(a) When a man is possessed by a spirit, it is the soul-force of that spirit which has entered him and taken command of his voice or limbs; and we have seen that this soul-force is the same as force magical. The spirit’s action is the same as that of the bugin or wizard, who boasted of having entered a horse and galloped off.[313]
(b) By Animism, prior to philosophical reflection, the spirit is not conceived of as strictly incorporeal; its force, which is magical, is quasi-mechanical. Hence, in South-East Australia, spirits can carry off a man in a bag[314] (made, no doubt, of bag-soul-stuff). But spirits may act upon a man very effectually without being mechanically felt; as among the Ekoi, where ghosts are either good or bad, and generally a good goes with a bad one to counteract his malevolence; but should a bad one wander forth alone, and should a man without the gift of seeing ghosts (which depends upon his having four eyes) run against it in the street, the ghost will not step aside, but strikes the man in the face; who then has lock-jaw, and dies.[315] As we have reason to believe that this is not the natural ætiology of lock-jaw, the ghost’s action is plainly magical: like that of the corpse-candle which, not long ago, on a slope of Plinlimmon one rainy night, a man inadvertently ran against, and was “struck down dead as a horse.”[316] The mere apparition of a ghost (at least, to any one who has not four eyes) is magical. The sending of a bird as an omen is magical.
This immediate power of the gods is nowhere shown more emphatically than in their metamorphoses: that these are sometimes wrought by spells or other enchantments proves that the operation is magical. Australian wizards transform themselves into kangaroos and other animals; and, in Arunta mythology, in the earliest Alcheringa (period of mythical ancestors), the Ungambikula—so called from having arisen out of nothing—with stone knives cut men out of rudimentary masses of unorganised matter (inapertua), and then transformed themselves into little lizards.[317] So this sort of self-conjuring may be said to begin at the beginning; and it cannot be necessary to accumulate examples of metamorphosis.
Several explanations of this belief in the possibility of changing the form of one’s body, or of having it changed by others, have been offered: none perhaps entirely satisfactory. We are not here concerned with the passing of a soul from one body to another—from a man into a wolf or into a serpent, or conversely: given the conception of a separable soul, that is easy to understand. What has to be explained is the belief in a magical change of the body itself, as in the common European superstition that a man may turn into a wolf, and back again, like Sigmund and his son in the Volsung Saga. It has been pointed out (i) that the savage may observe striking changes in nature: as in the shape of clouds and smoke, the burning of wood into flame, smoke and ashes, the evaporation of water; the turning of eggs into caterpillars, reptiles, birds, or of a chrysalis into an imago; the appearance of worms in putrefying bodies, and so forth.[318] With such facts before him, why should not the savage imagine himself also capable of transformation? (ii) Dream-images, too, pass one into another in a marvellous way. (iii) Since men are often called by the names of animals, how easy to suppose that, at times, they may really be those animals. How easy to confound a man with his Totem. In many savage dances, animals are imitated, and the imagination-belief in the reality of the pantomime grows very strong. (iv) The savage, when his imagination has been excited, is not clever at penetrating conjuring tricks and disguises; and some men, at first for their own ends, may have disguised themselves as animals and passed as animals; and in support of this explanation it may be observed that the animal into which men transform themselves is oftenest the most feared in their neighbourhood—the wolf, leopard, or tiger; and, of course, one case believed in, others follow by analogy. The mere report of such an happening might generate belief by force of fear. (v) In a wild country, a man (say one who is pursued) often disappears and is indiscoverable; so that he may seem to have turned into a kangaroo, or a stone, or a tree that appears in his place, as Daphne hid successfully in a laurel-thicket: or if such an occurrence did not originate the belief in metamorphosis, it may have helped to confirm it. (vi) In mental disease, the patient sometimes believes himself to be some kind of animal, and acts accordingly: perhaps as a result of the popular belief, but doubtless also confirming it.[319] Weighing all these hypotheses, I lean to the view that, starting from the fact (as ground of analogy) that astonishing changes are observed in nature and in dreams, the belief in metamorphosis as a magical operation rests chiefly upon the deceptions and confident assertions of wizards that they can, and do, change their form, supported by their reputation for wonder-working and by the fears of their neighbours. Now, if wizards can change their shapes, of course the gods can.[320]
(c) Spirits and gods are known to use amulets and talismans, not invented by poets as symbols, but prized as the instruments of their power, as an enchanter values his wand. Such are the caduceus of Hermes, the cestus of Aphrodite, Thor’s hammer Mjölnir, Woden’s spear Gunguir and his wishing staff. The gods of Egypt and Babylon also wore charms. Since chieftains are frequently magicians, and also become gods, it follows that the gods are magicians; though, indeed, as Grimm observes, their power is to be called miraculous rather than magical. But Magic, being the highest power known to men, and the most desired, is of course attributed to spirits and to gods.
The most extensive powers of spirits, however, depend on the use of words or spells. The hero of the Western Isles of Torres Straits, Kwoiam, employed magical formulæ.[321] The gods and demigods of the Maories carried out their extraordinary adventures by the power of incantations. Maui, by incantations, fishes up dry land from the bottom of the sea, and turns his brother-in-law into a dog; Tawhaki and his brother Karahi, by incantations, make themselves invisible, and avenge their father Hema upon his enemies; and so forth.[322] Celtic and Teutonic deities worked wonders by songs and spells. Isis was the greatest enchantress that ever lived. She made from the spittle of Ra a serpent that bit and poisoned him; and then she healed him by an incantation, having first compelled him to reveal to her his name, to the knowledge of which the god himself owed his power over gods and men; so that she obtained the mastery over all the gods.[323]
As spells, when used by men, may be more efficacious when muttered and whispered than when spoken aloud, so they may retain their power when silently wished or thought; and it is the same with spirits: to control events it may be enough for them to think. And this belief emerges at no very high level of Animism; it needs no philosophical instruction in the mysterious energy of ideas. The Sia Indians (North Mexico) have a Cougar Society, which meets for a two days’ ceremonial, before a hunting expedition, to propitiate the cougar (puma), because he is the great father and master of all game. He is believed to draw all kinds of game to him by sitting still with folded arms and mentally demanding their presence; and by the same means he sends game to whomsoever he favours.[324]
Apparently, then, Magic is an art antecedent to the existence of spirits and ready for their use; and they stand in the same relations to it as men do. Animistic usages are originally magical—spells, rites, metamorphoses; and all animistic ideas are magical, except one—the capriciousness of spiritual agency.