Alike, then, in the immolation of human victims, in the offering of blood that flows from the living as well as the dying, in the offering of portions of the body, and even in the offering of hair, we see that funeral rites are paralleled by religious rites.* § 142. Is there no further way in which the good will of these invisible beings may be secured f If savages in general * Ab it win be at leait lotne yean before I come to the diyision of tbia work treating of Ceremonial Goremment, I may as well here briefly indicate the oondnsion concerning bodily mntilations in general, which mnltitndiuons fiicts onite in supporting. All mntilations begin with the taking of trophies tbink^ as the Aleutian Islanders do^ that the shades of the departed must be propitiated '^ as being able to give good and evil/' will they not ask this question and find an affirmative answer? When alive their relatives were pleased hj « applause; and now that^ though invisible^ they are wandering about, often within hearing, praise will still be pleasing to them. Hence another group of observances.
In his Native Bdces of the Pacific States, Bancroft quotes from an eyewitness the account of a funeral in which a man, carrying on his back the corpse of his wife to the burial cave, expresses his sense of loss by chanting her various virtues; and is followed by others of the tribe repeating his utterances. This practice, which is in large measure the natural expression of bereavement, is a prevalent practice into which there enters also the idea of propitiation. Of the Tupis, Southey tells us that at a funeral feast, " songs were sung in praise of the dead.*' Among the Lower Califomians, one of the honours paid to the departed is that " a quama, or priest, sings his praises "; and among the Ghippewas such praises are made permanent by placing in war — trophies carried home by conquerors to prove their prowess. When the conquered man is slain, and either left behind or devoured, the trophy is of course taken without regard to the destructiveness of the mutilation;, but when the conquered man is made a slave, the taking of a trophy must neither kill him nor seriously diminish his usefiilness. Mutilations of captives, thus at first incident on the taking of trophies, necessarily imply marks borne by the subjugated — signs of subordination. At first distinctive of those taken in war, such marks become signs of subordination in subjected tribes, and in those who are bom slaves. Having been established as badges of submission to a conqueror, and as badges of class-submission, they come into use as badges of submission to the dead, voluntarily inflicted to propitiate their ghosts: first only the ghost of ferocious departed chiefs, who were greatly feared, and thence spreading downwards, as all ceremonial observances do. In the end they become politico-ecclesiastical rites, carrying with them vague notions of submission and sacredness, after their special meanings are lost. And as happens in cases furnished by civiliased lif e^ these marks of subordination often grow into sources of pride, and acquire a decorative character. Ghishes are so made as to produce admired arrangements of scars, and tatooiug develops into ornamental patterns.
SACEED PLACES^ TEMPLES^ AND ALTARS; ETC. 293 afc the grave a post bearing '^ devices denoting tlie ntimber of times lie has been in battle^ and the number of scalps lie has taken'': mach as, among ourselves, praises are made permanent by inscriptions on tombstones. By partiallycivilized American peoples, funeral laudations were much more elaborated. Palacio tells us that in San Salvador " they chanted the lineage and deeds of the dead '' for four days and nights; and we learn from P. Simon, tl^at the Ghibchas ^' sang dirges and the great achievements of the deceased.'' So, too, in describing Peruvian obsequies, Gieza says they traverse the village " declaring in their songs, the deeds of the dead chief." Like observances occur in Polynesia. Ellis states that on the occasion of a death in Tahiti, there were ''elegiac ballads, prepared by the bards, and recited for the consolation of the family."
We trace the same practice in Africa. According to CailliS, the Mandingoes, at a burial, deliver a eulogium on the departed; and by the great historic race in Africa, the like usage was developed in a degree proportionate to the elaboration of their social life. Not only did the Egyptians sing commemorative hymns on the occasion of a king's death, but kindred praises were general at deaths. There were hired mourners to enumerate the deceased's virtues; and when an ancient Egyptian of rank was deposited in his tomb, the priest read from a papyrus an account of his good deeds, and the multitude joined in praising him — ^uttered something like responses.
