Again we come to the ever-recurring question—Whence is it? Whence arise belief, worship, superstition? Whence the striking likeness in all supernatural conceptions between nations and ages the most diverse? Why is it that so many peoples, during the successive stages of their progress, have their creation myth, their origin myth, their flood myth, their animal, and plant, and planet myths? This coincidence of evolution can scarcely be the result of accident. Mythologies, then, being like languages common to mankind, uniform in substance yet varying in detail, what follows with regard to the essential system of their supernatural conceptions? Is it a perfected gift of the Creator, the invention of a designing priesthood, or a spontaneous generation and natural development? So broad a question, involving as it does the weightiest matters connected with man, may scarcely expect exactly the same answer from any two persons. Origin of life, origin of mind, origin of belief, are as much problems to the profoundest philosopher of to-day, as they were to the first wondering, bewildered savage who wandered through primeval forests.
ORIGIN OF BELIEF.
Life is defined by Herbert Spencer as "the coördination of actions, or their continuous adjustment;" by Lewes as "a series of definite and successive changes, both of structure and composition, which take place within an individual without destroying its identity;" by Schelling as "the tendency to individuation;" by Richeraud as "a collection of phenomena which succeed each other during a limited time in an organized body;" and by De Blainville as "the two-fold internal movement of composition and decomposition, at once general and continuous." According to Hume, Mind is but a bundle of ideas and impressions which are the sum of all knowledge, and consequently, "the only things known to exist." In the positive philosophy of Auguste Comte, intellectual development is divided into three phases; namely, the Supernatural, in which the mind seeks for supernatural causes; the Metaphysical, wherein abstract forces are set up in place of supernatural agencies; and the Positive, which inquires into the laws which engender phenomena. Martineau, commenting upon intuition and the mind's place in nature, charges the current doctrine of evolution with excluding the element of life from developing organisms. Until the origin of mind, and the relation of mind to its environment is determined, the origin of the supernatural must remain unaccounted for. Yet we may follow the principle of worship back to very near its source, if we are unable entirely to account for it.
We have seen how the inability of brutes to form in the mind long sequences of thought, prevents speech; so, in primitive societies, when successions of unrecorded events are forgotten before any conception of general laws can be formed therefrom, polytheism in its grossest form is sure to prevail. Not until the earlier stages of progress are passed, and, from a multitude of correlative and oft-repeated experiences, general deductions made, can there be any higher religious conceptions than that of an independent cause for every consequence.
By some it is alleged that the religious sentiment is a divine idea perfected by the Creator and implanted in man as part of his nature, before his divergence from a primitive centre. Singularly enough, the Fathers of the Church referred the origin of fable as well as the origin of fact to the Hebrew Scriptures. Supported by the soundest sophistry, they saw in every myth, Grecian or barbarian, a biblical character. Thus the Greek Hercules was none other than the Hebrew Sampson; Arion was Jonah, and Deucalion Noah. Other mythological characters were supposed by them to have been incarnated fiends, who disappeared after working for a time their evil upon men.
There have been those who held myths to be the fictions of sorcery, as there are now those who believe that forms of worship were invented by a designing priesthood, or that mythology is but a collection of tales, physical, ethical and historical, invented by the sages and ancient wise men of the nation, for the purpose of overawing the wicked and encouraging the good. Some declare that religion is a factitious or accidental social phenomenon; others that it is an aggregation of organized human experiences; others that it is a bundle of sentiments which were originally projected by the imagination, and ultimately adopted as entities; others that it is a feeling or emotion, the genesis of which is due to surrounding circumstances.
Many believe all mythological personages to have been once real human heroes, the foundations of whose histories were laid in truth, while the structure was reared by fancy. The Egyptians informed Herodotus that their deities—the last of whom was Orus son of Osiris, the Apollo of the Grecians—were originally their kings. Others affirm that myths are but symbolic ideas deified; that they are but the embodiment of a maxim in the form of an allegory, and that under these allegorical forms were taught history, religion, law and morality.
Intermingled with all these hypotheses are elements of truth, and yet none of them appear to be satisfying explanations. All imply that religion, in some form, is an essential constituent of humanity, and that whatever its origin and functions, it has exercised from the earliest ages and does yet exercise the most powerful influence upon man; working like leaven in the lump, keeping the world in a ferment, stirring up men to action, banding and disrupting nations, uniting and dividing communities, and forming the nucleus of numberless societies and institutions.
RISE OF THE PRIMITIVE PRIESTHOOD.
In every society, small and great, there are undoubtedly certain intellects of quicker than ordinary perception, which seize upon occasions, and by a skillful use of means obtain a mastery over inferior minds. It is thus that political and social, as well as ecclesiastical power arises. Not that the leader creates a want—he is but the mouth-piece or agent of pent-up human instincts. One of these instincts is dependence. That we are created subordinate, not absolute nor unrestrained, is a fact from which none can escape. Thraldom, constant and insurmountable, we feel we have inherited. Most naturally, therefore, the masses of mankind seek from among their fellows some embodiment of power, and ranging themselves under the banner of leaders, follow blindly whithersoever they are led. Perceiving the power thus placed in their hands, these born leaders of men are not slow to invent means for retaining and increasing it. To the inquiry of the child or unsophisticated savage, who, startled by a peal of distant thunder, cries, "What is that?" the explanation is given; "That is the storm-god speaking." "I am afraid, protect me!" implores the supplicant. "I will, only obey," is the reply. The answer is sufficient, curiosity is satisfied, and terror allayed; the barbarian teacher gains a devotee. In this manner, the superstructure of creeds, witchcrafts, priestcrafts, may have arisen; some gods may thus have been made, forms of worship invented, and intercourse opened with beings supernal and infernal. Then devotion advances and becomes an art; professors by practice become experts. Meanwhile, craft is economized; the wary Shamán rain-doctor—like the worthy clergyman of civilized orthodoxy, who refused to pray for rain "while the wind was in that quarter"—watches well the gathering ripeness of the cloud before he attempts to burst it with an arrow. And in the end, a more than ordinary skill in the exercise of this power, deifies or demonizes the possessor.