the qualities characteristic of a man. Thus, among the Larakia, while the young men are in retreat in the forest, their godfathers and guardians give them violent blows at any instant, without warning and without cause.2 Among the Urabunna, at a certain time, the novice is stretched out on the ground, his face against the earth. All the men present beat him rudely ; then they make four or eight gashes on his back, arranged on each side of the dorsal spine and one on the meridial line of the nape of his neck.3 Among the Arunta, the first rite of the initiation consists in tossing the subject in a blanket; the men throw him into the air and catch him when he comes down, to throw him up again.4 In the same tribe, at the close of this long series of ceremonies, the young man lies down on a bed of leaves under which they have placed
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live coals; he remains there, immobile in the midst of the heat and suffocating smoke.1 A similar rite is observed among the Urabunna ; but in addition, while the patient is in this painful situation, they beat him on the back.2 In a general way, all the exercises to which he is submitted have this same character to such an extent that: when he is allowed to re-enter the ordinary life, he has a pitiful aspect and appears half stupefied.3 It is true that all these practices are frequently represented as ordeals destined to prove the value of the neophyte and to show whether he is worthy of being admitted into the religious society or not.4 But in reality, the probational function of the rite is only another aspect of its efficacy. For the fact that it has been undergone is proved by its producing its effect, that is to say, by its conferring the qualities which are the original reason for its existence.
In other cases, these ritual cruelties are executed, not on the organism as a whole, but on a particular organ or tissue, whose vitality it is their object to stimulate. Thus, among the Arunta, the Warramunga and many other tribes,5 at a certain moment in the initiation, certain persons are charged with biting the novice severely in the scalp. This operation is so painful that the patient can hardly support it without uttering cries. Its object is to make the hair grow.6 The same treatment is applied to make the beard grow. The rite of pulling out hairs, which Howitt mentions in other tribes, seems to have the same reason for existence.7 According to Eyimann, the men and women of the Arunta and the Kaitish make small wounds on their arms with sticks red with fire, in order to become skilful in making fire or to acquire the strength necessary for carrying heavy loads of wood.8 According to this same observer, the Warramunga girls amputate the second and third joints of the index finger on one hand, thinking that the finger thus becomes better fitted for finding yams.9
It is not impossible that the extraction of teeth was sometimes destined to produce effects of this sort. In any case, it is certain that the cruel rites of circumcision and subincision have the
2Nor. Tr., pp. 331 f.
3Ibid.. p. 335. A similar practice will be found among the Dieri (Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp. 658 ff.).
4Spencer and Gillen, Nat. Tr., pp. 214 ff.—From this example we see that the rites of initiation sometimes have all the characteristics of hazing. In fact, hazing is a real social institution which arises spontaneously every time that two groups, inequal in their moral and social situation, come into intimate contact. In this case, the one considering itself superior to the other resists the intrusion of the new-comers ; it reacts against them is such a way as to make them aware of the superiority it feels. This reaction, which is produced automatically and which takes the form of more or less grave cruelties quite naturally, is also destined to shape the individuals for their new existence and assimilate them into their new environment. So it is a sort of initiation. Thus it is explained how the initiation, on its side, takes the form of hazing. It is because the group of old men is superior in religious and moral dignity to that of the young men, and yet the first must assimilate the second. So all the conditions for hazing are given.
1Spencer and Gillen, Nat.
2Howitt, Nat..Tr., p. 372.
3Ibid., p. 335.
4Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp Tr., p. 675. 569, 604.
5Spencer and Gillen, Nat. Tr.. p. 251 ; Nor. Tr.. 341, 352.
6Among the Warramunga, the operation must be made by persons favoured with beautiful hair.
7Howitt, Nat. Tr.. p. 675 ; this concerns the tribes on the lower Darling.
8Eyimann, op. cit; p. 212.
9Ibid.
object of conferring particular powers on the genital organs. In fact, the young man is not allowed to marry until after he has undergone them ; so he owes them special virtues. What makes
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this initiation sui generis indispensable is that in all inferior societies, the union of the sexes is marked with a religious character. It is believed to put redoubtable forces into play which a man cannot approach without danger, until after he has acquired the necessary immunity, by ritual processes:1 for this, a whole series of positive and negative practices is used, of which circumcision and subincision are the forerunners. By painfully mutilating an organ, a sacred character is given to it, since by that act, it is put into shape for resisting the equally sacred forces which it could not meet otherwise.
