It is a significant fact that 'totem' and 'taboo' are concepts for which our cultural languages possess no adequate words. Both these terms are taken from the languages of so-called natural peoples, 'totem' from an idiom of the North American Indians, and 'taboo' from the Polynesian languages. The word 'totem' is as yet relatively uncommon in literature, with the exception of books on ethnology and folk psychology; the word 'taboo,' on the other hand, is much in use. A thing is called taboo when it may not be touched, or when it must be avoided for some reason, whether because of its peculiar sanctity or contrariwise because its harmful influence renders it 'impure,' defiling every one who comes into contact with it. Thus, two opposing ideas are combined in the conception of taboo: the idea of the sacred as something to be avoided because of its sanctity, and that of the impure or loathsome, which must be avoided because of its repulsive or harmful nature. These ideas combine in the conception of fear. There is, indeed, one sort of fear which we call awe, and another termed aversion. Now, the history of taboo ideas leaves no doubt that in this case awe and aversion sprang from the same source. That which aroused aversion at a later age was in the totemic period chiefly an object of awe, or, at any rate, of fear—that is, of a feeling in which aversion and awe were still undifferentiated. That which is designated by the simplest word [Scheu] is also earliest in origin; awe [Ehrfurcht] and aversion [Abscheu] developed from fear [Scheu].
If, now, we associate the term 'taboo' in a general way with an object that arouses fear, the earliest object of taboo seems to have been the totem animal. One of the most elemental of totemic ideas and customs consists in the fact that the members of a totem group are prohibited from eating the flesh of the totem, and sometimes also from hunting the totem animal. This prohibition, of course, can have originated only in a general feeling of fear, as a result of which the members of a totemic group are restrained from eating or killing the totem animal. In many regions, where the culture, although already totemic, is, nevertheless, primitive, the totem animal appears to be the only object of taboo. This fact alone makes it probable that totemism lies at the basis of taboo ideas. The protective animal of the individual long survived the tribal totem and sometimes spread to far wider regions. Similarly, the taboo, though closely related to tribal organization in origin, underwent further developments which continued after the totemic ideas from which it sprang had either entirely disappeared or had, at any rate, vanished with the exception of meagre traces. This accounts for the fact that it is not in Australia, the original home of the totem, that we find the chief centre of taboo customs, nor in Melanesian territory, where the totem is still fairly common, nor in North America, but in Polynesia.
It is in Polynesia, therefore, that we can most clearly trace the spread of taboo ideas beyond their original starting-point. The taboo of animals is here only incidental; man himself is the primary object of taboo—not every individual, but the privileged ones, the superiors, the priest, the chieftain. Closely related to the fact that man is thus held taboo, is the development of chieftainship and the gradual growth of class differences. The higher class becomes taboo to the lower class. This fear is then carried over from the man himself to his possessions. The property of the nobleman is taboo to every other person. The taboo has not merely the force of a police law, similar to that whereby, in other localities, men of superior rank prohibit entrance to their parks; it is a religious law, whose transgression is eventually punished by death. It is particularly the chief and his property that are objects of taboo. Where the taboo regulations were strict, no one was allowed to venture close to the chief or even to speak his name. Thus, the taboo might become an intolerable constraint. In Hawaii, the chief was not allowed to raise his own food to his mouth, for he was taboo and his contact with the food rendered this also taboo. Hence the Hawaian chief was obliged to have a servant feed him. The objects which he touched became taboo to all individuals. In short, he became the very opposite of a despotic ruler, namely, the slave of a despotic custom.
From the individual person, the taboo was further extended to localities, houses, and lands. A member of the aristocratic class might render taboo not only his movable property but also his land. The temple, in particular, was taboo, and, together with the priests, it retained this character longer than any other object. The taboo concerned with the eating of certain animals, however, also remained in force for a long time. Though these animals were at first avoided as sacred, the taboo of the sacred, in this case, later developed into that of the impure. Thus, this conception recurs, in a sense, to its beginning. For the fear that is associated with the animals which the totem group regards as sacred, is here combined with the fear that the eating of the flesh is harmful. Sickness or even death is believed to follow a transgression of such a taboo regulation. Even in its original home, however, the taboo assumes wider forms. It subjects to its influence the demon-ideas that reach back even to pretotemic times. The corpse particularly, and the sick person also, are held taboo because of the demoniacal magic proceeding from them. Likewise the priest and the chief are taboo, because of their sacredness. Thus, the taboo gains a circle of influence that widens according as totemic ideas proper recede. The taboo which the upper classes placed upon their property had come to be such a preponderant factor in Polynesian custom that the first investigators of these regions believed the taboo in general to be chiefly an institution whereby the rich aimed to protect their property by taking advantage of the superstition of the masses.