In many cases eulogies do not end with the funeral. Heriot remarks of the Brazilian Indians, that they " sing in honour of their dead as often as they pass near their graves," So, too, we read in Bancroft that ''for a long time after a death, relatives repair daily at sunrise and sunset to the vicinity of the grave to sing songs of mourning and praise." Garcilasso tells us that in Peru, for a month after death, "they loudly shouted out the deeds of the late Ynca in war, and the good he had done to the provinces, * * * After the first month they did the same every fortnight, at each phase of the moon, and this went on the whole year/' and P^scott says that '^ bards and minstrels were appointed to chronicle his achievements^ and their songs continued to be rehearsed at high festivals/' The motive parallels the religions motive. By the Amaznln these praises of the dead are repeated for the avowed parpose of gaining favours or escaping punishments. Answering the reproaches of his brother's angry ghost, a Zulu says — " I do call on you, and laud you by your laud-giving names." Again, " if there is illness in the village, the eldest son lauds him [the father] with the laud-giving names which he gained when fighting with the enemy, and at the same time lauds all the other Amatongo " [ancestral ghosts]. Further, there is an ascribed love of praise. After a good harvest, for which the people suppose themselves indebted to the spirits, the chief of the village is prompted to an act of worship by dreaming that a spirit 49ays to him — '' How is it, when you have been given so much food, that you do not give thanks?" And then we have also proof that in their desire for praise, these ancestral ghosts are jealous ghosts. Canon Callaway shows us that when, by a diviner, it has been determined which ancestral ghost has inflicted disease, this ghost is singled out for eulogy. Here is the statement of a Zulu named Umpengula Mbanda: — " Therefore he is caUed upon first, and it is said, ' So-and-so, son of 8o-and-8o/ he being landed by his land-giving names; then they prooeed to his father, and he too is mentioned in connection with the disease: and BO in time they come to the last; and so there is an end, when it is said, ' Ye people of C^wala, who did so-and-so,' (his great deeds being mentioned), ' come all of yon.* " So that, beginning with eulogy of the dead as a funeral rite, passing to praises repeated for a time, then to praises both occasional and periodic that are established, we rise to the characteristics of religious praises. Moreover, the BACKED PLACES^ TEMPLES^ AKB ALTABS; ETC. 295 two are alike in the ascribed demand for them by supernatural beings; in the nature of them as narrating great deeds; and in the motive for them as a means of obtaining benefits or avoiding evils.
§ 143. Yet another parallelism follows in immediate connection with the foregoing. Along with praises of the dead there go prayers to them. Livingstone tells us that the Banyai '^ pray to departed chiefs and relatives/' and we learn from Reade that in Equatorial Africa^ in times of distress the people go to the forest and cry to the spirits of those who have passed away. The Amazulu^ whose motive for praises we have just seen^ join prayers with their sacrifices. One of them says: — ** The owner of the bullock having prayed to the Amatongo, saying, * There is your bollock, ye spirits of our people;* and as he prays naming grandfathers and grandmothers who are dead, saying, ' There is your food; I pray for a healthy body, that I may live comfortably; and thou, So-and-so, treat me with mercy; and thou, So-and-so,' mentioning by name all of their family who are dead. " Similarly with the Yeddahs. They think themselves guarded by the spirits of '' their ancestors and their children •" and " in every calamity^ in every want, they call on them for aid." They " call on their deceased ancestors by name. ' Oome, and partake of this I Give us maintenance, as you did when living I ' " According to Schoolcraft, a Dakotah, when going hunting, utters the prayer — " Spirits or ghosts, have mercy on me, and show me where I can find a deer.'' Turner, describing the Yateans, who '' worship the spirits of their ancestors," says '' they pray to them over the kavabowl, for health and prosperity;" and, describing the adjacent New Caledonians, he says that, sacrificing firstfruits to their dead and deified chiefs, the living chief prays aloud thus — " Compassionate &ther, here is some food for you; eat it; be kind to us on account of it."
Only in the supposed origin or nature of the supernatural being prayed to, do prayers like these differ &om 296 THE DATA OF S0CI0L06T.
the prayers of more civilized ^races to their diyinities. In the Iliad, Chryses, Apollo^s priest, is represented as saying — '' 0 Sminthius, if ever I have roofed thy graceful temple, or if, moreover, at any time I have burned to thee the fat thighs of bulls or of goats, accomplish this entreaty for me. Let the Grreeks pay for my tears, by thy arrows/' So, too, Bameses, calling upon Ammonfor aid in battle, reminds him of the 30,000 bulls he has sacrificed to him. This request for help in return for good things given, is in essentials perfectly like the requests above quoted. Between the Trojan or Egyptian, and the Zulu or New Caledonian, there is no difference in feeling or idea.