At the beginning of this work, we said that all the essential elements of religious thought and life ought to be found, at least in germ, in the most primitive religions : the preceding facts confirm this assertion. If there is any one belief which is believed to be peculiar to the most recent and idealistic religions, it is the one attributing a sanctifying power to sorrow. Now this same belief is at the basis of the rites which have just been observed. Of course, it is understood differently at the different moments of history when it is studied. For the Christian, it acts especially upon the soul : it purges it, ennobles it, spiritualizes it. For the Australian, it is the body over which it is efficient: it increases its vital energies ; it makes its beard and hair grow ; it toughens its members. But in both cases the principle is the same. In both it is admitted that suffering creates exceptional strength. And this belief is not without foundation. In fact, it is by the way in which he braves suffering that the greatness of a man is best manifested. He never rises above himself with more brilliancy than when he subdues his own nature to the point of making it follow a way contrary to the one it would spontaneously take. By this, he distinguishes himself from all the other creatures who follow blindly wherever pleasure calls them ; by this, he makes a place apart for himself in the world. Suffering is the sign that certain of the bonds attaching him to his profane environment are broken; so it testifies that be is partially freed from this environment, and, consequently, it is justly considered the instrument of deliverance. So he who is thus delivered is not the victim of a pure illusion when he believes himself invested with a sort of mastery over things : he really has raised himself above them, by the very act of renouncing them; he is stronger than nature, because he makes it subside.
Moreover, it is by no means true that this virtue has only an
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aesthetic value : the whole religious life supposes it. Sacrifices and privations do not come without privations which cost the worshipper dear. Even if the rites do not demand material gifts from him, they require his time and his strength. In order to serve his gods, he must forget himself ; to make for them a fitting place in his own life, he must sacrifice his profane interests. The positive cult is possible only when a man is trained to renouncement, to abnegation, to detachment from self, and consequently to suffering. It is necessary that he have no dread of them : he cannot even fulfil his duties joyfully unless he loves them to some extent. But for that, it is necessary that he train himself, and it is to this that the ascetic practices tend. So the suffering which they impose is not arbitrary and sterile cruelty ; it is a necessary school, where men form and temper themselves, and acquire the qualities of disinterestedness and endurance without which there would be no religion. If this result is to be obtained, it is even a good thing that the ascetic ideal be incarnated eminently in certain persons, whose speciality, so to speak, it is to represent, almost with excess, this aspect of the ritual life ; for they are like so many living models, inciting to effort. Such is the historic role of the great ascetics. When their deeds and acts are analysed in detail, one asks himself what useful end they can have. He is struck by the fact that there is something excessive in the disdain they profess for all that ordinarily impassions men. But these exaggerations are necessary to sustain among the believers a sufficient disgust for an easy life and common pleasures. It is necessary that an elite put the end too high, if the crowd is not to put it too low. It is necessary that some
1 References on this question will be found in our memoir on La Prohibition de Г incest et sts origines (Annie Social., I, pp. i ff.), and Crawley, The Mystic Rose. PP. 37
exaggerate, if the average is to remain at a fitting level.
But asceticism does not serve religious ends only. Here, as elsewhere, religious interests are only the symbolic form of social and moral interests. The ideal beings to whom the cults are addressed are not che only ones who demand of their followers a certain disdain for suffering : society itself is possible only at this price. Though exalting the strength of man, it is frequently rude to individuals ; it necessarily demands perpetual sacrifices from them ; it is constantly doing violence to our natural appetites, just because it raises us above ourselves. If we are going to fulfil our duties towards it, then we must be prepared to do violence to our instincts sometimes and to ascend the decline of nature when it is necessary. So there is an asceticism which, being inherent in all social life, is destined to survive all the mythologies and all the dogmas; it is an integral part of all human culture. At bottom, this is the asceticism which is the
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reason for the existence of and the justification of that which has been taught by the religions of all times.
III
Having determined what the system of interdicts consists in and what its positive and negative functions are, we must now seek the causes which have given it birth.
In one sense, it is logically implied in the very notion of sacred-ness. All that is sacred is the object of respect, and every sentiment of respect is translated, in him who feels it, by movements of inhibition. In fact, a respected being is always expressed in the consciousness by a representation which, owing to the emotion it inspires, is charged with a high mental energy ; consequently, it is armed in such a way as to reject to a distance every other representation which denies it in whole or in part. Now the sacred world and the profane world are antagonistic to each other. They correspond to two forms of life which mutually exclude one another, or which at least cannot be lived at the same time with the same intensity. We cannot give ourselves up entirely to the ideal beings to whom the cult is addressed and also to ourselves and our own interests at the same time ; we cannot devote ourselves entirely to the group and entirely to our own egoism at once. Here there are two systems of conscious states which are directed and which direct our conduct towards opposite poles. So the one having the greater power of action should tend to exclude the other from the consciousness. When we think of holy things, the idea of a profane object cannot enter the mind without encountering grave resistance ; something within us opposes itself to its installation. This is because the representation of a sacred thing does not tolerate neighbours. But this psychic antagonism and this mutual exclusion of ideas should naturally result in the exclusion of the corresponding things. If the ideas are not to coexist, the things must not touch each other or have any sort of relations. This is the very principle of the interdict.
