one stage further back; but it marks a distinct -advance in analysis beyond the point reached by Herodotus; and it -is an advance in precisely the opposite direction to that in which -naturalists like Hippocrates were being led through their greater -insistence on the external factors, which were the main subject of -their study. Thucydides in fact stands already on the Socratic side of -the line. The explanation of the transmissibility of culture is to be -sought for him not in physiology, but in psychology--not in spontaneous -or coercive adjustment to inexorable nature, but in intercourse with -enlightened minds. - -Among the many different classes of information which Herodotus -inclines to give about foreign peoples, two kinds of data are more -insistently recorded than the others. There are the marriage customs, -and the principal source of food. These will be admitted to be obvious -points to note; but there was a special motive in the fifth century -for collecting each of them; and the history of thought in the century -which followed allows us to trace this motive forward into a maturer -context. - -The problem of the status of the sexes in society was not a new one -in fourth-century Greece. As far back, indeed, as we can trace social -institutions directly at all, society in Greece had been constituted on -patriarchal lines. But patriarchal institutions had far less undisputed -acceptance in the Greek world than they had for example in Italy. -It was not merely that Attic rules of inheritance gave a definite, -though at all times secondary, status to the mother’s kindred; or -that in Sparta, Thebes, and some other states, the women enjoyed in -many respects a social equality with the men which has been explained -in more ways than one. An Ionian Greek had only to travel down his -own coast as far as Lycia to find men reckoning descent through the -mother, or to travel back in imagination to the legendary origins of -his own people, to find that their pedigrees went often up, not to a -god, but to a woman. Olympian society was the same. The consort of Zeus -held a very different position from that of the wife in a patriarchal -household; and on the Asiatic shore, at least, the gods themselves were -traced back to a Mother, not to a Father, of them all. - -Hints, too, were not wanting as to the recent arrival, and un-Aegean -origin, of the patriarchal system, which had now prevailed, with its -proprietary view of women; and, no less, of the loose hold which this -set of customs had upon the popular belief and opinion. In the -opening chapters of his history, Herodotus states, and allows his -Περσέων λὁγιοι to criticize freely, what might be summarized as a -_cherchez-la-femme_ theory of the Eastern Question: and the criticism -which he records amounts essentially to the question, ‘Does the -position of women in society, as we know it, justify the attempts which -have been made to explain the great quarrel by incidents such as those -of Io, Medea, and Helen?’ Now this criticism is not merely Persian, -nor even Herodotean; the problem whether the Trojan War was really -fought about Helen was at least as old as Stesichorus. No sooner did -the wakening mind of Hellas cease merely to believe Homer, and begin to -think about him, than it struck at once upon this very paradox:--‘Homer -says, and insists throughout, that all the war was wrought for Helen’s -sake; but do we Greeks ever dream of doing anything of the kind? are -our women the least worth fighting about? If they run away with a -foreigner, do we not, as a matter of fact, say “good riddance”, and go -about our business?’ How this paradox presented itself to Stesichorus -and to other literary thinkers of early Greece, and how Herodotus has -chosen to handle their solution of it, is a thrice-told tale. All that -I am concerned to suggest, at present, is that, at every point where we -can test it, opinion in Greece was in flux as to the rightful position -of woman in civilized society. - -The rapid extension of the field of Greek knowledge of other peoples’ -customs, which resulted from the voyages and settlements of the seventh -century, no less than the severe strain which the economic evolution in -that century and the next put upon the very framework of society in -Greek states, led inevitably, as we know, to very reasonable scepticism -as to the naturalness of patriarchal institutions in themselves: and -this not only among the Physicists. We have hints of it in the Lyric, -and explicit discussion in the Drama. ‘Is a man nearer akin to his -father or to his mother?’ that is the point on which for Aeschylus the -fate of Orestes turns in the last resort. The Apollo of Aeschylus, -Λητοίδης though he be, is on the side of the angels, but his proof -belongs to a phase of observation which, while it conforms precisely to -the patriarchal jurisprudence, was obsolete already for Hippocrates. -The _Andromache_ and the _Medea_ of Euripides mark in due course the -turn of the tide, even in Drama; and, with the feminist plays of -Aristophanes, we are in full course for the _Republic_ of Plato, the -fine flower, on this side of the subject, of the conviction (which is -really pre-Socratic) that social organization, like any other, is at -bottom a matter of the adaptation of natural means to ends. - -Of this controversy Herodotus is no mere spectator. It can hardly be a -chance that every one of the strange marriage customs which he mentions -happens to be typical of a widespread type of observance; and that the -series of them taken together forms an analysis of such types which -is almost complete between the extremes of promiscuous union with -classificatory relationship on the one hand, and normal patriarchal -monogamy on the other. - -Herodotus is of course not writing a history of Human Marriage, or of -Woman’s Rights; it is only as a current topic of controversy that such -matters come into his story at all; but, when they do, I think we can -see that his contribution to them is not quite a casual one; that he -is not simply emptying an ill-filled notebook on to the margins of -his history; but that where he digresses he does so to fill a gap in -current knowledge, with materials which, if not new, are at all events -well authenticated; and that these materials have partly been elicited -by his own interest in specific problems which were burning questions -at the moment. - -The question of social organization, and provision for orderly descent, -was for Herodotus a matter of pure science. But for some of his -contemporaries it was different. Archelaus, in particular, the last, -and in some respects the most advanced, of the Physicists, has the -reputation of having applied physicist methods to politics and morals: -καὶ γὰρ περὶ νόμων πεφιλοσόφηκε καὶ καλῶν καὶ δικαίων.[106] Two points -in the account given of him by Diogenes have usually been put on one -side; that he came from Miletus and had sat at the feet of Anaxagoras, -beyond whose physics, however, he failed to advance appreciably;[107] -and that Socrates had borrowed from him much of what commonly passed -as Socratic. But the two statements go together. An Ionian Physicist, -who had passed on to ‘philosophize about customs, their goodness and -justice’, was certainly a pendent portrait to that of the Socrates of -the _Clouds_ and of the _Memorabilia_, with his earlier interest (which -his enemies never forgot) in τὰ μετέωρα, and his invincible habit of -treating Man as an animal species about which it was permissible to -argue by the analogy of other ‘rational animals’ like horses and dogs. -Indeed the predominant interest which the next generation took in the -later phases of Socrates the Moralist, have obscured, perhaps unduly, -the significance of these glimpses of his immaturer thought. - -The same Archelaus is credited--or discredited--with another saying, -characteristic of the Milesian way of looking at Mankind:--‘Justice -and injustice,’ he said, ‘exist not in nature but in custom.’ Here -again, the practice of Herodotus is instructive. Repeatedly he notes of -distant peoples either that they are the ‘justest of Mankind’, or that -they have this or that ‘custom’ which is praiseworthy or the reverse; -and, even among the highest of civilized beings, ‘Custom is King.’ - -This is not perhaps the place to enter at length on a discussion of the -Herodotean usage of νόμος, or its relation with its correlative φύσις. -But it can hardly be passed by without the remark that the varying -use of the word in Herodotus--and his uses do vary in detail--are all -included in that earlier, and characteristically Ionian sense, in which -the word is used to denote the formal expression of _what actually -happens_, among the people, and in the circumstances, which are in -question. This is of course a quite immediate, and very early sense of -the word; it connects itself directly with the primary signification -of a _pasture_ within which a flock may roam unchecked and unharmed, -but beyond which it strays at its peril or not at all. Νόμος has thus -exactly the force of the Roman conception of a _provincia_, except -that where provincia _prescribed_ the limits and the character of -appropriate acts, νόμος merely _described_ them. In so far then as νὁμος -answered originally to our word _law_, it answered exclusively to that -sense of it in which we speak of a _law of nature_, meaning thereby our -more or less accurate formulation, in a descriptive way, of the actual -course of events of the given type. - -In this sense obviously there is no contrast or antagonism conceivable -between νόμος and φύσις. Let the φύσις of an oak, for example--the -growth-process of that kind of tree--be to put forth branches, leaves, -and fruit of a specific sort: this is no less the νόμος of that oak; -the way it normally behaves. So, too, with Man. The normal, natural -behaviour of the Egyptian is to teach his son a trade, this is one of -his νόμοι, as seen and described by an observer from outside; but this -is also what he and his ancestors have done φύσει for generations, till -an Egyptian who does otherwise is hardly conceivable. We have already -seen in the case of Hippocrates the mode of procedure whereby what -began as a νόμος was conceived as modifying the φύσις by incorporation -in it. - -What was the outcome of these observations on the family structure -of savages, and of the speculations as to their ‘naturalness’ or the -reverse? The answer is given, I think, when we look into the fourth -century, and find Socrates, the last of the pre-Socratics, propounding -in the _Republic_, and justifying by chapter and verse in the _Laws_, -the unnaturalness, because the uselessness or inexpediency, of -patriarchal society as the Greeks knew it. From Athenian politics -patriarchal considerations had been eliminated in theory a century -before, by that amazing revolutionary, Cleisthenes; but socially the -father still owned and ruled his children; and children paid -divided allegiance to their father and to the state. As presented -in the _Republic_ the Socratic argument has little about it that -is anthropological; the appeal is to horses and dogs, not to -Sarmatians; but the actual institutions of the Ideal State, the annual -mating-festivals, the κομψοὶ κλῆροι by which status is allotted to each -infant after inspection by the governors, the whole classificatory -system of relationship, are one and all to be found among the curious -νόμοι which we know to have been recorded by the anthropologists of -the century before; and recorded, too, with the definite intention of -discovering what their causes were, and what were the reasons assigned -for those customs by the people who practised and understood them. - -It is against such speculations as these, of course, and in particular -against the Socratic attempt to make Amazons and Nasamonians rise up -in judgement against this generation, that Aristotle was moved to -restate in the first section of the _Politics_ the orthodox sociology -of patriarchal Greece. That in the middle of the fourth it should -have been possible for a serious person to maintain the paradox -φύσει ἀρχικὸς πατὴρ υἱῶν without instant refutation by the members -of his classroom, is a measure of the extent to which the followers -of Socrates (though, as we have seen, not Socrates himself) had -broken with the fifth-century naturalists, and perhaps even ceased to -read them. But it is a measure also of the extent to which an able -dialectician could make play with words like φύσις and νόμος, till it -almost appeared as if any one who had any νόμοι to speak of represented -a παρέκβασις from the φύσει ἄνθρωπος. No amount of _a priori_ argument -as to the superior strength, or intelligence, or sheer ‘superiority’ of -the human male, could obliterate the fact that here women ruled, there -they fought, elsewhere they did the work instead of the man, or, bar -the reflection, that it was the business of an editor of συνηγμέναι -πολιτεῖαι to collect these human institutions too, before generalizing; -and, in general, to distinguish τὸ παρὰ φύσιν from τὸ παράδοξον. - -Alongside of the problem of family organization, lay the other problem -of the means of subsistence. Some men live wholly on the fruit of a -tree; others eat corn, or milk, or monkeys, or their elderly relatives. -And here again the evidence falls into two classes. There are customs -in which the eating appears to us as a ritual act designed by those -who observed or initiated it to secure some ultimately useful end: -they frequently belong to the kind of acts which we class together -as Sympathetic Magic. There are also customs in respect of food, -which to us appear to have only an economic interest; or if they have -wider interest at all, acquire it from another consideration. Current -anthropology--French anthropology in particular--and our own economic -surroundings combine to bring home to us keenly the thought that the -way in which a people gets its daily bread, not to mention the previous -question how it is to get anything to eat at all (except, perhaps, its -own unemployables), has a direct and profound influence on its social -structure. A late stage of Greek thought on this subject is represented -by the section in the first book of the _Politics_ which classifies the -principal βίοι which are open to mankind, and hints (though the subject -is not pursued) that the Good Life will be pursued with a very different -equipment of customs and institutions according as it is pursued by -the pastoral nomad ‘farming his migratory field’, or by the miner, -or by the merchant seaman. A little earlier in thought as well as in -time comes the sketch in the _Republic_, a glimpse of the earlier -Socrates who had dabbled in geography and improved the ‘inventions’ -of Archelaus. The later Socrates, wise in his own failures, takes his -pupils hurriedly past this avenue of inquiry into the structure of -society; the disciples, for the credit of the Master’s originality, -omit all allusion to Archelaus and his work. But the Milesian who -began with Physics, and went on to show what nowadays we should call -‘the applicability of biological laws to Man’, cannot have been -without weight in the political thought of his time; and it is again -to Herodotus that we must turn for indications of the extent to which -this inquiry was already being followed in Greece in the generation of -Archelaus, and before it. - -Already in Homer imagination had been caught by the total distinctness -of the mode of life which was followed by the nomads of the North; and -a vague connexion had been felt between the purely pastoral existence -and a peculiarly orderly habit of life and behaviour. A fragment of -Choerilus, whom those who had access to his work felt to stand in some -peculiarly close relation to Herodotus, connects these two qualities -explicitly;[108] and the same thought recurs twice over in that -storehouse of anthropological learning, the _Prometheus Solutus_ of -Aeschylus.