The Positive Cult, continued: III. Representative or Commemorative Rites

The explanation which we have given of the positive rites of which we have been speaking in the two preceding chapters attributes to them a significance which is, above all, moral and social. The physical efficaciousness assigned to them by the believer is the product of an interpretation which conceals the essential reason for their existence: it is because they serve to remake individuals and groups morally that they are believed to have a power over things. But even if this hypothesis has enabled us to account for the facts, we cannot say that it has been demonstrated directly; at first view, it even seems to conciliate itself rather badly with the nature of the ritual mechanisms which we have analysed. Whether they consist in oblations or imitative acts, the gestures composing them have purely material ends in view; they have, or seem to have, the sole object of making the totemic species reproduce. Under these circumstances, is it not surprising that their real function should be to serve moral ends?

Our explanation of the positive rites discussed in the previous two chapters gives them a mainly moral and social meaning. Believers think the rites have physical effects. But this interpretation conceals the essential reason the rites exist. People believe the rites have power over things because they help renew individuals and groups morally. Although this hypothesis has allowed us to account for the facts, we cannot say it has been demonstrated directly. At first, it even seems hard to reconcile with the nature of the ritual mechanisms we have analyzed. Whether these rites consist of offerings or imitative acts, the gestures involved aim at purely material ends. Their only purpose is, or seems to be, to make the totemic species reproduce. Under these circumstances, is it not surprising that their real function should be to serve moral ends?

It is true that their physical function may have been exaggerated by Spencer and Gillen, even in the cases where it is the most incontestable. According to these authors, each clan celebrates its Intichiuma for the purpose of assuring a useful food to the other clans, and the whole cult consists in a sort of economic co-operation of the different totemic groups; each works for the others. But according to Strehlow, this conception of Australian totemism is wholly foreign to the native mind. "If," he says, "the members of one totemic group set themselves to multiplying the animals or plants of the consecrated species, and seem to work for their companions of other totems, we must be careful not to regard this collaboration as the fundamental principle of Arunta or Loritja totemism. The blacks themselves have never told me that this was the object of their ceremonies. Of course, when I suggested and explained the idea to them, they understood it and acquiesced. But I should not be blamed for having some distrust of replies gained in this fashion." Strehlow also remarks that this way of interpreting the rite is contradicted by the fact that the totemic animals and plants are not all edible or useful; some are good for nothing; some are even dangerous. So the ceremonies which concern them could not have any such end in view.¹¹⁹⁰ "When some one asks the natives what the determining reason for these ceremonies is," concludes our author, "they are unanimous in replying: 'It is because our ancestors arranged things thus. This is why we do thus and not differently.'"¹¹⁹¹ But in saying that the rite is observed because it comes from the ancestors, it is admitted that its authority is confounded with the authority of tradition, which is a social affair of the first order. Men celebrate it to remain faithful to the past, to keep for the group its normal physiognomy, and not because of the physical effects which it may produce. Thus, the way in which the believers themselves explain them show the profound reasons upon which the rites proceed.

It is true that Spencer and Gillen may have exaggerated the physical function of the rites. This may be true even where that function is clearest. According to these authors, each clan celebrates its Intichiuma to provide useful food for the other clans. They say the whole cult consists of a kind of economic cooperation among the different totemic groups. Each group works for the others. But according to Strehlow, this view of Australian totemism is entirely foreign to the native mind. "If members of one totemic group try to increase the animals or plants of their consecrated species, they seem to work for their companions of other totems," he says. "But we must be careful not to regard this cooperation as the basic principle of Arunta or Loritja totemism. The blacks themselves have never told me that this was the purpose of their ceremonies. Of course, when I suggested and explained the idea to them, they understood and agreed. But I should not be blamed for being somewhat distrustful of answers obtained in this way." Strehlow also notes a fact that contradicts this interpretation of the rite. Not all totemic animals and plants are edible or useful. Some are good for nothing, and some are even dangerous. So the ceremonies concerning them could not have such a purpose.¹¹⁹⁰ "When someone asks the natives why they perform these ceremonies," our author concludes, "they all give the same answer: 'It is because our ancestors arranged things this way. That is why we do things this way and not differently.'"¹¹⁹¹ But saying that the rite is observed because it comes from the ancestors is an admission. It means that the rite's authority is bound up with the authority of tradition. Tradition is a social matter of the first importance. People celebrate the rite to remain faithful to the past and preserve the group's usual character. They do not celebrate it because of the physical effects it may produce. Thus, the believers' own explanation of the rites shows the deep reasons behind them.

But there are cases when this aspect of the ceremonies is immediately apparent.

But in some cases, this aspect of the ceremonies is immediately clear.