Moreover, the world of sacred things is, by definition, a world ( apart. Since it is opposed to the profane world by all the characteristics we have mentioned, it must be treated in its own peculiar way : it would be a misunderstanding of its nature and a confusion of it with something that it is not, to make use of the gestures, language and attitudes which we employ in our relations with ordinary things, when we have to do with the things that compose it. We may handle the former freely we speak freely to vulgar beings; so we do not touch the sacred beings,
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or we touch them only with reserve; we do not speak in their presence, or we do not speak the common language there. All that is used in our commerce with the one must be excluded from our commerce with the other.
But if this explanation is not inexact, it is, nevertheless, insufficient. In fact, there are many beings which are the objects of respect without being protected by systems of rigorous interdictions such as those we have just described. Of course there is a general tendency of the mind to localize different things in different places, especially when they are incompatible with each other. But the profane environment and the sacred one are not merely distinct, but they are also closed to one another ; between them there is an abyss. So there ought to be some particular
reason in the nature of sacred things, which causes this exceptional isolation and mutual exclusion. And, in fact, by a sort of contradiction, the sacred world is inclined, as it were, to spread itself into this same profane world which it excludes elsewhere : at the same time that it repels it, it tends to flow into it as soon as it approaches. This is why it is necessary to keep them at a distance from one another and to create a sort of vacuum between them.
What makes these precautions necessary is the extraordinary contagiousness of a sacred character. Far from being attached to the things which are marked with it, it is endowed with a sort of elusiveness. Even the most superficial or roundabout contact is sufficient to enable it to spread from one object to another. Religious forces are represented in the mind in such a way that they always seem ready to escape from the points where they reside and to enter everything passing within their range. The nanja tree where the spirit of an ancestor lives is sacred for the individual who considers himself the reincarnation of this ancestor. But every bird which alights upon this tree participates in this same nature: it is also forbidden to touch it.1 We have already had occasion to show how simple contact with a churinga is enough to sanctify men and things;2 it is also upon this principle of the contagiousness of sacredness that all the rites of consecration repose. The sanctity of the churinga is so great that its action is even felt at a distance. It will be remembered how this extends not only to the cave where they are kept, but also to the whole surrounding district, to the animals who take refuge there, whom it is forbidden to kill, and to the plants which grow there, which must not be touched.3 A snake totem has its centre at a place where there
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is a water-hole. The sacred character of the totem is communicated to this place, to the water-hole and even to the water itself, which is forbidden to all the members of the totemic group.1 The initiate lives in an atmosphere charged with religiousness, and it is as though he were impregnated with it himself.2 Consequently all that he possesses and all that he touches is forbidden to the women, and withdrawn from their contact, even down to the bird he has struck with his stick, the kangaroo he has pierced with his lance or the fish which has bit on his hook.3 But, on the other hand, the rites to which he is submitted and the things which have a part in them have a sanctity superior to his own : this sanctity is contagiously transmitted to everything which evokes the idea of one or the other. The tooth which has been knocked out of him is considered very holy.4 For this reason, he may not eat animals with prominent teeth, because they make him think of his own lost tooth. The ceremonies of the Kuringal terminate with a ritual washing;5 aquatic birds are forbidden to the neophyte because they make him think of this rite. Animals that climb to the tops of trees are equally sacred for him, because they are too near to Daramulun, the god of the initiation, who lives in heaven.6 The soul of a dead man is a sacred thing: we have already seen how this same property passes to the corpse in which the soul resided, to the spot where this is buried, to the camp in which he lived when alive, and which is either destroyed or quitted, to the name he bore, to his wife and to his relations.7 They, too, are invested, as it were, with a sacred character; consequently, men keep at a distance from them ; they do not treat them as mere profane
1Spencer and Gillen, Nat. Tr: p. 133.
2See above, p. 121.
3Spencer and Gillen. Nat. Tr; pp. 134 i-; Strehlow, I, p. 78.
1Spencer and Gillen, Nor. Tr., pp. 167, 299.