[109] In the latter passage it would be forcing the literal -sense of the words unduly, to insist that the Gabii are to be pictured -as living on wild corn, especially as Greek theory was at all other -points unanimous that corn, like the olive and the vine, came to man by -special providence as something ἡμερον φύσει. The Aeschylean picture -clearly is that of the virgin soil of the trans-Euxine grassland, -where the spring vegetation will endure comparison with any merely -Aegean cornland. - -There is enough in this single example to show that the men of the -early fifth century were already aware of the inter-dependence of -environment, economy, and institutions. For the generation of Socrates, -we have the treatise of Hippocrates already mentioned, ‘On Air, Water, -and Places’; of which the whole burden is, as we have seen, that not -only men’s social organization, but their very physique, is the result -of ‘acquired variations’ initiated by the climate and economic régime. - -I hinted, a little earlier, that there is another reason why Herodotus -should pay close attention to the peculiar food of strange peoples. -That different kinds of food-quest should lead to different manners -and institutions was probably, even in the fifth century, a less -familiar conception than that the personal qualities of the individual -depended directly on the food which he ate. This is of course a matter -of elementary knowledge to most savages; it is an explicit principle -of the medical doctrine of Hippocrates; it has had the profoundest -influence on the vocabulary and ritual of great religions, and it -has by no means disappeared from the current thought of mankind; it -is still believed, by otherwise intelligent people, that the morals -of nations may be mended, by defining the quality of their food and -the quantity of their drink. With this conception in mind, we shall -cease to be surprised that Herodotus devotes so much time and care to -describe the preparation of plum-cake, or kirschwasser, or beer. Man -might not live by bread alone; but if you once were certain that a man -did live on bread, and not on monkeys, or on lice, you knew already a -good deal about the habits and the value of that man. - -It was probably the circumstance that this magical interpretation was -so commonly attached to food-supply that prevented Greek observers, -such as Herodotus and Hippocrates, from pressing home their analysis -of the food-quest as an index of the general economic régime. And the -same ambiguity envelops also, unfortunately, the next recorded attempt -at such analysis. It can hardly be accident that, in the sketch of the -ἀναγκαιοτάτη πόλις in the _Republic_,[110] the diet of the citizens is -wholly vegetarian, and almost wholly cereal. And when Glaucon -interrupts, and asks what has happened to the meat, Socrates wilfully -misunderstands his question, and prescribes once more only salt, -cheese, and _vegetable_ relishes--olives, and bulbous roots, and wild -herbs, with figs, lentils, and beans, myrtle-berries and forest nuts to -follow. Glaucon’s comment on this is precise and contemptuous: ‘If you -had been planning a city of pigs, Socrates, what other fodder than this -would you have given them?’ And on being pressed for an alternative, he -stipulates expressly for the _customary_ food of civilized men, ‘and -meat dishes such as people have nowadays.’ It is entirely in keeping -with all this,[111] that ὄψα recur further on, along with tables, -chairs, and unguents, as signs of a corrupted state; that hunters and -cooks appear among the ministers of luxury; and swineherds last of all, -for the pig alone among cattle gives neither milk or cheese, but is -useful only for meat diet. - -Here three distinct lines of argument are inextricably confused. In the -first place, we have seen already that it was the regular Greek belief -that man began existence as a forest animal, living on the hazel-nuts -and acorns characteristic of the Balkan and Anatolian regions; and only -acquired the knowledge of corn, wine, and oil by special providence, -and at a later time: in this sense, therefore, Socrates is proposing -a return to primitive diet. In the second place, the diet which he -suggests is the only one possible for people who should try to live a -life independent and at the same time inoffensive. But, thirdly, this -diet is precisely that which a fourth-century doctor would have been -expected to prescribe for a patient τρυφῶντὶ καὶ φλεγμαίνοντι. But -there is enough of common motive in all three considerations, to make -it clear that even one of the least anthropological among his pupils -could represent Socrates as starting from a conception of man and -his place in the world which is precisely that of a fifth-century -physicist.[112] - -I conclude with a well-known Herodotean episode, in which much true -history has been remodelled clearly in the light of a definite -classification of βίοι, and a definite theory of their relative values -and economic interactions. In the story of the rise of Peisistratus, as -told by Herodotus,[113] the _motif_ of the action throughout the first -phase of his career is that of three contrasted βίοι: the life of the -shore, of the sea, and of the men from over the hills. In form the -division is geographical, but the phrase which is used, τῷ λόγῳ τῶν -ὑπερακρίων προστάς, suggests that it is not a district but a region -which is in question; and that what differentiated this region from -the others was this, that it lay above corn level. Any one who will -go in spring-time and look round from the Acropolis upon Attica, will -recognize that abrupt change from the emerald green to the purple and -brown, which tells where πεδίον and cornland end, and the goats of the -ὑπεράκρια begin. And I have seen along the base of Taygetus, along the -same economic frontier, where a track like a coastguard’s path has been -worn by the police patrols, in their attempt, not always successful, to -prevent στάσις from bursting into πόλεμος. We should note in passing -that the question whether the pastoral highlanders of Attica exhausted -the whole content of the λόγος τῶν ὐπερακρίων--whether, that is, the -party of Peisistratus included the mining interests of the district -of Laureion, as suggested by Mr. Ure,[114] is totally distinct from -the question now before us, which is simply what the word conveyed -to the mind of Herodotus the Halicarnassian. And if this distinction -be granted, the suggestion, which is after all the conventional one, -that the ground of division between the Attic factions was regarded by -Herodotus as an economic one, receives much support from the perennial -state of Balkan lands, with their oases of corn-growers amid a highland -wilderness of Vlachs. - -In these circumstances, the fact that Peisistratus, whatever his -real character may have been, is described as the leader of the most -_backward_ section of the population, is entirely in agreement with the -rest of the picture. For throughout, in Herodotus’ presentation of him, -Peisistratus is the man of paradoxes. His father, before his birth, had -accepted the omen of the cauldron spontaneously boiling; the son was to -kindle a great fire where there was no light--but only plenty of fuel. -So again, Peisistratus, unlike the Sibyl, at each rejection offers -Athens more. The rejected party-leader becomes Athena’s man, the man of -an united Attica; and Athena’s man, whom Athena’s people expelled, -rests not till he can offer, of his own, every corner stone of an -Athenian Empire in its greatest days. And so here, again, there is -_stasis_ between rich and poor, between primitive and advanced, between -sedentary and nomad--so far as nomadism was practicable in Attica; and -it is the λεπτὰ τῶν προβάτων, as with Perdiccas and with David, which -produce, in due time, the great man. It is a miniature, of course, -this sketch of the sixth-century Attica, as befits its modest part in -the scheme of the Herodotean drama; but the handling of it is none the -less significant, on that account, of the way in which the idea of -conflicting νὁμοι is allowed to model and interpret the materials. - -I have tried, in brief space, to indicate some ways in which our -knowledge of the Greek world, fragmentary as it is, enables us to -recover some at least of the broad lines of method by which the early -history of Man, and the causes of his variations and of his social -states, were being investigated in the fifth century and before: and -to interpret some of the results which were reached, in the light of -the reasoning which led to them, and the principles by which they -were interpreted in antiquity. We have seen that in some points Greek -anthropology had gone surprisingly far, in speculation, and in acute -observation too; and we have seen it baffled, in other directions, by -puzzles and mistakes which seem trivial to us. And we have seen, in the -particular instance of one who was at the same time a great historian -and an alert observer of anthropological fact, something of the way in -which pre-Socratic stages of theory worked out when they were applied -to research in the hands of an ordinary man. Above all, I have ventured -to suggest--what I hope it may be for others to carry forward--an -inquiry into the anthropological basis of the political doctrine of -Socrates; and so to link him, on this side of his thought, with that -great body of naturalist work, which I would gladly believe that he -came not to destroy but to fulfil. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[64] The Muses were the daughters of Mnemosyne: but who was their -Father? - -[65] Schol. _Od._ xix. 163. - -[66] _Fr._ 64 (Didot). - -[67] _Fr._ 25 (Didot). - -[68] Plut. _De Plac. Phil._ v. 19 (Ritter and Preller, 7th ed., 16). - -[69] Euseb. _Praep. Ev._ i. 8 (R. P. 16). - -[70] Plut. _Symp. Quaest._ viii. 8. 