These may be observed the best among the Warramunga.¹¹⁹²

These can best be observed among the Warramunga.¹¹⁹²

Among this people, each clan is thought to be descended from a single ancestor who, after having been born in some determined spot, passed his terrestrial existence in travelling over the country in every direction. It is he who, in the course of his voyages, gave to the land the form which it now has; it is he who made the mountains and plains, the water-holes and streams, etc. At the same time, he sowed upon his route living germs which were disengaged from his body and, after many successive reincarnations, became the actual members of the clan. Now the ceremony of the Warramunga which corresponds exactly to the Intichiuma of the Arunta, has the object of commemorating and representing the mythical history of this ancestor. There is no question of oblations or, except in one single case,¹¹⁹³ of imitative practices. The rite consists solely in recollecting the past and, in a way, making it present by means of a veritable dramatic representation. This word is the more exact because in this ceremony, the officiant is in no way considered an incarnation of the ancestor, whom he represents; he is an actor playing a rôle.

Among this people, each clan is believed to descend from a single ancestor. After being born in a particular place, the ancestor spent his earthly life traveling across the country in every direction. During his travels, he gave the land its present form. He made the mountains and plains, the waterholes and streams, and so on. Along the way, he also scattered living germs that came from his body. After many successive reincarnations, these became the present members of the clan. The Warramunga ceremony that corresponds exactly to the Arunta Intichiuma commemorates and portrays the mythical history of this ancestor. It involves no offerings and, except in one case,¹¹⁹³ no imitative practices. The rite consists solely of recalling the past and, in a sense, bringing it into the present through an actual dramatic performance. “Performance” is especially apt because the officiant is not considered an incarnation of the ancestor he portrays. He is an actor playing a role.

As an example, let us describe the Intichiuma of the Black Snake, as Spencer and Gillen observed it.¹¹⁹⁴

As an example, let us describe the Intichiuma of the Black Snake, as Spencer and Gillen observed it.¹¹⁹⁴

An initial ceremony does not seem to refer to the past; at least the description of it which is given us gives no authorization for interpreting it in this sense. It consists in running and leaping on the part of two officiants,¹¹⁹⁵ who are decorated with designs representing the black snake. When they finally fall exhausted on the ground, the assistants gently pass their hands over the emblematic designs with which the backs of the two actors are covered. They say that this act pleases the black snake. It is only afterwards that the series of commemorative ceremonies commences.

The first ceremony does not seem to refer to the past. At least, the description we have gives no reason to interpret it that way. Two officiants¹¹⁹⁵ run and leap. They are decorated with designs representing the black snake. When they finally fall to the ground exhausted, the assistants gently pass their hands over the symbolic designs covering their backs. They say that this act pleases the black snake. Only afterward does the series of commemorative ceremonies begin.

They put into action the mythical history of the ancestor Thalaualla, from the moment he emerged from the ground up to his definite return thither. They follow him through all his voyages. The myth says that in each of the localities where he sojourned, he celebrated totemic ceremonies; they now repeat them in the same order in which they are supposed to have taken place originally. The movement which is acted the most frequently consists in twisting the entire body about rhythmically and violently; this is because the ancestor did the same thing to make the germs of life which were in him come out. The actors have their bodies covered with down, which is detached and flies away during these movements; this is a way of representing the flight of these mystic germs and their dispersion into space.

They act out the mythical history of the ancestor Thalaualla, from his emergence from the ground to his final return underground. They follow him through all his journeys. The myth says that he performed totemic ceremonies at each place he stayed. They now repeat these ceremonies in the order in which they are believed to have originally occurred. The most frequent movement is a rhythmic, violent twisting of the whole body. This is because the ancestor did the same thing to release the germs of life within him. The actors’ bodies are covered with down, which comes loose and flies away during these movements. This represents the flight of these mystical germs and their dispersal into space.

It will be remembered that among the Arunta, the scene of the ceremony is determined by the ritual: it is the spot where the sacred rocks, trees and water-holes are found, and the worshippers must go there to celebrate the cult. Among the Warramunga, on the contrary, the ceremonial ground is arbitrarily chosen according to convenience. It is a conventional scene. However, the original scene of the events whose reproduction constitutes the theme of the rite is itself represented by means of designs. Sometimes these designs are made upon the very bodies of the actors. For example, a small circle coloured red, painted on the back and stomach, represents a water-hole.¹¹⁹⁶ In other cases, the image is traced on the soil. Upon a ground previously soaked and covered with red ochre, they draw curved lines, made up of a series of white points, which symbolize a stream or a mountain. This is a beginning of decoration.

As we have seen, among the Arunta, the ritual determines where the ceremony takes place. It is held where the sacred rocks, trees, and waterholes are found. The worshippers must go there to perform the ritual. Among the Warramunga, by contrast, the ceremonial ground is chosen freely for convenience. It is an agreed-upon setting. However, designs represent the original setting of the events that the rite reenacts. Sometimes these designs are painted on the performers’ bodies. For example, a small red circle painted on the back and stomach represents a waterhole.¹¹⁹⁶ In other cases, the image is drawn on the ground. First, the ground is soaked and covered with red ochre. Then curved lines made up of a series of white dots are drawn on it. These lines symbolize a stream or a mountain. This is an early form of decoration.