2In addition to the ascetic rites of which we have spoken, there are some positive ones whose object is to charge, or,
as Howitt says, to saturate the initiate with religiousness (Howitt, Nat. Tr., p. 535). It is true that instead of religiousness, Howitt speaks of magic powers, but as we know, for the majority of the ethnologists, this word merely signifies religious virtues of an impersonal nature.
3Howitt, ibid., pp. 674 f.
4Spencer and Gillen, Nat. Tr.. p. 454. Cf. Howitt, Nat. Tr., p. 561.
5Howitt, Nat. Tr., p. 557.
6Ibid.. p. 560.
7See above, pp. 303, 306. Cf. Spencer and Gillen, Nat. Tr., p. 498 ; Nor. Tr., pp. 506, 507, 518 f.. 526 ; Howitt, Nat. Tr., p. 449, 461, 469 ; Mathews, in J. of R.S. of N.S. Wales. XXXVIII, p. 274 ; Schuize, loc. cit., p. 231 ; Wyatt, Adelaide and Encounter Bay Tribes, in Woods, pp. 165, 198.
beings. In the societies observed by Dawson, their names, like that of the dead man, cannot be pronounced during the period of mourning.8 Certain animals which he ate may also be prohibited.9 This contagiousness of sacredness is too well known a
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phenomenon1 to require any proof of its existence from numerous examples ; we only wish to show that it is as true in totemism as in the more advanced religions. When once established, it quickly explains the extreme rigour of the interdicts separating the sacred from the profane. Since, in virtue of this extraordinary power of expansion, the slightest contact, the least proximity, either material or simply moral, suffices to draw religious forces out of their domain, and since, on the other hand, they cannot leave it without contradicting their nature, a whole system of measures is indispensable for maintaining the two worlds at a respectful distance from one another. This is why it is forbidden to the profane, not only to touch, but even to see or hear that which is sacred, and why these two sorts of life cannot be mixed in their consciousnesses. Precautions are necessary to keep them apart because, though opposing one another, they tend to confuse themselves into one another.
When we understand the multiplicity of these interdicts we also understand the way in which they operate and the sanctions which are attached to them. Owing to the contagiousness inherent in all that is sacred, a profane being cannot violate an interdict without having the religious force, to which he has unduly approached, extend itself over him and establish its empire over him. But as there is an antagonism between them, he becomes dependent upon a hostile power, whose hostility cannot fail to manifest itself in the form of violent reactions which tend to destroy him. This is why sickness or death are considered the natural consequences of every transgression of this sort ; and they are consequences which are believed to come by themselves, with a sort of physical necessity. The guilty man feels himself attacked by a force which dominates
.him and against which he is powerless. Has he eaten the totemic animal ? Then he feels it penetrating him and gnawing at his vitals; he lies down on the ground and awaits death.2 Every profanation implies a consecration, but one which is dreadful, both for the subject consecrated and for those who approach him. It is the consequences of this consecration which sanction, in part, the interdict.3
It should be noticed that this explanation of the interdicts [321]
does not depend upon the variable symbols by the aid of which religious forces are conceived. It matters little whether these are conceived as anonymous and impersonal energies or figured as personalities endowed with consciousness and feeling. In the former case, of course, they are believed to react against profaning transgressions in an automatic and unconscious manner, while in the latter case, they are thought to obey passionate movements determined by the offence resented. But at bottom, these two conceptions, which, moreover, have the same practical effect, only express one and the same psychic mechanism in two different languages. The basis of both is the antagonism of the sacred and the profane, combined with the remarkable aptitude of the former for spreading over to the latter; now this antagonism and this contagiousness act in the same way, whether the sacred character is attributed to blind forces or to conscious ones. Thus, so far is it from being true that the real religious life commences only where there are mythical personalities, that we see that in this case the rite remains the same, whether the religious beings are personified or not. This is a statement which we shall have occasion to repeat in each of the chapters which
8Australian Aborigines, p. 42.
9Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp. 470-471.
1On this question, see Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, pp. 152 ft., 446, 481 ; Frazer, art. Taboo in Encyc. Brit., Jevons, Introduction to the History of Religions, pp. 59 f. ; Crawley, Mystic Rose, ch. ii—ix ; Van Gennep, Tabou et Totemisme a Madagascar, ch. iii.
2See references above, p. 128, n. r. Cf. Nor. Tr., pp. 323, 324; Nat.Tr., p. 168 ; Taplin, The Narrinyeri, p. 16 ; Roth, North Queensland Ethnography. Bull. 10, Records of Austral. Museum, VII, p. 76.
3It is to be remembered that when it is a religious interdict that has been violated, these sanctions are not the only ones ; there is also a real punishment or a stigma of opinion.