First, Sir J. Lubbock says: “It has been asserted over and over again that there is no race of man so degraded as to be entirely without a religion—without some idea of the Deity. So far from this being true, the very reverse is the case” (p. 467).[251]
Second, “It is a common opinion that savages are, as a general rule, only the miserable remnants of nations once more civilised; but although there are some well-established cases of national decay, there is no scientific evidence which would justify us in asserting that this is generally the case” (p. 337).
In opposition to the first proposition, I maintain that there is no race of men so degraded as to be without some vestige of religion.
And in opposition to the second, I assert that if they have a vestige of religion, and nothing else, they have still that which will convict them of degeneracy.
First, To say that a savage has no idea of the Deity, is to say merely that he is a savage; and it appears to me that this extinction of all knowledge of the Deity among a people, precisely marks the point where the barbarian lapses into the savage.
Taking the range of the authorities quoted by Sir J. Lubbock,[252] I find a great concurrence of testimony to the fact that there is some vestige of religion. One only—whose authority on any other point incidental to African travel I should regard as of the highest value—Captain Richard Burton, asserts without qualification, and in language sufficiently explicit, that “some of the tribes of the lake district of Central Africa admit neither God, nor angel, nor devil.” Others assert the same negatively—they did not come upon any signs of religion, any external observances, any trace of ceremonial worship. For instance, it is said that the Tasmanians had no word for a Creator (p. 468, Lubbock), which need not excite surprise, as it is also said of them that they were incapable of forming any abstract ideas at all (p. 355, Lubbock). Again, in many of those cases where it is more or less roundly asserted that there is no vestige of religion, we find it plainly intimated that there is a belief in the devil, e.g. Lubbock, p. 469.
“The Tonpinambas of Brazil had no religion, though if the name is applied ‘à des notions fantastiques d’êtres surnaturals et puissans on ne sauroit nier qu’ils n’eussent une croyance religieuse et même une sorte de culte exterieur.’”—Freycinet, i. 153.
Now, although the devil may, and in many instances no doubt has,[253] made a special revelation of himself to his votaries, the ordinary channel of information concerning him is through tradition, and through the tradition of the fall of man.
But I ask further of those who dispute this, If savages are found with this fear of the supernatural world, after they have lost the idea of God, how do they get it? If not from tradition, then from reflection? But savages do not reason (Lubbock, p. 465). Moreover, at p. 470, Sir J. Lubbock says, what really brings us very nearly to agreement, “How, for instance, can a people who are unable to count their own fingers, possibly raise their minds so far as to admit even the rudiments of a religion?” This is said with reference to a previous allegation, “That those who assert that even the lowest savages believe in a Deity, affirm that which is entirely contrary to the evidence” (p. 470). But there is a great concurrence of evidence that “even the lowest savages” believe in the devil. Belief in the devil involves a realisation more or less obscure of the fallen angel, of the Spirit of Evil—and this for the savage who “cannot count his fingers” is as great an intellectual effort as would be, merely considered as an intellectual effort, a belief in the Deity. On any theory of growth or development how could he (“the lowest savage”) have got the idea?
Several writers who are quoted, whilst they deny the existence of any notion of religion among a particular people, mention facts which are incompatible with that statement. I may also say, parenthetically, that to detect or elicit the sentiment of religion in others, one must have something of the sentiment in ourselves; e.g. there is the instance of Kolben (Lubbock, p. 469), “who, in spite of the assertions of the natives themselves, felt quite sure that certain dances must be of a religious character, let the Hottentots say what they will.” Now I must say there is great à priori probability in the truth of Kolben’s conviction, although he was probably led to it merely by the insight of his own mind. Let it be taken in connection with the following evidence in Washington Irving’s “Life of Columbus,” iii. 122–124:—