In addition to the properly religious ceremonies which the ancestor is believed to have celebrated long ago, they also represent simple episodes of his career, either epic or comic. Thus, at a given moment, while three actors are on the scene, occupied in an important rite, another one hides behind a bunch of trees situated at some distance. A packet of down is attached about his neck which represents a wallaby. As soon as the principal ceremony is finished, an old man traces a line upon the ground which is directed towards the spot where the fourth actor is hidden. The others march behind him, with eyes lowered and fixed upon this line, as though following a trail. When they discover the man, they assume a stupefied air and one of them beats him with a club. This represents an incident in the life of the great black snake. One day, his son went hunting, caught a wallaby and ate it without giving his father any. The latter followed his tracks, surprised him and forced him to disgorge; it is to this that the beating at the end of the representation alludes.¹¹⁹⁷

In addition to reenacting religious ceremonies that the ancestor is believed to have performed long ago, they portray simple episodes from his life. Some are heroic, others comic. For example, three actors may be on the scene, performing an important rite. Meanwhile, another actor hides behind a group of trees some distance away. A packet of down is tied around his neck to represent a wallaby. As soon as the main ceremony is over, an old man draws a line on the ground toward the fourth actor's hiding place. The others follow him, looking down at the line as though following a trail. When they find the man, they look astonished, and one of them beats him with a club. This scene represents an incident in the life of the great black snake. One day, his son went hunting, caught a wallaby, and ate it without giving his father any. The father followed his son's tracks, caught him by surprise, and forced him to vomit it up. The beating at the end of the scene refers to this.¹¹⁹⁷

We shall not relate here all the mythical events which are represented successively. The preceding examples are sufficient to show the character of these ceremonies: they are dramas, but of a particular variety; they act, or at least they are believed to act, upon the course of nature. When the commemoration of Thalaualla is terminated, the Warramunga are convinced that black snakes cannot fail to increase and multiply. So these dramas are rites, and even rites which, by the nature of their efficacy, are comparable on every point to those which constitute the Intichiuma of the Arunta.

We will not recount all the mythical events portrayed in succession here. The preceding examples are enough to show what these ceremonies are like. They are dramas, but of a particular kind. They affect the course of nature, or at least are believed to do so. When the commemoration of Thalaualla ends, the Warramunga are convinced that black snakes are certain to increase and multiply. So these dramas are rites. In the way they are believed to work, they are comparable in every respect to the rites that make up the Intichiuma of the Arunta.

Therefore each is able to clarify the other. It is even more legitimate to compare them than if there were no break of continuity between them. Not only is the end pursued identical in each case, but the most characteristic part of the Warramunga ritual is found in germ in the other. In fact, the Intichiuma, as the Arunta generally perform it, contains within it a sort of implicit commemoration. The places where it is celebrated are necessarily those which the ancestor made illustrious. The roads over which the worshippers pass in the course of their pious pilgrimages are those which the heroes of the Alcheringa traversed; the places where they stop to proceed with the rites are those where their fathers sojourned themselves, where they vanished into the ground, etc. So everything brings their memory to the minds of the assistants. Moreover, to the manual rites they frequently add hymns relating the exploits of their ancestors.¹¹⁹⁸ If, instead of being told, these stories are acted, and if, in this new form, they develop in such a way as to become an essential part of the ceremony, then we have the ceremony of the Warramunga. But even more can be said, for on one side, the Arunta Intichiuma is already a sort of representation. The officiant is one with the ancestor from whom he is descended and whom he reincarnates.¹¹⁹⁹ The gestures he makes are those which this ancestor made in the same circumstances. Speaking exactly, of course he does not play the part of the ancestral personage as an actor might do it; he is this personage himself. But it is true, notwithstanding, that, in one sense, it is the hero who occupies the scene. In order to accentuate the representative character of the rite, it would be sufficient for the duality of the ancestor and the officiant to become more marked; this is just what happens among the Warramunga.¹²⁰⁰ Even among the Arunta, at least one Intichiuma is mentioned in which certain persons are charged with representing ancestors with whom they have no relationship of mythical descent, and in which there is consequently a proper dramatic representation: this is the Intichiuma of the Emu.¹²⁰¹ It seems that in this case, also, contrarily to the general rule among this people, the theatre of the ceremony is artificially arranged.¹²⁰²