4 (R. P. 16). - -[71] Hippocrates, περἱ φύσιος παιδίου (ed. Kuhn, Leipzig, 1825, p. 391). - -[72] Hippolytus, _Ref. Haer._ i. 9 (R. P. 171). - -[73] Herodotus ii. 143. - -[74] Herodotus ii. 10-11. - -[75] Herodotus ii. 12. - -[76] Herodotus v. 9. - -[77] Aeschylus, _Fr._ 177. - -[78] _Fr._ 183. - -[79] _Suppl._ 286. - -[80] _Fr._ 303. - -[81] _Fr._ 290. - -[82] _P. V._ 808. - -[83] _Fr._ 178. - -[84] _Suppl._ 287. - -[85] _P. V._ 723. - -[86] Compare μύρμηκες in _P. V._ 453 with Hes. _Fr._ 64, about the -aborigines of Aegina, and with Lucretius v. 790 ff. - -[87] _Persae_, 181 ff. - -[88] _Suppl._ 234 ff. - -[89] _Suppl._ 287-8. - -[90] _Suppl._ 241-3. - -[91] _Suppl._ 244-5. - -[92] _Suppl._ 279 ff. - -[93] viii. 144 αὖτις δὲ τὸ Ἑλληνικόν, ἐὸν ὅμαιμόν τε καὶ ὁμόγλωσσον, -καὶ θεῶν ἱδρύματά τε κοινά καὶ θυσίαι ἤθεά τε ὁμότροπα, τῶν προδότας -γενέσθαι Ἀφηναίους οὐκ ἂν εὖ ἔχοι. - -[94] _Religion and Conscience in Ancient Egypt_, pp. 18-20. - -[95] Herodotus iv. 23 ἄνθρωποι λεγόμενοι εἶναι (1) πάντες φαλακροὶ ἐκ -γενετῆς γινόμενοι, καὶ ἔρσενες καὶ φήλεαι ὁμοίως, καὶ γένεια -ἔχροντες μεγάλα, (2) φονὴν δὲ ἰδίης ἱέντες, (3) ἐσθῆτι δὲ -χρεώμενοι Σκυθικῇ, (4) ζῆντες δὲ ἀπο δενδρέον. An exactly -similar series of adversatives follows in the very next sentence, about -the _Pontikon_ tree. - -[96] Herodotus vii. 183. - -[97] Herodotus vii. 181. - -[98] Herodotus iv. 110. - -[99] The phrase of Herodotus i. 105, if interpreted strictly, means -that the Scythians of _Scythia_ themselves suffered from this defect, -and gave as the reason for it the story which he relates. - -[100] Hippocrates, περι ἱερῆς vούσου (ed. Kuhn, Leipzig, p. 561), ἐμοὶ -δὲ καὶ αὐτέῳ δοκεῖ ταῦτα τὰ πάθεα θεῖα εἶναι καὶ τἆλλα πάντα, καὶ οὐδὲν -ἕτερος ἑτέρου θειότερος οὐδὲ ἀντθρωπίνωτερον, ἀλλὰ πάντα θεῖα· ἕκαστον -καὶ ἔχει φύσιν τῶν τοιουτέων, καὶ οὐδὲν ἄνευ φύσιος γίγνεται. - -[101] Herodotus v. 9. - -[102] Murray, _The Rise of the Greek Epic_, p. 69. - -[103] Egypt, of course, had done great things in this direction under -the earliest dynasties. - -[104] Hippocrates, περὶ Ἀέρων (ed. Kuhn), p. 551. - -[105] Hippocrates, περὶ Ἀέρων (ed. Kuhn), p. 550. - -[106] Diogenes Laertius ii. 16 (R. P. 169). - -[107] Simpl. _in Arist. Phys._ fol. 6 (R. P. 170). - -[108] Choerilus is the only early authority for the theory, criticized -by Hdt. iii. 115, that the Eridanus is in Germany. Serv. ad Virg. _G._ -i. 482 ‘Thesias (Ctesias) hunc (Eridanum) in Media esse, Choerilus -in Germania, in quo flumine Edion (Phaethon) extinctus est.’ Fr. 13 -(Didot). Choerilus fr. 3 (Didot): - - μηλονόμοι δὲ Σάκαι, γενεῇ Σκύθαι, αὐτὰρ ἔναιον - Ἀσίδα πυροφόρον, νομάδων γε μὲν ἦσαν ἄποικοι - ἀνθρὠπων νομίμων. - -[109] Fragment 189 ἀλλ’ ἱππάκης βρωτῆρες εὔνομιοι Σκύται. Fragment 184: - - ἔπειτα δ’ ἥξει δῆμον ἐνδικώτατον - ... ἁπάντων καὶ φιλοξενώτατον - Γαβίους, ἵν οὔτ’ ἄροτρον οὔτε γατόμος - τέμνει δίκελλ’ ἄρουραν, ἀλλ’ αὐτόσποροι - γύαι φέρουσι βίοτον ἄφθονον βρότοις. - -[110] Plato, _Rep._ 370-2. - -[111] Plato, _Rep._ 373. - -[112] Far more explicit and detailed is the comparative study of -foreign customs which _underlies_ Socratic doctrine in the _Laws_. The -stock examples of the fifth century, Sarmatians (804 E), Amazons (806 -A), Thracians (805 D), and the like, are all there, side by side with -the Spartans and the Cretans, the Persians, the Egyptians, and the -Phoenicians (750 C). But the anthropological basis of fourth-century -thought is a distinct subject, and would require a whole chapter to -itself. - -[113] Hdt. i. 59. - -[114] P. Ure, _Journ. Hell. Studies_, xxvi. pp. 134 ff. - - - - -LECTURE VI - -LUSTRATIO - - -The practice which is the subject of this lecture was a comparatively -late growth in the religious history of ancient Italy. We commonly -and vaguely translate _lustratio_ by ‘purification’, _lustrare_ by -‘purify’; but in Latin literature there is another sense of the word, -which shows well how one particular kind of purification had become -associated with it--I mean the sense of a slow ordered movement in -procession. This stately processional movement, so characteristic of -the old Roman character, so characteristic still of the grandeur and -discipline of the Roman Church in Italy, impressed itself for ever -on the Latin language in the word _lustrare_. Let me quote a single -beautiful example of it. When Aeneas first sees and addresses Dido he -says: - - In freta dum fluvii current, _dum montibus umbrae - Lustrabunt convexa_, polus dum sidera pascet, - Semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt, - Quae me cumque vocant terrae.[115] - -‘So long as the cloud-shadows move slowly over the hollows on the -hills.’ Long ago, when fishing in Wales, I watched this procession of -the shadows, and ever since then it has been associated in my mind with -the many ancient Italian processions which I have had to study. Such is -the magical power of a great poet of nature. - -But before we go on to examine the nature and meaning of these -processions it is necessary to go much further back, in order to get -some idea of the primitive Italian ideas of ‘purification’ out of -which they were developed. We know them only in the farm and the city -of historical times; they belong at the earliest to the comparatively -settled and civilized life of the Italian agricultural community, and -reached their highest development in the highly organized City-State. -But there is much to be said--much more than I have time to say -now--about the ideas to which they owe their origin. - -There are certain words in Latin bearing the sense of purification, -which are older, if I am not mistaken, than _lustrare_ and _lustratio_, -and which belong, I should be inclined to believe, to a ‘pre-animistic’ -period: to a period, that is, when the thing to be got rid of by what -we call purification was not so much evil influences in the form of -spirits as some mysterious miasmatic contamination. These words are -_februum_, _februare_, _februatio_, from which the name of our second -month, the month of purification, is derived. _Februum_ is a material -object with magical purifying power, which the late Romans might call -_piamen_, or _purgamen_ (Ovid, _Fast._ ii. 19 foll.), using a word -belonging to the priestly ritual of the fully developed State. A number -of such objects were in use at Rome on particular occasions, all called -generically by this name _februum_--water, fire, sulphur, laurel, wool, -pine-twigs, cakes made of certain ‘holy’ ingredients, and at the -Lupercalia, strips of the skin of a victim. These belong to the region -of magic, and are intimately connected with charms and amulets, which -were and still are so popular and universal in Italy. They belong -to the same category, psychologically considered, as the _bulla_ of -children, the _apex_ of the _flamines_, a pointed twig fixed on the -head or head-dress, and the _galerus_, the cap of the Flamen Dialis, -made of the skin of a white victim which had been sacrificed to -Jupiter. These are all survivals from an older stratum of religious -thought than the processional rites which we are going to study: they -date from a period when magical processes were the rule and religious -processes the exception. - -I am not going to let myself be drawn here into the vexed question of -the relation of religion to magic--two words which, simply by virtue of -their being words with constantly shifting connotation--are very apt -to mislead us. But putting aside this controversy, it is helpful, I -think, to suggest that _februum_ and _februare_ belong to an age when -material contamination, e. g. of a corpse or of blood--in other words, -of things ‘taboo’--could be got rid of by magical means, _lustrare_ -and _lustratio_ to an age when the thing to be driven and kept away is -spiritual mischief--the influence of spirits that may be hostile--and -when the means used are sacrifices and prayer, with processional -movement. To draw the line clearly, however, between a magical period -and a religious period is in Roman history quite impossible, as indeed -it is and must be everywhere. Magical and quasi-magical processes are -taken up into the processes of a period which may be called religious, -and survive in an amphibious condition for which it is difficult to -find a name. The Flamen Dialis, for example, was priest of Jupiter, -and as such in all his duties was an official of a highly organized -religious system, yet he was afflicted with an extraordinary number -of taboos--now familiar to all readers of _The Golden Bough_--which -survived from a period long anterior to that of religion in the true -sense of the word. The purification of new-born children on the _dies -lustricus_ is an essential part of the religion of the family, and the -word _lustricus_ is itself, in my view, a mark of a period of religion; -but the original meaning of the ceremony is probably to be found in -pre-animistic ideas. So too with the purification of the family after a -funeral, where the original horror of a corpse common to all primitive -peoples is still just discernible in the religious ritual of historical -times.