One of the most remarkable extensions of the scope of taboo is the taboo which rests on relations by marriage. The history of exogamy, whose earliest stages are represented by the totemic marriage laws of the Australians, clearly teaches that the aversion to marriage between blood relations was not the cause but at most, to a great extent, the effect of exogamous customs that everywhere reach back into a distant past. But there is a second class of marriage prohibitions, and this likewise has found a place even in present-day legislation—the prohibition of unions between relations by marriage. Such prohibitions are from the very beginning outside the pale of exogamous laws. Indeed, it is clear that all unions of this sort—such, for example, as are forbidden by our present laws—were permitted by the totem and clan exogamy of the Australians and that of the American Indians. In the case of maternal descent, the group from which a man must select his wife included his mother-in-law as well as his wife. Similarly, in the case of paternal descent, the husband and father-in-law were totem associates. There is another set of customs, however, which is generally connected with even the earliest forms of exogamy, and which fills out in a very remarkable way the gap that appears in the original totemic exogamy when this is compared with present-day legislation. These customs are no other than the laws of taboo. One of the earliest and most common of these regulations is the taboo of the mother-in-law. Corresponding to it, not so common and yet obviously a parallel phenomenon occasionally connected with it, is the taboo of the father-in-law. The relative distribution of the two taboos is analogous to that of maternal and paternal descent in the primitive condition of society, for it is maternal descent that is dominant. This is not at all meant to imply that there is any casual[1] relation between these phenomena. Rather is it true, probably, that they are based upon similar motives, and that these motives, just as in the case of marriage between relations, are more potent in the case of the mother than in that of the father. In general, however, the taboo of parents-in-law signifies that the husband must so far as possible avoid meeting his mother-in-law, and the wife, her father-in-law. Now, it is evident that in so far as this avoidance excludes the possibility of marriage, the custom is, in a way, supplementary to exogamy. Wherever maternal descent prevails, no one may marry his mother; and, where taboo of the mother-in-law exists, no one may marry his mother-in-law. The same holds of father and daughter, and of father and daughter-in-law, in the case of paternal descent. This analogy may possibly indicate the correct clue to the interpretation of the phenomena. It would certainly be erroneous to regard the taboo of the mother-in-law as a regulation intentionally formulated to prevent unions between direct relations by marriage. Yet there is evidence here of a natural association by virtue of which the fear of marriage with one's own mother, which, though not caused by the exogamous prohibition, is nevertheless greatly strengthened by it, is directly carried over to the mother-in-law. Between a woman and the husband of her daughter there thus arises a state of taboo such as is impossible between mother and son because, from the time of his birth on, they are in close and constant relation with each other. In consequence of the above-mentioned association, mother and mother-in-law, or father and father-in-law, form a unity analogous to that which obtains between man and wife. What is true of the husband, is also true in the case of the wife; similarly, what holds for the mother of the husband holds no less for the mother of the wife.
Striking evidence of the effect of an association of ideas that is perfectly analogous to the one underlying the taboo of the mother-in-law, is offered by a custom which is doubtless generally only local in scope and yet is found in the most diverse parts of the earth, thus showing plainly that it is autochthonous in character. I refer to the custom of so-called father-confinement or 'couvade.' This custom prevails in various places, occurring even in Europe, where it is practised by the Basques of the Pyrenées, a remarkable fragment of a pre-Indo-Germanic population of Europe. Due, probably, to the heavier tasks which these people impose upon women, it here occasionally occurs in an exaggerated form. Even after the mother has already begun to attend to her household duties, the father, lying in the bed to which he has voluntarily retired, receives the congratulations of the relatives. Custom also demands that he subject himself to certain ascetic restrictions, namely, that he avoid the eating of certain kinds of food. The custom of couvade is clearly the result of an ideational association between husband and wife—one that is absolutely analogous to that between the two mothers of the married couple. The child owes its existence to both father and mother. Both, therefore, must obey the regulations which surround birth, and thus they are also subject to the same taboo. Just as there is very commonly a taboo on the mother and her new-born child, so also, in the regions where couvade exists, is this transferred to the husband.
As is well known, the last vestiges of the taboo of the mother-in-law have not yet disappeared, though they survive only in humour, as do many other customs that were once seriously practised. In fact, there is no other form of relationship, whether by blood or by marriage, that is so subjected to the satire of daily life as well as to the witticisms and jokes of comic papers as is that of the unfortunate mother-in-law. Thus, the primitive taboo resting on the mother-in-law and also, even though in lesser degree, on the father-in-law, has registered itself in habits that are relatively well known. Graver results of the regulations of ancient custom are doubtless to be found in those prohibitions of union between relatives by marriage that still constitute essential elements of present-day laws. This, of course, does not mean that these prohibitions are unjustifiable or that they do not reflect natural feelings. They but exemplify the fact that every law presupposes a development which, as a rule, goes back to a distant past, and that the feelings which we to-day regard as natural and original had a definite origin and assumed their present character as the outcome of many changes.