Therefore, each can help explain the other. Comparing them is even more justified than it would be if there were no break in continuity between them. Not only is the aim the same in each case, but the most distinctive part of the Warramunga ritual is present in the other in an early form. In fact, the Intichiuma, as the Arunta generally perform it, includes a kind of implicit commemoration. The places where it is celebrated are necessarily those made famous by the ancestor. The roads the worshippers follow on their religious pilgrimages are those traveled by the heroes of the Alcheringa. They stop to perform the rites at the places where their forefathers stayed, where they vanished into the ground, and so on. Everything, then, brings the ancestors to the minds of those present. Moreover, the worshippers often add hymns about their ancestors’ exploits to the physical rites.¹¹⁹⁸ If these stories are acted out instead of told, they take a new form. If they then develop into an essential part of the ceremony, we have the Warramunga ceremony. But we can say even more. For one thing, the Arunta Intichiuma is already a kind of representation. The officiant is one with the ancestor from whom he is descended and whom he reincarnates.¹¹⁹⁹ His gestures are those the ancestor made in the same circumstances. Strictly speaking, of course, he does not play the ancestor’s part as an actor might. He is the ancestor himself. Even so, in one sense, it is the hero who occupies the scene. To make the representative character of the rite more pronounced, the distinction between ancestor and officiant need only become clearer. This is just what happens among the Warramunga.¹²⁰⁰ Even among the Arunta, at least one Intichiuma is described in which certain people represent ancestors from whom they have no mythical descent. In this case, then, there is a dramatic representation in the proper sense. This is the Intichiuma of the Emu.¹²⁰¹ It seems that in this case, too, the setting of the ceremony is artificially arranged, contrary to the general rule among the Arunta.¹²⁰²

It does not follow from the fact that, in spite of the differences separating them, these two varieties of ceremony thus have an air of kinship, as it were, that there is a definite relation of succession between them, and that one is a transformation of the other. It may very well be that the resemblances pointed out come from the fact that the two sprang from the same source, that is, from the same original ceremony, of which they are only divergent forms: we shall even see that this hypothesis is the most probable one. But even without taking sides on this question, what has already been said is enough to show that they are rites of the same nature. So we may be allowed to compare them, and to use the one to enable us to understand the other better.

Despite their differences, these two kinds of ceremony seem related. But this does not necessarily mean that one came after the other and developed from it. The similarities may come from the fact that both arose from the same source. In other words, both may be different forms of the same original ceremony. We shall even see that this explanation is the most probable one. But we need not take sides on this question. What has already been said is enough to show that the two kinds of ceremony are rites of the same nature. So we may compare them and use each to better understand the other.

Now the peculiar thing in the ceremonies of the Warramunga of which we have been speaking, is that not a gesture is made whose object is to aid or to provoke directly the increase of the totemic species.¹²⁰³ If we analyse the movements made, as well as the words spoken, we generally find nothing which betrays any intention of this sort. Everything is in representations whose only object can be to render the mythical past of the clan present to the mind. But the mythology of a group is the system of beliefs common to this group. The traditions whose memory it perpetuates express the way in which society represents man and the world; it is a moral system and a cosmology as well as a history. So the rite serves and can serve only to sustain the vitality of these beliefs, to keep them from being effaced from memory and, in sum, to revivify the most essential elements of the collective consciousness. Through it, the group periodically renews the sentiment which it has of itself and of its unity; at the same time, individuals are strengthened in their social natures. The glorious souvenirs which are made to live again before their eyes, and with which they feel that they have a kinship, give them a feeling of strength and confidence: a man is surer of his faith when he sees to how distant a past it goes back and what great things it has inspired. This is the characteristic of the ceremony which makes it instructive. Its tendency is to act entirely upon the mind and upon it alone. So if men believe nevertheless that it acts upon things and that it assures the prosperity of the species, this can be only as a reaction to the moral action which it exercises and which is obviously the only one which is real. Thus the hypothesis which we have proposed is verified by a significant experiment, and this verification is the more convincing because, as we have shown, there is no difference in nature between the ritual system of the Warramunga and that of the Arunta. The one only makes more evident what we had already conjectured from the other.

The striking thing about the Warramunga ceremonies we have discussed is that not one gesture aims directly to help or cause the totemic species to increase.¹²⁰³ If we examine the movements and words, we generally find nothing that reveals such an intention. Everything consists of representations whose only possible purpose is to bring the clan’s mythical past to mind. But a group’s mythology is the system of beliefs shared by its members. The traditions it keeps alive express how society understands humans and the world. It is a moral system and a cosmology as well as a history. So the rite serves, and can serve, only to keep these beliefs alive and prevent them from fading from memory. In short, it renews the most essential elements of the collective consciousness. Through the rite, the group periodically renews its sense of itself and its unity. At the same time, individuals are strengthened in their social natures. The glorious memories brought to life before them give them a sense of strength and confidence, because they feel connected to those memories. A person is more certain of their faith when they see how far back it goes and what great things it has inspired. This feature makes the ceremony instructive. Its tendency is to act entirely on the mind and nothing else. So if people nevertheless believe that the ceremony acts on things and ensures the prosperity of the species, this can only be a response to its moral effect. That moral effect is obviously the only one that is real. A significant experiment thus verifies the hypothesis we have proposed. The verification is all the more convincing because, as we have shown, there is no difference in kind between the ritual system of the Warramunga and that of the Arunta. The Warramunga system only makes clearer what we had already inferred from the Arunta system.

But there are ceremonies in which this representative and idealistic character is still more accentuated.

But in some ceremonies, this symbolic and idealistic character is even more pronounced.