[116] And, as we shall presently see, the belief that he who has -shed blood, even of an enemy, needs purification, is still to be found -lurking in the form of one of those acts of _lustratio_ with which we -are about to occupy ourselves. - -But on the whole it may be said of the Romans, as Dr. Farnell has said -of our Teutonic ancestors (_Evolution of Religion_, p. 108), that -cathartic ritual did not weigh heavily on their consciences. Assuredly -it may be so said of the Romans of historical times, subjected to the -quieting influences of priestly law and ritual, which found infallible -remedies for the conscience of the individual, for his fear of evil -powers material or spiritual--expedients to emancipate him from the -bondage of taboo[117]--in the religious action of the State as a whole. -It may perhaps be guessed that even in an age long before the State -arose the conscience of the Latin was never ‘intensified’ as regards -purification from bloodshed or other mischance or misdeed. The impurity -or holiness of blood, as conceived by all primitive peoples, has left -no obvious trace in Roman ideas, legends, or literature; it is to be -found, but it does not attract our attention as it does in Greece. I -believe that the explanation of this lies in the genius of the Roman -for law, and in his early and very distinct conception of the State and -of the authority of its officials. It may, indeed, be also due to the -invasion of Latium by a people of advanced culture, who had but little -to say to the grosser material ideas of an aboriginal population; -but this is still merely speculation, into which I cannot enter now. -Whatever the cause, the religion of the Romans as we know it shows -no horror, no fear, so long as the worship of the gods is performed -exactly and correctly according to the rules of the State priesthoods: -there is no sense of sin or of pollution, of taboo irremediably broken, -haunting the mind of the individual: all is cheerfully serious, -regular, ordered, ritualistic; and nowhere can we see this better than -in the public and private lustral processions of the Roman people. - -A word, however, in the first place about the original meaning of the -word _lustratio_. _Lustrare_ is a strong form of _luere_: and _luere_ -is explained by Varro as equivalent to _solvere_ (De Ling. Lat. vi. -11): ‘Lustrum nominatum tempus quinquennale a luendo, id est solvendo; -quod quinto quoque anno vectigalia et ultro tributa per censores -persolvebantur.’ He is followed by Servius, who explains such -expressions as ‘paena commissa luere’, ‘peccata luere’, ‘supplicium -luere’,[118] on the same principle. We might, therefore, be tempted to -think that the root-meaning of _lustrare_ is to perform a duty or an -obligation, and so to rid oneself of it--to go through a religious -rite as due to a deity. But this would be to misconceive the original -meaning of the word as completely as Varro did when he explained -_luere_ by reference to the payment of taxes. We have not yet arrived -at a period in Roman thought when we can speak of a sense of religious -duty: it is not a money obligation or a ritualistic one that has to be -got ‘rid of’, in the earliest ages of the Latin farm or City-State, but -those ubiquitous spirits, presumably hostile until they are reclaimed, -which haunt the life of man in the animistic stage. Varro and his -successors do, however, give us the right clue; they see that the -idea lurking in the word is that of purging yourself or getting rid -of something, but they understand that something in the light, not of -primitive man’s intelligence, but of the relation of man to man in a -civilized state. - -If, then, _lustrare_ originally embodies this sense of ridding -oneself of something, we can now go on to examine the oldest forms -of _lustratio_. I will not here go into the further question whether -_lues_, a pest, and the shadowy deity _Lua_ Mater, who was the consort -or companion in some antique sense of Saturnus, are words belonging to -the same group and explicable on the same principle. - -Now, in order to understand clearly how this necessity of getting rid -of hostile spirits came to suggest those solemn processional rites -which we associate with the word _lustratio_, we must fully appreciate -the fact that the earliest settlers in Italy who had any knowledge -of agriculture found it a country of forest-clad hills; the river -valleys were marshy and unhealthy, and the earliest settlements were -in clearings made in the woodland. This fact was dimly appreciated by -the Romans themselves, and is proved by the archaeological evidence -available to-day. The first thing, then, to be done was to make a -clearing; and this was a most perilous task, for when you cut down -trees and dug up the soil, how were you to tell what unknown spirits -you might be disturbing and aggravating? They might be in the trees and -the plants, they might be in the animals whose homes were in the trees -and the ground, the rocks and the springs. In the later Roman ritual we -can still see traces of this old feeling of peril. Cato has preserved -for us the formula used by the farmer in historical times when making -a new clearing; the prayer accompanying his sacrifice began with ‘Si -deus, si dea’--for how was he to know the name or sex of the spirit of -the wood he was invading? When digging up the soil he had to offer an -expiatory sacrifice; and the ancient gild of the Fratres Arvales had to -offer special _piacula_ for the falling of a bough in their grove, or -for any injury to a tree in it.[119] - -And when your clearing was complete, and you had settled down with your -own household spirits, e. g. of the hearth-fire and the store-cupboard -(Vesta and Penates), or had induced some of the native spirits to -be friendly and serviceable to you--those especially of the land -and the springs,--there was yet another difficulty of the greatest -importance, viz. to keep those wild ones still dwelling in the woodland -around you from encroaching on your clearing or annoying you in your -dwelling. That they really could be thus annoying is proved by a -curious bit of folklore of which Varro knew, and which has luckily been -preserved by St. Augustine, a student of Varro’s works, as an example -of Pagan absurdity (_Civ. Dei_, vi. 9). After the birth of a child, -three spirits were invoked--Intercidona, Pilumnus, and Deverra--to -prevent Silvanus (the later representative of the woodland spirits -generally) from coming into the house and making mischief by night. -These three spirits, as their names show, represented the life of -settled agriculture: the cutting and pruning of trees (Intercidona), -the pounding of corn for the daily meal (Pilumnus), and the raking -and sweeping up of the grain (Deverra); and Varro says that they were -represented by three men, who imitated the action of axe, pestle, and -broom. The real significance of this delightful bit of mummery has -never, I think, been correctly understood, simply because the vital -difference to the earliest settler between the benevolent spirits of -the reclaimed clearing and the hostile spirits of the wild woodland has -never been quite fully appreciated. - -But this device was one to which you need only have recourse on a -particular occasion; the permanent difficulty was to mark off your -cultivated land from the forest and its dangerous spiritual population, -in some way by which the latter might be prevented from making itself -unpleasant. You must draw a definite line between good spirits and bad, -between white spirits and black. Here it is that we find the origin of -a practice which lasted all through Roman history, passed on into the -ritual of the Church, and still survives, as at Oxford on Ascension -Day, in the beating of parish bounds. The boundary of the cultivated -land was marked out in some material way, perhaps by stones placed -at intervals, like the _cippi_ of the old Roman _pomerium_, from the -woodland lying around it; and this boundary-line was made sacred by the -passage round it (_lustratio_) at some fixed time of the year--in May -as a rule, when the crops were ripening and especially liable to be -attacked by hostile influences--of a procession occupied with sacrifice -and prayer. I must dwell for a moment on this procession as it is -described by old Cato; but at this point I may just interpolate the -remark that the object of its mysterious influence was the arable land -only and the crops.