Alongside of these later forms of the taboo, and outlasting them, we have its most primitive form. This is the taboo which rests on the eating of certain foods, particularly the flesh of certain animals, though less frequently it applies also to occasional plants. The latter, however, probably represents a transference, just as does plant totemism. A particular example of such a taboo is the avoidance of the bean by the Grecian sect of Orphians and by the Pythagoreans whom they influenced. The taboo of certain animals survived much longer. But it was just in this case that there came an important shift of ideas which gave to the taboo a meaning almost the opposite of that which it originally possessed. Proof of such a change is offered by the Levitical Priests' Code of Israel. The refined casuistry of the priests prescribed even to details what the Israelite might eat and what was taboo for him. For the Israelite, however, this taboo was not associated with the sacred but with the unclean. The original taboo on the eating of the flesh of an animal related, in the totemic period, to the sacred animal. This is the taboo in its original form. The Australian shrinks from eating the flesh of his totem animal, not because it is unclean, but because he fears the revenge of demons if he consumes the protective animal of his group. In the Priests' Code, the sacred object has become entirely transmuted into an unclean object, supposed to contaminate all who eat of it. It is a striking fact, however, that the animals which are regarded as unclean are primarily the early totem animals—the screech-owl, the bat, the eagle, the owl, etc. Of the animals that live in or near the sea, only those may be eaten that have scales, that is, only fish proper, and not the snake-like fish. The snake itself and the snake-like reptiles are taboo, as well as numerous birds—all of which were at a very early period totem animals. Heading the list of the animals that may be eaten, on the other hand, are the ox, the sheep, the goat—in short, the animals of an agricultural and sheep-raising culture. Thus, as the original magical motives of taboo disappear, their place is taken by the emotion of fear, which causes the object arousing it to appear as unclean. Whoever touches such an object is polluted in a physical as well as a moral sense, and requires a cleansing purification according to rites prescribed by cult. We cannot avoid the impression, accordingly, that the unclean animals held to be taboo by the Priests' Code, are the same as those which this same people regarded as sacred soul and totem animals at an earlier stage of culture. Thus, these prohibitions with reference to food are analogous to the impassioned preaching against false idolatry—both refer back to an earlier cult. In this category belongs also the prohibition of consuming the blood of animals in the eating of their flesh. This likewise is the survival of a very common belief—certainly prevalent also among the Israelites at one time—that with the blood of an animal one might appropriate its spirit-power. The priestly law transforms this motive into its direct opposite. For the text expressly says: "In the blood is the life; but ye shall not destroy the life together with the flesh."
Thus, the significance of the taboo shifts from the sacred, which evokes man's fear, to the unclean and demoniacal, which also arouse fear but in the form of aversion. Closely related to this change is a group of views and customs resulting from this last form of taboo and reaching down, as its after-effects, far into the later religious development. These are the purification rites connected with the ideas of clean and unclean. The word lustratio, by which the Romans designated these rites, is really more appropriate than the German word Reinigung, since it suggests more than merely the one aspect of these usages. Indeed, the idea of purification is not even primary, any more than the conception of the unclean is the initial stage in the development of the taboo. On the other hand, the idea that a man might be exposed to demoniacal powers by touching an object or by eating a certain food, such, for example, as the flesh of certain animals, is in entire accord with such primitive notions as are expressed in the fear of the corpse and of sickness, as well as in other similar phenomena. The essential thing is to escape the demon who is harboured in the particular object of concern. This impulse is so irresistible that, whenever the idea of taboo arises, the conception of lustration, of a magic counteraction to the demoniacal power, is also evolved. Thus, magic and counter-magic, here, as everywhere, stand in antithesis. The means of such counter-magic are not only very similar throughout the most remote parts of the earth, but externally they remain the same even throughout the various stages of culture. There are only three means by which an individual may free himself from the effects of a violation of taboo—water, fire, and magical transference.
Of these means, the one which is the most familiar to us is water. Just as water removes physical uncleanness, so also does it wash away soul or demoniacal impurity—not symbolically, for primitive man has no symbols in our sense of the word, but magically. As water is the most common element, so also is it the most common magical means of lustration. Besides water, fire also is employed; generally it is regarded as the more potent element—in any event, its use for this purpose anteceded that of water. Fire, no less than water, is supposed to remove the impurity or the demoniacal influences to which a man has been exposed. It is especially peculiar to fire, however, that it is held not only to free an individual from an impurity which he has already contracted, but also to protect him from the possibility of contamination. This preventive power, of course, later came to be ascribed to water also. Indeed, all the various means of lustration may come to be substituted for one another, so that each of them may eventually acquire properties that originally belonged exclusively to one of the others. The third form of purification, finally, consists in a magical transference of the impurity from man to other objects or to other beings, as, for example, from a man to an animal. Closely associated with such a transference are a considerable number of other magic usages. These have even found their way down into modern superstition. We need but refer to the above-mentioned cord-magic, by which a sickness, for example, is transferred to a tree by tying a cord around it.