In those of which we have been speaking, the dramatic representation did not exist for itself; it was only a means having a very material end in view, namely, the reproduction of the totemic species. But there are others which do not differ materially from the preceding ones, but from which, nevertheless, all preoccupations of this sort are absent. The past is here represented for the mere sake of representing it and fixing it more firmly in the mind, while no determined action over nature is expected of the rite. At least, the physical effects sometimes imputed to it are wholly secondary and have no relation with the liturgical importance attributed to it.

In the rites we have discussed, the dramatic representation was not an end in itself. It was only a means to a very material end: the reproduction of the totemic species. But there are other rites that do not differ significantly from these, yet have no such concerns. In these rites, the past is represented simply for its own sake and to fix it more firmly in the mind. The rite is not expected to produce any specific effect on nature. At least, the physical effects sometimes attributed to the rite are entirely secondary. They bear no relation to the importance attributed to the rite in worship.

This is the case notably with the ceremonies which the Warramunga celebrate in honour of the snake Wollunqua.¹²⁰⁴

This is especially true of the ceremonies the Warramunga hold in honor of the snake Wollunqua.¹²⁰⁴

As we have already said, the Wollunqua is a totem of a very especial sort. It is not an animal or vegetable species, but a unique being: there is only one Wollunqua. Moreover, this being is purely mythical. The natives represent it as a colossal snake whose length is such that when it rises on its tail its head is lost in the clouds. It resides, they believe, in a water-hole called Thapauerlu, which is hidden in the bottom of a solitary valley. But if it differs in certain ways from the ordinary totems, it has all their distinctive characteristics nevertheless. It serves as the collective name and emblem of a whole group of individuals who regard it as their common ancestor, while the relations which they sustain with this mythical beast are identical with those which the members of other totems believe that they sustain with the founders of their respective clans. In the Alcheringa¹²⁰⁵ times, the Wollunqua traversed the country in every direction. In the different localities where it stopped, it scattered "spirit-children," the spiritual principles which still serve as the souls of the living of to-day. The Wollunqua is even considered as a sort of pre-eminent totem. The Warramunga are divided into two phratries, called Uluuru and Kingilli. Nearly all the totems of the former are snakes of different kinds. Now they are all believed to be descended from the Wollunqua; they say that it was their grandfather.¹²⁰⁶ From this, we can catch a glimpse of how the myth of the Wollunqua probably arose. In order to explain the presence of so many similar totems in the same phratry, they imagined that all were derived from one and the same totem; it was necessary to give it a gigantic form so that in its very appearance it might conform to the considerable rôle assigned to it in the history of the tribe.

As we have already said, the Wollunqua is a very unusual kind of totem. It is not an animal or plant species, but a unique being: there is only one Wollunqua. Moreover, this being is purely mythical. The Indigenous people picture it as a colossal snake. It is so long that when it rises on its tail, its head disappears into the clouds. They believe it lives in a waterhole called Thapauerlu, hidden at the bottom of a remote valley. But although it differs from ordinary totems in some ways, it has all their distinctive characteristics. It serves as the collective name and emblem of a whole group of people who regard it as their common ancestor. Their relationship with this mythical beast is identical to the relationship members of other totem groups believe they have with their respective clan founders. In the Alcheringa¹²⁰⁵ times, the Wollunqua traveled across the country in every direction. Wherever it stopped, it scattered "spirit-children," the spiritual principles that still serve as the souls of people living today. The Wollunqua is even considered a kind of superior totem. The Warramunga are divided into two phratries, called Uluuru and Kingilli. Nearly all the totems of the first phratry are snakes of different kinds. All these totems are believed to be descended from the Wollunqua. The Warramunga say that it was their grandfather.¹²⁰⁶ This gives us a glimpse of how the myth of the Wollunqua probably arose. To explain the presence of so many similar totems in the same phratry, the Warramunga imagined that all came from one totem. It was necessary to give that totem a gigantic form, so that its appearance would match its important role in the tribe's history.

Now the Wollunqua is the object of ceremonies not differing in nature from those which we have already studied: they are representations in which are portrayed the principal events of its fabulous life. They show it coming out of the ground and passing from one locality to another; they represent different episodes in its voyages, etc. Spencer and Gillen assisted at fifteen ceremonies of this sort which took place between the 27th of July and the 23rd of August, all being linked together in a determined order, in such a way as to form a veritable cycle.¹²⁰⁷ In the details of the rites constituting it, this long celebration is therefore indistinct from the ordinary Intichiuma of the Warramunga, as is recognized by the authors who have described it to us.¹²⁰⁸ But, on the other hand, it is an Intichiuma which could not have the object of assuring the fecundity of an animal or vegetable species, for the Wollunqua is a species all by itself and does not reproduce. It exists, and the natives do not seem to feel that it has need of a cult to preserve it in its existence. These ceremonies not only seem to lack the efficacy of the classic Intichiuma, but it even seems as though they have no material efficacy of any sort. The Wollunqua is not a divinity set over a special order of natural phenomena, so they expect no definite service from him in exchange for the cult. Of course they say that if the ritual prescriptions are badly observed, the Wollunqua becomes angry, leaves his retreat and comes to punish his worshippers for their negligence; and inversely, when everything passes regularly, they are led to believe that they will be fortunate and that some happy event will take place; but it is quite evident that these possible sanctions are an after-thought to explain the rite. After the ceremony had been established, it seemed natural that it should serve for something, and that the omission of the prescribed observances should therefore expose one to grave dangers. But it was not established to forestall these mythical dangers or to assure particular advantages. The natives, moreover, have only the very haziest ideas of them. When the whole ceremony is completed, the old men announce that if the Wollunqua is pleased, he will send rain. But it is not to have rain that they go through with the celebration.¹²⁰⁹ They celebrate it because their ancestors did, because they are attached to it as to a highly respected tradition and because they leave it with a feeling of moral well-being. Other considerations have only a complimentary part; they may serve to strengthen the worshippers in the attitude prescribed by the rite, but they are not the reason for the existence of this attitude.