[120] The sheep and cattle were otherwise protected, -when, after their seclusion within the boundary during the winter, they -were driven out in April to pasture beyond it, where they would be in -far greater peril from enemies spiritual and other. If you wish to see -how this was done, read Ovid’s account of the Parilia in the fourth -book of his _Fasti_, and Dr. Frazer’s illuminating commentary on it -(St. George and the Parilia) in the _Revue des Études Ethnographiques -et Sociologiques_ for 1908, p. 1 foll. - -Cato in his treatise on agriculture has left us, in the form of -instructions to a real or imaginary bailiff, the formula of the -lustratio as it was used in the second century B.C. It is obviously -applicable in detail rather to the estate of that period than to a farm -of primitive Latium: there are, for example, words which suggest that -it was not necessary in those days to go in procession round the whole -of the boundary; as was the case afterwards with the lustratio of the -ager Romanus, the form survived accommodated to the great increase -of the land concerned. But the two main features of the whole rite -are no doubt identical with those of the earliest form of it--i. e. -the procession of the victims, ox, sheep, and pig, the farmer’s most -valuable property, with the sacrificer and his helps, in this case the -bailiff and his assistants: and secondly the prayer to Mars pater, -after libations to Janus and Jupiter, asking for his kindly protection -of the whole _familia_ of the farm, together with the crops of every -kind, and the cattle within the boundary-line. Though it is not -explicitly told us, we can hardly doubt that originally the procession -followed the boundary-line, and thus served to keep it clear in the -memory as well as to preserve everything within it from hostile spirits -outside of it. In Cato’s formula it is disease, calamity, dearth, and -infertility, that the farmer seeks to ward off--that is the language -of the second century B.C.: and it is Mars pater who is invoked, i. -e. a great god who has long ago emerged from the crowd of impersonal -spirits; but we need not doubt that the primitive farmer used language -of a different kind, and addressed the spirits of disease and dearth -themselves, of whom one survived into historic times--Robigus, the -spirit of mildew. In the ritual of the Arval Brethren, who perhaps -retained some details more antique than those of Cato’s instructions, -it is a nameless deity, the Dea Dia, who is the chief object of -petition (_Acta Fratr. Arv._, p. 48). - -At this point it may be well to ask what was the original idea of the -virtue conveyed by going round a piece of land with victims to be -sacrificed at the end of the circuit. Such circuitous processions, -with or without victims, are to be found in all countries: perhaps -the instance most familiar to all of us is that round the walls of -Jericho, repeated seven times--the mystic number--in order to destroy -their defensive power. But Roman folklore itself, preserved in great -abundance by Pliny, supplies an example which goes some way, I think, -to show the original nature of the process. Pliny tells us that if -a woman in a certain condition, with bare feet and streaming hair, -walked round a field, it was completely protected against insects.[121] -The act of passing round a crop served as a charm to keep off noxious -things--live insects in historical times, noxious spirits, if I am -right, in the dawn of agriculture. The charm lay in the condition of -the woman, as Dr. Frazer has abundantly shown in _The Golden Bough_ -(iii, ed. 2, p. 232 foll.), where he has quoted this passage of -Pliny and others from the Roman writers on agriculture. Some power -of a similar kind there must have been also in the victims about to -be slain; they were chosen according to rule, and under favourable -auspices (if we may argue back from the ritual of the city to that of -the farm): they were therefore holy, and their blood was about to be -shed at one point in the line of circuit. We have here, indeed, passed -beyond the region of magic, but we are still in that early stage of -religion when a magical idea is at the bottom of the ceremony, though -fast losing itself in ideas more advanced and rational. - -This religious process, the fencing out of hostile spirits by a -boundary-line, and the discovery of the proper formulae for preserving -it and all within it, may and indeed must have been the work of ages. -But once discovered, the principle of it could be applied to any land -or other property of man, and also to man himself. Let us now take some -examples of such extensions of the simple practice of the farm. - -The farms and homesteads of the early Latins were grouped together -in associations called _pagi_; and these were subjected to the same -process of lustratio as the farms themselves. So at least we can hardly -doubt, though we have no explicit account of the processional character -of the _lustratio pagi_. When Ovid, under date of the Paganalia (Jan. -24-6), describes the lustratio, he writes: - - Pagus agat festum: pagum lustrate, coloni, - Et date paganis annua liba focis: - -but does not make it clear that he uses _lustrare_ in the sense of -a procession with the suovetaurilia. Nor can we be sure that the -beautiful passage in the first _Georgic_ (338 foll.), beginning, ‘In -primis venerare deos,’ refers to a _lustratio pagi_, though Wissowa -seems to imply it,[122] and the lines - - Terque novas circum felix eat hostia fruges, - Omnis quam chorus et socii comitentur ovantes - Et Cererem clamore vocent in tecta ... - -give a charming picture of a lustratio of this kind, without enabling -us to decide whether he has the farm or the pagus in his mind. Let -us go on to the beginnings of the city, where we shall find the same -principle and process applied in most striking fashion. - -Just as it was necessary to keep hostile spirits out of the homestead -and its land, so it was necessary to keep them out of the city and its -land. The walls of the Italian city were sacred, and so was a certain -space outside them, called the _pomerium_. This is well illustrated in -the rite used in the foundation of a city even in historical times, -as described by Varro, Servius, and Plutarch:[123] it was believed to -be of Etruscan origin, like so many other Roman rites, but it is now -generally considered to be old Italian in a general sense. A white ox -and a white cow were harnessed to a plough, of which the share must be -made of bronze, and (on an auspicious day) drew a rectangular furrow -where the walls of the city were to be: the earth was turned inwards to -indicate the line of the wall, and the furrow represented the future -pomerium. When the plough came to the place where there was to be a -gate, it was lifted over it and the ploughing resumed beyond it. This -meant that though the walls were sacred, the gates were profane; for, -as Plutarch says, had the gates been holy, scruple would have been -felt about the passage in and out of them of unholy things. The result -of this religious process was to keep outside the sacred boundary of -the wall all evil and strange spirits (or, as we may now say, seeing -that we are entering an era of higher civilization, strange _gods_); -and inside it there dwelt only those who belonged to the place and its -inhabitants (_indigetes_), and whose alliance and protection had become -assured. Inside it, too, and only within its limits, could the auspicia -of the city be taken. - -We might naturally expect that this sacred wall and boundary would have -its holiness and efficacy secured by an annual lustratio of the same -kind as that of the farm and pagus; and so it was. We know that there -was at Rome a lustral rite called Amburbium, which probably took place -at the beginning of the month of purification (February); but it is -for us unluckily little more than a name. Later on in the same month -we find the extraordinary rite of the Lupercalia (15th), in which the -pomerium is so far concerned as that the Luperci, or young men who -served as priests on the occasion, ran round the ancient boundary of -the Palatine settlement, girt with the skins of the victims, striking -at all women