Of course, along with mental evolution there go modifications in the prayers, as in the conceptions associated with them. The Hebrew prophets, who in later times represent the Hebrew Grod as not delighting in the odour of offerings, have evidently advanced far enough to abandon that gross kind of religious bribery which asks material benefits proportionate to material sacrifices; though it is manifest from the denunciations of these prophets, that the Hebrew people at large had not dropped the primitive beliefs and practices. fiut while the notion of the partially civilized is not the same in form as the notion of the uncivilized, it is the same in essence. The mediadval knight who, praying for aid to the Virgin or to a saint, promises a chapel if he is delivered, adopts the same policy as does the savage who bargains with the ancestral ghost to exchange protection for provision.
§ 144. There are sundry other parallelisms which I cannot spare space to exhibit in full. A parapraph only can be devoted to each.
Livingstone tells us that the East Africans believe " the spirits of the departed know what those they have left behind them are doing, and are pleased or not, according as their deeds are good or evil;'' and we learn from Schoolcraft that during the death-lament the Dakotahs ad- SACRED PliACES^ TEMPLKS^ AND ALTABS; ETC. 29 1 dress the spirit of the departed promising to behave well. Here reprobation of the ancestral ghost is feared^ just as among civilized races^ divine reprobation is feared; and approval is sought with kindred motives.
There is evidence, too, of repentance caused by supposed ghostly reprobation. Concerning the ideas and feelings of the Turkomans, Vdmb^ry tells us that '' no greater punishment can befal a living man, than to be accused before the shade of his departed father or ancestor. This is done by planting a lance upon the top of the grave. * * * No sooner did Oraz perceive the lance fixed upon the.high Yo^ka of his grandfather, when in the silence of the following night he led the horse back to the tent of the MoUah and tied it to its former place. This act of restitution, as he himself told me, will pain him for a long time to come. But it is better to lie in the black earth than to have disturbed the repose of one's ancestors."
We read in Morgan's account of the Iroquois that " a prominent part of the ceremonial mourning for Sachems consisted in the repetition of their ancient laws.'' In this we trace an analogy to the repetition of divine injunctions as a religious observance.
The lighting of a fire at the grave for the benefit of the deceased, we found to be a not infrequent funeral rite; and in some cases the fire was kept alight, or re-lighted, for a long period. Joining these facts with the fact that lamps were kept burning in Egyptian tombs, as also in the sepulchres of the Romans, we see that maintenance of a sacred fire in a temple again exemplifies the development of funeral rites into religious rites.
Expressions of grief spontaneously arising from those who have lost a relative, naturally characterize funerals, and grow into funeral rites: sometimes, in advanced societies, being swollen by the cries of hired mourners. It was thus with the ancient Egyptians; and with the ancient Egyptians wailing was also a religious rite. Once a year.
they ofiEered first-fruits on the altar of Isis with ** doleful lamentatioiis/' At Busiris^ which was the alleged burialplace of Osiris, there was an annaal festival at which the yotaries having fasted and pnt on mourning dresses, uttered a lament round a bumt-oSering: the death of Osiris being the subject of the lament. Adherents to the theory of nature-myths of course find a symbolic meaning for this observance; but to others it will appear veiy significant that this further likeness between funeral rites and religious rites, occurred among people who sacrificed so elaborately to their ordinary dead, and who were characterized by the unparalleled persistence of their customs.
Along with dislike to disclosure of his name, which the savage thinks will put him in the power of one who learns it, there habitually goes dislike to name the dead: the exercise of the implied power over them, being supposed to excite their anger. So strong is this feeling among the Malagasy, that Drury says ''they account it a crime to mention them [the dead] by the names they had when living.^' Similarly, by various semi-civilized races, the calling of deities by their true names has been interdicted or considered improper. It is so among the Hindus, who avoid uttering the sacred name Om; it was so with the Hebrews, whose pronunciation of the word Jehovah is not known for this reason; and Herodotus carefully avoids naming Osiris.
In Kaffir-land the grave of a chief is an asylum; and in Mariner's account of the Tonga Islands we read that the cemeteries where the great chiefs are buried, have such sacredness that enemies meeting there must regard each other as friends. In this we have a beginning of the right of sanctuary, attaching to the temples of deities among more advanced peoples.