The Wollunqua is the subject of ceremonies that are no different in nature from those we have already studied. These ceremonies portray the main events of its mythical life. They show it emerging from the ground and traveling from one place to another. They represent different episodes in its travels, and so on. Spencer and Gillen attended fifteen such ceremonies between July 27 and August 23. All were linked in a set order, so that they formed a true cycle.¹²⁰⁷ In the details of its rites, this long celebration is therefore indistinguishable from the ordinary Intichiuma of the Warramunga. The authors who described it to us recognize this.¹²⁰⁸ On the other hand, this Intichiuma could not be intended to ensure the fertility of an animal or plant species. The Wollunqua is a species all by itself and does not reproduce. It exists, and the natives do not seem to feel that it needs worship to keep it alive. These ceremonies not only seem to lack the effectiveness of the classic Intichiuma. They even seem to have no material effect of any kind. The Wollunqua is not a deity in charge of any particular kind of natural phenomenon. So the natives expect no specific service from him in exchange for their worship. Of course, they say that if the ritual rules are not properly observed, the Wollunqua becomes angry. He then leaves his retreat and punishes his worshippers for their negligence. Conversely, when everything goes as prescribed, they come to believe that they will be fortunate and that some happy event will occur. But these possible consequences are clearly an afterthought meant to explain the rite. Once the ceremony had been established, it seemed natural that it should serve some purpose. It also seemed natural that failing to observe the prescribed rules should expose people to grave dangers. But the ceremony was not established to prevent these mythical dangers or to secure particular benefits. Moreover, the natives have only very vague ideas about them. When the whole ceremony is complete, the old men announce that if the Wollunqua is pleased, he will send rain. But they do not perform the celebration in order to get rain.¹²⁰⁹ They celebrate it because their ancestors did, because they value it as a highly respected tradition, and because it leaves them with a feeling of moral well-being. Other considerations play only a supplementary role. They may help strengthen the worshippers’ commitment to the attitude prescribed by the rite, but they are not the reason for that attitude.

So we have here a whole group of ceremonies whose sole purpose is to awaken certain ideas and sentiments, to attach the present to the past or the individual to the group. Not only are they unable to serve useful ends, but the worshippers themselves demand none. This is still another proof that the psychical state in which the assembled group happens to be constitutes the only solid and stable basis of what we may call the ritual mentality. The beliefs which attribute such or such a physical efficaciousness to the rites are wholly accessory and contingent, for they may be lacking without causing any alteration in the essentials of the rite. Thus the ceremonies of the Wollunqua show even better than the preceding ones the fundamental function of the positive cult.

So we have a whole group of ceremonies whose only purpose is to awaken certain ideas and feelings. They connect the present to the past and the individual to the group. These ceremonies cannot serve practical purposes, and the worshippers themselves do not expect them to. This is further proof that the assembled group’s state of mind is the only solid and stable basis for what we may call the ritual mentality. Beliefs that attribute particular physical effects to rites are entirely secondary and incidental. They may be absent without changing anything essential to the rite. Thus, the ceremonies of the Wollunqua show the basic function of the positive cult even better than the previous ceremonies.

If we have insisted especially upon these solemnities, it is because of their exceptional importance. But there are others with exactly the same character. Thus, the Warramunga have a totem "of the laughing boy." Spencer and Gillen say that the clan bearing this name has the same organization as the other totemic groups. Like them, it has its sacred places (mungai) where the founder-ancestor celebrated ceremonies in the fabulous times, and where he left behind him spirit-children who became the men of the clan; the rites connected with this totem are indistinguishable from those relating to the animal or vegetable totems.¹²¹⁰ Yet it is evident that they could not have any physical efficaciousness. They consist in a series of four ceremonies which repeat one another more or less, but which are intended only to amuse and to provoke laughter by laughter, in fine, to maintain the gaiety and good-humour which the group has as its speciality.¹²¹¹