who came near them with strips cut from these same skins, -in order to produce fertility. But was this really a _lustratio urbis_? -In my _Roman Festivals_ I treated it as such (p. 319), on the ground -that Varro uses the word lustrare in alluding to it. I am now, however, -disposed to think that Varro was here using the word in a general and -not a technical sense, and that the object of it was not, as in the -rites we have been discussing, to keep evil spirits away from the -city as a whole. It seems to be a survival of some very primitive -magico-religious ideas, into which I will not enter now. Certain it -is that the leading feature of the true lustratio is absent from it; -instead of a slow and stately procession of worshippers and victims, we -have the wild running of almost naked youths, apparently personating or -embodying a deity. - -Fortunately we can illustrate the real lustratio of a city from a -different source, and in this case most luckily a documentary one, but -from an Umbrian city instead of a Latin one. The town of Gubbio, the -modern form of Iguvium, still preserves the priestly instructions, -drawn up from older sources probably at the beginning of the last -century B. C., for the lustratio of its citadel, the arx (_ocris -Fisia_), by a guild of priests called the Fratres Attiedii.[124] Here -the ceremony has been developed under priestly influence into a series -of ritualistic acts of the highest exactness and complexity; but the -main features of the lustratio stand out quite clearly. The procession -goes solemnly round the arx, with the victims, which are the same -as those of the Latin lustratio; at each gate it stops, and offers -sacrifice and prayer on behalf of the citadel, the city, and the whole -people of Iguvium. The gates, three in number, are the scene of the -actual sacrifice and prayer, because they are the weak points in the -wall, as we have seen, and they need to be spiritually strengthened -by annual religious operations, though not such as would make them -permanently sacred like the wall itself. Doubtless the Fratres Attiedii -would have been unable to explain this as I am explaining it; the -sense of a hostile spiritual world outside the sacred boundary had -vanished from the Italian mind when these elaborate liturgical formulae -were drawn up. The prayers are cast in language that hardly differs -from those of a Church of to-day which asks for a blessing on a -community. The deities of the city are asked to preserve the name, the -magistrates, rites, men, cattle, land, and crops--a list in which the -_name_ is the only item which carries us clearly back to pre-Christian -times. The ideas and the deities have been developed into a religious -system of considerable complexity, but the actual proceedings, the -procession and the prayers at the gates, still remind us of the rock -whence all this ritual was hewn. - -I said that human beings might be subjected to the lustral process -_en masse_, as well as land and city. Before we return from Iguvium -to Rome, I may mention that the Iguvian documents also contain -instructions for the lustratio of the people.[125] So far as we can -gather from the Umbrian text, the people was brought together in a -particular spot in its military divisions, and round them a procession -went three times; at the end of each circuit there was sacrifice and -prayer (the former not apparently with the usual suovetaurilia), and -Mars and two female consorts or representatives of his power were -entreated to confound and frighten certain enemies of the city, in -language which reminds me of the prayer in time of war, now happily -abandoned, which I can remember as a child being read in the days -of the Crimean war--‘abate their pride, assuage their malice, and -confound their devices’. Then followed of course a prayer for blessing -on the Iguvini. This may conveniently bring us back to Rome; for in -the account of the census and lustrum in the Campus Martius given by -Dionysius of Halicarnassus (iv. 22), we find the suovetaurilia driven -three times round the assembled host with sacrifice to Mars. This was -no doubt really the early form of the census, which had a military -meaning and origin. - -The explanation of this lustration of the host, the male population -in arms, of a community, is not quite the same as that of the rite as -applied to a city; yet it takes us back to the same animistic period -and the same class of ideas. These armies were likely to have to march -against enemies living far beyond the pale of the _ager Romanus_, and -therefore among spirits with whom the Romans or Iguvians, as the case -might be, had no peaceful relations, and of whose ways and freaks they -were in fact entirely ignorant. They must, therefore, be protected -against such evil influences by some special device and ritual. Of this -kind of practice Dr. Frazer has collected some examples in _Golden -Bough_, i. 304 foll., both from savage tribes and from Greek usage. As -we are dealing here with Rome only, we may content ourselves with a -parallel from the pen of a Roman historian, which, as it happens, Dr. -Frazer has not mentioned. Livy tells us that the method in Macedonia -was to march the whole host in spring before a campaign between the -severed limbs of a dog (xl. 6 init.). This only differs from the -Italian plan in method, not in principle: the object in each case is to -subject the whole army without exception to the salutary influence of -the victim: but in Macedonia it is made to pass between the two parts -of a slain victim, while in Italy the live victims are made to pass -round the army, and afterwards sacrificed. That each Roman army was -thus lustrated is almost certain (_Dict. Ant._, vol. ii. 102): in fact -the word lustratio came to mean a review of troops for this reason, -without religious signification: so at least we are used to take such -expressions as Cicero uses of his army in Cilicia, ‘exercitum lustravi’ -(_Att._ v. 20. 2). Even the fleets were subjected to the same process: -and in Livy xxix. 27 we have a prayer addressed by Scipio to the -deities of the sea before sailing for Africa, which may remind us of -those used during the lustration of the people at Iguvium. - -Further, at this same time, in spring, before the season of arms, -all the appurtenances of the army were ‘purified’--the horses, the -arms, and the trumpets. So at least we may gather from the fact that -there was a festival in the oldest religious calendar at the end of -February called Equirria, and another of the same name on March 14 -following; though the real meaning of the word was lost in later times, -this explanation is strongly suggested by the dates, and also by the -place, i. e. the Campus Martius. (If this was flooded it took place -on the Caelian hill.) The details of the festival, which must have -included horse racing, are unfortunately lost. The Equirria of March -14 seems to correspond to a curious rite, of which the date is October -15, i.e. after the season of arms; on that day there was a two-horse -chariot-race in the Campus Martius, and the near horse of the winning -chariot was sacrificed to Mars, with peculiar ritual following the -slaughter. It is tempting to refer this rite to a lustratio of the -horses after their return from a campaign: but here again the details -of a true lustratio are not forthcoming. It may have originally been, -as Wissowa suggests, a cathartic rite purifying the army from the taint -of bloodshed (cf. _G. B._ i. 332 foll.); the blood of the sacrificed -horse was allowed to drip upon the sacred hearth of the Regia, and it -is probable that it was used in the making of certain sacred cakes -(_mola salsa_) of great cathartic value. But it is remarkable that -this rite was not included in the festivals of the ancient calendar: -we know of it only from other sources. I am inclined to hazard a guess -that it belonged to a type of ceremony which the earliest pontifical -legislators were unwilling to recognize; their efforts, as it seems to -me, must have been directed to make the worship of the people as pure -and orderly as possible.[126] - -The old calendar also supplies strong evidence that the arms and the -trumpets of the host were lustrated, both before and after a campaign. -On March 19, called _Quinquatrus_, because it was the fifth day after -the Ides, the _ancilia_, or shields of the war-priests of Mars, were -thus purified; and it is a good guess that they stood for the arms of -the fighting men generally. For on October 19 we find the festival -Armilustrium, which tells its own tale. On that day it seems clear -that both arma and ancilia were lustrated, and that the Salii for this -purpose went round the armed host in a place called by the same name as -the rite, in or near the Circus maximus (Varro, _L.L._ 6. 