Visiting the grave to take food, to repeat praises, to ask aid, implies a journey; and this journey, short if the grave is near, becomes, if the grave is &r ofP, a pilgrimage. That pilgrimages thoB ariBe, proof is given by Yamb^ry in describing certain predatory tribes of Torkomans, who, regarding as a martyr one of tbeir number who is killed, adorn his gpraye and '* make pilgrimages to the holy place, where they implore with tears of contrition the intercession of the canonised robber/' Filial piety, taking a more expanded form as the ancestral ghost comes to be dominated by the ghost of the distingnished man, the pilgrimage to a relation's bnrial-place passes into the religions pilgrimage. Throughout, a gprare continues to be the terminus: the city where Mahomet was buried as well as that in which he was bom; the tomb of Baha-ed-din, regarded as a second Mahomet; the tope containing relics of Buddha; the sepulchre of Christ. Moreover, the Canterbury pilgrimage reminds us that the tombs of saints have been, and still continue to be on the Continenty the goals of pilgrimages among Christians.
One further analogy must be added. In some cases parts of the dead are swallowed by the living, who seek thus to inspire themselves with the good qualities of the dead; and we saw (§ 133) that the dead are supposed to be honoured by this act. Hie implied notion was shown to be associated with the further notion, that the nature of another being, inhering in all firagments of his body, inheres, too, in the unconsumed part of anything incorporated with his body; so that an operation wrought on the remnants of his food becomes an operation wrought on the food swallowed, and therefore on the swallower. Yet another implication is that between those who swallow different parts of the same food some community of nature is established. Hence such beliefs as that ascribed by Bastian to some negroes, who think that " on eating and drinking consecrated food they eat and drink the god himself" — such god being an ancestor, who has taken his share. Yarious ceremonies among savages are prompted by this conception; as, for instance, the choosing a totem. Among the Mosquito Indians^ 'Hhe manner of obtaining this guardian was to proceed to some secluded spot and offer up a sacrifice: with the beast or bird which thereupon appeared^ in dream or in reality, a compact for life was made, by drawing blood from various parts of the body/' This blood, supposed to be taken by the chosen animal, connected the two, and the animaVs " life became so bound up with their own that the death of one involved that of the other/' * And now mark that in these same regions this idea re-appears as a religious observance. Sahagun and Herrera describe a ceremony of the Aztecs called '^ eating the god/' Mendieta, describing this ceremony, says — '' they had also a sort of eucharist. * * * They made a sort of small idols of seeds * * * and ate them as the body or memory of their gods/' As the seeds'were cemented partly by the blood of sacrificed boys; as their gods were cannibal gods; as Huitzilopochtli, whose worship included this rite, was the god to whom human sacrifices were most extensive; it is dear that the aim was to establisli community with him by taking blood in common. So that what, among certain of these allied American races, was a funeral rite by which survivors sought to inspire themselves with the virtues of the dead, and to bind themselves to the ghost, became, among the more civilized, modified into an observance implying inspiration by, and fealty to, one of their deities.
• § 145. Thus, evidence abundant in amount and varied in kind, justifies the statement made at the close of the last * We here get a duo to the origin of various strange ceremonies by which men bind themselves to one another. Michelet* in his Origines du Droit Francis, writes — " Boire le sang Tun de I'autre, c'^tait pour ainsi dire secure mdme chair. Ce symbole si expressif se tronve chez un grand nombre de peoples;" and he gives instances from various ancient races. But» as we here see, this practice is not originally adopted as a symbol (no practices begin as symbols), but is prompted by the belief that a community of nature is thus established, and a community of power over one another. Obviously the cxshango of names between savages results from an allied belief.
SACRED PLACES^ TEMPLES, AND ALTARS; ETC. SOl chapter. Ifc was pointed out that the souls of the dead, conceived by savages sometimes as beneficent agents bat chiefly as the causes of evils, might be variously dealt with — ^might be deceived, resisted, expelled, or might be treated in ways likely to secure good will and mitigate anger. It was asserted that from this last policy all religious observances take their rise. We have seen how they do so.
The original sacred locality, is the locality where the dead are, and which their ghosts are supposed to frequent; the sheltering cave, or house, or other chamber for the dead, becomes the sacred chamber or temple; and that on which offerings for the dead are placed, becomes the sacred support for offerings — ^the altar. Food and drink and other things laid for the dead, grow into sacrifices and libations to the gods; while immolations of victims, bloodofferings, mutilations, cuttings-off of hair, originally occurring at the grave, occur afterwards before idols and as marks of fealty to a deity. Fasting as a funeral rite, passes into fasting as a religious rite; and lamentations, too, occur under both forms. Praises of the dead, chanted at the burial and afterwards, and recurring at festivals, pass into praises forming parts of religious worship; and prayers made to the dead for aid, for blessing, for protection, become prayers made to divinities for like advantages. Ancestral ghosts supposed to cause diseases, as gods send pestilences, are similarly propitiated by special sacrifices: the ascribed motives of ghosts and gods being the same in kind, and the modes of appealing to those motives the same. The parallelism runs out into various details. There is oversight of conduct by ghosts as there is by deities; there are promises of good behaviour to both; there is penitence before the one as before the other. There is a repetition of injunctions given by the dead, as there is a repetition of divine injunctions. There is a maintenance of fires at graves and in sepulchral chambers, as there is in temples. Burial-places are sometimes, like temples, used as places of refuge. A 302 THB DATA OF SOCIOLOQY.