We have focused especially on these ceremonies because they are exceptionally important. But other ceremonies have exactly the same character. For example, the Warramunga have a totem "of the laughing boy." Spencer and Gillen say that the clan bearing this name has the same organization as other totemic groups. Like those groups, it has sacred places (mungai) where the founder-ancestor performed ceremonies in the mythical past. There, the founder-ancestor left spirit-children who became the men of the clan. The rites connected with this totem are indistinguishable from those connected with animal or plant totems.¹²¹⁰ Yet these rites clearly cannot have any physical effect. They consist of four ceremonies that more or less repeat one another. Their only purpose is to amuse and provoke laughter through laughter. In short, they maintain the cheerfulness and good humor that are the group’s specialty.¹²¹¹

We find more than one totem among the Arunta themselves which has no other Intichiuma. We have seen that among this people, the irregularities and depressions of the land, which mark the places where some ancestor sojourned, sometimes serve as totems.¹²¹² Ceremonies are attached to these totems which are manifestly incapable of physical effects of any sort. They can consist only in representations whose object is to commemorate the past, and they can aim at no end beyond this commemoration.¹²¹³

Among the Arunta themselves, we find more than one totem with no other Intichiuma. As we have seen, features and hollows in the land sometimes serve as totems among the Arunta. These mark places where an ancestor once stayed.¹²¹² The ceremonies associated with these totems are clearly incapable of producing any physical effects. They can consist only of representations intended to commemorate the past. They can have no purpose beyond this commemoration.¹²¹³

While they enable us to understand the nature of the cult better, these ritual representations also put into evidence an important element of religion: this is the recreative and esthetic element.

These ritual performances help us better understand the nature of religious worship. They also highlight an important element of religion: its recreational and aesthetic side.

We have already had occasion to show that they are closely akin to dramatic representations.¹²¹⁴ This kinship appears with still greater clarity in the latter ceremonies of which we have spoken. Not only do they employ the same processes as the real drama, but they also pursue an end of the same sort: being foreign to all utilitarian ends, they make men forget the real world and transport them into another where their imagination is more at ease; they distract. They sometimes even go so far as to have the outward appearance of a recreation: the assistants may be seen laughing and amusing themselves openly.¹²¹⁵

We have already shown that they are closely related to dramatic performances.¹²¹⁴ This resemblance is even clearer in the later ceremonies we have discussed. These ceremonies not only use the same techniques as drama, but also have a similar purpose. They serve no practical purpose. Instead, they make people forget the real world and transport them to another where their imaginations can roam more freely. They provide a distraction. Sometimes they even look like entertainment: those present may be seen laughing and openly enjoying themselves.¹²¹⁵

Representative rites and collective recreations are even so close to one another that men pass from one sort to the other without any break of continuity. The characteristic feature of the properly religious ceremonies is that they must be celebrated on a consecrated ground, from which women and non-initiated persons are excluded.¹²¹⁶ But there are others in which this religious character is somewhat effaced, though it has not disappeared completely. They take place outside the ceremonial ground, which proves that they are already laicized to a certain degree; but profane persons, women and children, are not yet admitted to them. So they are on the boundary between the two domains. They generally deal with legendary personages, but ones having no regular place in the frame-work of the totemic religion. They are spirits, more generally malevolent ones, having relations with the magicians rather than the ordinary believers, and sorts of bugbears, in whom men do not believe with the same degree of seriousness and firmness of conviction as in the proper totemic beings and things.¹²¹⁷ As the bonds by which the events and personages represented are attached to the history of the tribe relax, these take on a proportionately more unreal appearance, while the corresponding ceremonies change in nature. Thus men enter into the domain of pure fancy, and pass from the commemorative rite to the ordinary corrobbori, a simple public merry-making, which has nothing religious about it and in which all may take part indifferently. Perhaps some of these representations, whose sole object now is to distract, are ancient rites, whose character has been changed. In fact, the distinction between these two sorts of ceremonies is so variable that it is impossible to state with precision to which of the two kinds they belong.¹²¹⁸

Representative rites and collective entertainment are so closely related that people move from one to the other without any clear break. Strictly religious ceremonies must be held on consecrated ground, where women and uninitiated people are excluded.¹²¹⁶ But other ceremonies are less clearly religious, though they have not lost their religious character entirely. They take place outside the ceremonial ground, which shows that they have become secular to some degree. Yet uninitiated people, women, and children are still not admitted. These ceremonies therefore lie on the boundary between the two domains. They generally concern legendary figures who have no regular place in the structure of the totemic religion. These figures include spirits, usually malevolent, who have ties to magicians rather than ordinary believers. They also include frightening creatures in whom people believe less seriously and firmly than in the beings and things of the totemic religion itself.¹²¹⁷ As the events and figures portrayed become less closely tied to the tribe’s history, they seem less real. At the same time, the corresponding ceremonies change in character. People thus enter the realm of pure fantasy. They pass from commemorative rites to the ordinary corrobbori, a simple public celebration. It has nothing religious about it, and everyone may take part without distinction. Perhaps some of these performances, whose only purpose now is to entertain, are ancient rites that have changed character. In fact, the distinction between these two kinds of ceremony varies so much that it is impossible to say precisely which kind a ceremony belongs to.¹²¹⁸