22: cf. 5. -153). Again, we have March 23 marked in the calendar as Tubilustrium; -and though the old explanations confine these _tubae_ to such as were -used _in sacris_, I believe, with Wissowa, that included in these were -the trumpets of the host.[127] - -Lastly, we may believe that the army was purified from the taint of -bloodshed after its return from a campaign, just as the Hebrew warriors -and their captives were purified before re-entering the camp after a -battle (Num. xxi. 19). I have just now suggested that the sacrifice of -the October horse may have originally had this object. But in Roman -pontifical law the idea of the taint of bloodshed is only faintly -discernible, as is also the case in the Homeric poems (Farnell, -_Evolution_, p. 133); and the only distinct trace of it that I can find -in regard to the army is a statement of Festus that the soldiers who -followed the general’s car in a triumph wore laurel wreaths ‘ut quasi -purgati a caede humana intrarent urbem’ (_Fest._ 117). Laurel was a -powerful purgative of such taint. - -I have now given some brief account of the most remarkable examples of -the characteristic type of lustration in Italy, and more especially at -Rome; and it only remains for me to sum up in outline what I have been -saying. We began with the ideas of purification which were common to -the Italians and other primitive peoples, and which have left traces -here and there in the public and private ritual of the Romans, but -without showing any great vital force, such as might enable them to -develop into matters of religious or ethical importance in Roman life. -We then saw how the nature of the Italian peninsula as it was in the -dawn of civilization, and the universal belief in a world of spirits -haunting mountain and woodland, compelled the early Latin farmer to -draw a well-defined boundary line between the land he had reclaimed and -the forest beyond it, within which he and his familia and his friendly -spirits or deities might be at peace; and how he sought to render this -boundary impermeable to the hostile spirits outside it by a yearly -ceremony consisting of a procession around it of victims for sacrifice. -Then we saw how this same practice was retained in the service of the -State, and applied to the foundation of a city, to its land, to the -circuit of its walls, to its people in the form of the men capable of -carrying arms, to the horses, the arms, and the trumpets of this host. - -In conclusion, I must ask the question whether this impressive ritual -of lustratio ever came to have any religious or moral import for the -Roman people. Undoubtedly the idea which lay at the root of it, the -protection of the city and its inhabitants from hostile spirits or -strange gods, disappeared from the Roman mind at an early period among -the governing and better educated classes. In one point only, so far as -I know, can we detect a survival of it,--namely, in the persistence of -the pontifices in refusing to admit new gods within the sacred circle -of the pomerium; they might be taken into the Society of Roman deities, -but they must be settled in temples placed _outside_ that boundary -line. But as early as the second Punic war this old rule began to be -broken, and in 205 B.C. even the mystic stone of the Magna Mater of the -Phrygians was brought within the pomerium and settled in the heart of -the city on the Palatine. And from that time onwards, whatever may have -been the notions about such things of the ignorant Latin population, -the old ideas assuredly vanished utterly from the minds of those who -were in charge of the State and its religion. - -Was there any transmutation of those ideas into religious beliefs which -might help State or individual in the changes and chances of this -mortal life? The answer to this question is a most emphatic negative. -What spiritual help they needed they sought and obtained in new and -foreign rites; their own solemn processions were sights to see and -nothing more. Lustratio never really, in pagan Italy, developed an -ethical meaning, as catharsis did to some extent in Greece.[128] And the -explanation of this is a simple one; at a very early stage the State -overpowered the individual, and the State religion obliterated all -the germs of an individual religious conscience. Even in the cult of -Jupiter, where, if anywhere, we might look for an ethical significance, -this was so; ‘we do not pray to Jupiter,’ says Cicero, ‘to make us -good, but to give us material benefits.’[129] - -But, meaningless as they were, the stately processions remained, and -could be watched with pride by the patriotic Roman all through the -period of the Empire. Then the Roman Church, with characteristic -adroitness, adapted them to its own ritual, and gave them a new -meaning; and the Catholic priest still leads his flock round the -fields with the prayers of the Litania major in Rogation week, not -only beating the bounds as we still do in Oxford on Ascension Day, but -begging a blessing on the crops and herds, and deprecating the anger of -the Almighty. - - OXFORD - - PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS - BY HORACE HART, M.A. - PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY - -FOOTNOTES: - -[115] _Aen._ i. 607 foll. Cp. _Aen._ iii. 429-- - - Praestat Trinacrii metas lustrare Pachyni - Cessantem, longos et circumflectere cursus: - -where the slow movement and circuitous course of a _lustratio_ are in -the poet’s mind. - -[116] Marquardt, _Staatsverwaltung_, iii. p. 175. Cp. Serv. _Aen._ iii. -67, and Virg. _Aen._ vi. 229. - -[117] Iron was taboo in the grove of Dea Dia: but the Fratres Arvales -had a system of _piacula_ enabling them to use it for pruning, &c., -when necessary.--Henzen, _Acta Fratr. Arv._ 22. - -[118] Serv. _Aen._ i. 136, x. 32, xi. 842. - -[119] Cato R. R. 139, 140; Henzen, _Acta Fratr. Arv._ 136 foll.: cp. -Ovid, _Fasti_ iv. 749 foll. - -[120] This is my own inference from the language of Cato in chapters 83 -and 141. When the cattle are in the forest, there is a special formula -of prayer for them: see ch. 83. The word _ager_ could hardly, I think, -be taken as including the woodland in which the flocks fed in summer; -and in May, when the _lustratio agri_ took place, they would be already -off the winter pasture. In the formula for this _lustratio_ (141) Cato -does include the _pastores_ and _pecua_; but they are not the most -conspicuous objects of the prayer, and I am inclined to think that they -are mentioned only as belonging to the farm, though not at the moment -within its sacred boundary. - -[121] Plin. _N. H._ xvii. 266, xxviii. 78. - -[122] _Relig. u. Kultus_, p. 130. - -[123] Varro, _L. L._ v. 143; Serv. _Aen._ v. 755 (from Cato); Plut. -_Romulus_ x. - -[124] Bücheler, _Umbrica_, p. 42 foll. - -[125] Bücheler, _Umbrica_, p. 84 foll. - -[126] Perhaps, too, the scramble for the horse’s head between two -divisions of the population was objectionable in their eyes. - -[127] _Relig. u. Kultus_, p. 131. On the same day there was a sacrifice -to that fortis dea, Nerio without doubt, who was in some unknown sense -the consort of Mars (Ovid, _Fasti_ iii. 849). - -[128] Farnell, _Evolution of Religion_, p. 136. - -[129] _De Nat. Deorum_, ii. 36. 82. - - - - -ERRATA - - -_The author of the first lecture, being out of England, could not -correct the proof; the following corrections should be made_:-- - - Page 10, line 11, _for_ produce in _read_ produce on - " 14, line 6, _for_ Cairoan _read_ cavern - " 16, line 7, _for_ palus _read_ palm - " 27, line 24, _for_ act _read_ art - " 28, lines 11, 13, _for_ by its ... feature - _read_ by ... features - " 40, line 1, _for_ in _read_ on - - -_Anthropology and the Classics._ - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - Illustrations have been moved so they do not break up paragraphs. - - Old or antiquated spellings have been preserved. - - Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations - in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered. - - Footnotes have been moved to the end of the lecture in which - they occur. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANTHROPOLOGY AND THE CLASSICS*** - - -******* This file should be named 53646-0.txt or 53646-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/6/4/53646 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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