secresy ib maintained respecting the name of the dead, as in many cases respecting the name of a god. There are pilgrimages to the graves of relatives^ and pilgrimages to the graves of supposed divine persons. And in America^ certain lesscivilized races adopted a method of binding living with dead by seeking to participate in the qualities of the ghost^ which a more civilized American race paralleled by a method of binding to a deity through a kindred ceremony for estabUshing community of nature.
Can so many and such varied similarities have arisen in the absence of genetic relationship f Suppose the two sets of phenomena unconnected — suppose primitive men had^ as some thinks the consciousness of a Universal Power whence they and all other things proceeded. What probability would there be that towards such a Power they would spontaneously perform an act like that performed by them to the dead body of a fellow savage f And if one such community would not be probable^ what would be the probability of two such acts in common? what the probability of fourf what of the score communities above specified? In the absence of causal relation the probability against such a correspondence would be almost infinity to one.
Again^ if the two sets of rites have a common root, we may see how they come to coexist under forms differing only in their degrees of elaboration. But otherwise, how does it happen that in sundry societies the two sets of rites have been, or are, simultaneously observed in like ways? In Egypt at funerals, and afterwards in tombs, the dead were lauded and sacrified to as their deities were lauded and sacrificed to. Every day in Mexico there were burial-oblations of food and drink, slayings of servants, offerings of flowers, just as there were daily observances of like kinds to their gods; and representative images of the dead were preserved and worshipped as were the images of the gods. Peruvians poured out human blood on sepulchres and gave it to idols; sacrificed victims to the deceased chief and victims to the SACRED PIECES, TSMPLBS^ AUD ALTABS; ETC. 303 deity; cut off their hair for the dead and presented their hair to the Son; praised and prayed to embalmed bodies^ as they praised and prayed to divinities; and made obeisances to the one as to the other. If between the father regarded as ancestor and the father regarded as divinity there is no connection^ this community of observances is inexplicable.
Nor is this all. Were there no such origination of religious rites out of funeral rites^ it would be impossible to understand the genesis of ceremonies apparently so absurd. How could men possibly have come to think^ as did the Mexicans^ that a stone bowl full of human blood would please the Sun? or that the Sun would be pleased by burning incense^ as the Egyptians thought? In what imaginable way were the Peruvians led to believe that the Sun was propitiated by blowing towards it hairs from their eye-brows; or why did they suppose that by doing the like towards the sea they would mitigate its anger? From what antecedent did there result so strange an idea as that of the Santals^ who, worshipping '^the Great Mountain/' sacrifice to it beasts, flowers, and fruit? Or why should one ancient people think to please the Creator by placing on an altar bread, wine, and incense; which were the very things placed by an adjacent ancient people on altars before their mummies f The assumption that the primitive man gratuitously acts in an irrational way, is quite inadmissible. But if these religious rites, seemingly so irrational, arose from funeral rites, we no longer need wonder at their irrelevance.
We have, then, numerous lines of evidence which, converging to a focus, are by themselves enough to dissipate any doubt respecting tHs natural genesis of rehgious observances. Traceable as it is in so many ways, the development of funeral rites into worship of the dead, and eventually into religious worship, becomes dear. We shall find that it becomes still clearer on contemplating other facts under other aspects.
CHAPTER XX.
ANCESTOR- WORSHIP IN GENERAL.
§ 146. From various parts of the worid, through witnesses of different nations and divergent beliefs, we have evidence that there exist tribes who are either wholly without ideas of sapematural beings, or whose ideas of them are extremely vague. " When Father Junipero Serra established the Mission of Dolores in 1776, the shores of San Francisco Bay were thickly populated by the Ahwashtees, Ohlones, Altahmos, Romanons, Tuolomos, and other tribes. The good Father found the field unoccupied, for, in the vocabulary of these people, there is found no word for god, angel, or devil; they held no theory of origin or destiny." This testimony, which Bancroft cites respecting the Indians of California, corresponds with the testimonies of old Spanish writers respecting some South American peoples. Garcilasso says that ^Hhe Ghirihuanas and the natives of the Gape de Pasau * * * had no inclination to worship anything high or low, neither from interested motives nor from fear;" Balboa mentions tribes without any religion as having been met with by Ynca Yupanqui; and Avendano asserts that in his time the Antis had no worship whatever. Many kindred instances are given by Sir John Lubbock, and further ones will be found in Mr. Tyler's Primitive OuUure. But I agree with Mr. Tylor that the evidence habitually implies some notion, however wavering and inconsistent, of a reyiying other-self. Where this has not become a definite belief^ the substance of a belief is shown by the funeral rites and hj the fear of the dead.
Leaving unsettled the question whether there are men in whom dreams have not generated the notion of a wandering double^ and the sequent notion that at death the wandering double has gone far away^ it is unquestionably true that the first traceable conception of a supernatural being is the conception of a ghost. This exists where no other idea of the i^me order exists; and this exists where multitudinous other ideas of the same order exist.
That belief in a surviving duplicate is produced among the savage^ and is perpetually reproduced among the civilized^ is a fact of great significance. Even alone it is almost enough to show that the ghost is the primitive type of supernatural being. Whatever is common to men's minds in all stages must be deeper down in thought than whatever is peculiar to men's minds in higher stages; and if the later product admits of being reached by modification and expansion of the earlier product^ the implication is that it has been so reached. Becognizing this implication^ we shall see how fully the facts now to be contemplated justify acceptance of it.
§ 147. As the notion of a ghost grows from that first vagueness and variableness indicated above^ into a definite and avowed faith^ there naturally arise the desire and the endeavour to propitiate the ghost. Hence, almost as widely spread as the belief in ghosts, may be looked for a more or less developed ancestor-worship. This we find.
Already in preceding chapters, and especially in the last, abundant indirect evidence has been given that not only in uncivilized societies constituted by races quite remote from one another in type, does ancestor-worship prevail; but that also in unallied civilized societies it exists, or has existed. Here let me add, in brief form, the direct evidence.
Where the levels of mental nature and social progress are X 306 THB DATA OF SOCIOLOQT.
lowest, we usually find, along with an absence of religioas ideas generally, an absence of, or very slight deyelopment of, ancestor-worship. A typical case is that of the Ju^ngs, a wild tribe of Bengal, who, described as having no word for god, no idea of a future state, no religious ceremonies, are also said to " have no notion of the worship of ancestors/^ Cook, telling us what the Fuegians were before contact with Europeans had introduced foreign ideas, said there were no appearances of religion among them; and we are not told by him or others that they were ancestorworshippers. So far as the scanty evidence may be trusted, the like seems to be the case with the Andamanese. The Australians, whose intercourse with the civilized has doubtless affected their conceptions, but who have clearly an aboriginal belief in ghosts, show us not much persistence in ghost-propitiation. While believing in the maleficent and beneficent agency of ghosts, the Tasmanians seemingly made but few attempts to gain their good will. Among the Yeddahs, indeed, though extremely low, an active if simple ancestor- worship is the sole, or almost the sole, religion; but here, contact with the more civilized Cingalese has probably been a factor.
When, however, instead of wandering groups who continually leave far behind the places where their members lie buried, we come to settled groups whose burial* places are in their midst, and among whom development of funeral rites is thus made possible, we find that ghostpropitiation becomes an established practice. All varieties of men show us this. Taking first the Negrito races, we read that " with the Pijians, as soon as beloved parents expire, they take their place amongst the family gods. Bures, or temples, are erected to their memory,'' etc., etc. Similarly of the Tannese, Turner says— ''their general name for gods seems to be Arembaj that means a dead man - And the like is told us of other New Galedoman peoples. With the more advanced Malayo- AKCEST0B-W0B8HIF IN QENERMi. 307 Polynesians it is the same; sfkre tliat with simple ancestor-worship there usnally coexists a more dereloped worship of remoter ancestors^ who have become deities. Sacrificing to their gods^ the Tahitians also sacrifice to the spirits of departed chiefs and relatives. Kindred statements are made respecting the Sandwich Islanders^ the Samoans^ the Malagasy, and the Sumatrans; of which last people Marsden tells us that though " they neither worship god, devil, nor idol,'* yet that they ''venerate almost to the point of worshipping the tombs and mcmes of their deceased ancestors/* The like holds in Africa. Livingstone