It is a well-known fact that games and the principal forms of art seem to have been born of religion and that for a long time they retained a religious character.¹²¹⁹ We now see what the reasons for this are: it is because the cult, though aimed primarily at other ends, has also been a sort of recreation for men. Religion has not played this rôle by hazard or owing to a happy chance, but through a necessity of its nature. Though, as we have established, religious thought is something very different from a system of fictions, still the realities to which it corresponds express themselves religiously only when religion transfigures them. Between society as it is objectively and the sacred things which express it symbolically, the distance is considerable. It has been necessary that the impressions really felt by men, which served as the original matter of this construction, should be interpreted, elaborated and transformed until they became unrecognizable. So the world of religious things is a partially imaginary world, though only in its outward form, and one which therefore lends itself more readily to the free creations of the mind. Also, since the intellectual forces which serve to make it are intense and tumultuous, the unique task of expressing the real with the aid of appropriate symbols is not enough to occupy them. A surplus generally remains available which seeks to employ itself in supplementary and superfluous works of luxury, that is to say, in works of art. There are practices as well as beliefs of this sort. The state of effervescence in which the assembled worshippers find themselves must be translated outwardly by exuberant movements which are not easily subjected to too carefully defined ends. In part, they escape aimlessly, they spread themselves for the mere pleasure of so doing, and they take delight in all sorts of games. Besides, in so far as the beings to whom the cult is addressed are imaginary, they are not able to contain and regulate this exuberance; the pressure of tangible and resisting realities is required to confine activities to exact and economical forms. Therefore one exposes oneself to grave misunderstandings if, in explaining rites, he believes that each gesture has a precise object and a definite reason for its existence. There are some which serve nothing; they merely answer the need felt by worshippers for action, motion, gesticulation. They are to be seen jumping, whirling, dancing, crying and singing, though it may not always be possible to give a meaning to all this agitation.

It is well known that games and the main forms of art seem to have originated in religion. For a long time, they kept a religious character.¹²¹⁹ We can now see why. Although religious worship is aimed primarily at other ends, it has also been a kind of recreation for people. Religion has played this role not by accident or by happy chance, but because of its very nature. As we have established, religious thought is very different from a system of fictions. Still, the realities behind religious thought find religious expression only when religion transforms them. There is a considerable distance between society as it objectively exists and the sacred things that symbolize it. The impressions people actually felt provided the raw material for this construction. These impressions had to be interpreted, developed, and transformed until they became unrecognizable. So the world of religious things is partly imaginary, though only in its outward form. As a result, it lends itself more readily to the mind’s free creations. The intellectual forces that create this world are also intense and turbulent. Expressing reality through appropriate symbols is not enough to occupy them. Usually, some of this energy remains and seeks an outlet in additional, unnecessary works of luxury, that is, works of art. There are practices of this kind as well as beliefs. The excitement felt by assembled worshippers must find expression in exuberant movements. These movements are not easily directed toward carefully defined ends. Some of this energy finds an aimless outlet. It spreads simply for the pleasure of doing so, and worshippers take delight in all kinds of games. Moreover, insofar as the beings addressed in worship are imaginary, they cannot contain or regulate this exuberance. Only the pressure of tangible realities that resist us can confine activities to precise and economical forms. Therefore, we risk serious misunderstandings if we assume, when explaining rites, that every gesture has a precise purpose and a definite reason for being. Some gestures serve no purpose. They merely answer the worshippers’ need to act, move, and gesture. Worshippers can be seen jumping, whirling, dancing, crying out, and singing. Yet it may not always be possible to give a meaning to all this activity.

Therefore religion would not be itself if it did not give some place to the free combinations of thought and activity, to play, to art, to all that recreates the spirit that has been fatigued by the too great slavishness of daily work: the very same causes which called it into existence make it a necessity. Art is not merely an external ornament with which the cult has adorned itself in order to dissimulate certain of its features which may be too austere and too rude; but rather, in itself, the cult is something æsthetic. Owing to the well-known connection which mythology has with poetry, some have wished to exclude the former from religion;¹²²⁰ the truth is that there is a poetry inherent in all religion. The representative rites which have just been studied make this aspect of the religious life manifest; but there are scarcely any rites which do not present it to some degree.

Therefore, religion would not be itself if it left no room for free thought and activity, play, and art. These refresh the spirit when it has been worn down by the excessive drudgery of daily work. The very causes that brought religion into existence make room for these things necessary. Art is not merely an external decoration added to worship to disguise features that may be too harsh and austere. Rather, worship itself is aesthetic. Because mythology has a well-known connection to poetry, some have wanted to exclude mythology from religion.¹²²⁰ The truth is that poetry is inherent in all religion. The representative rites just studied reveal this aspect of religious life. But hardly any rites lack it entirely.

One would certainly commit the gravest error if he saw only this one aspect of religion, or if he even exaggerated its importance. When a rite serves only to distract, it is no longer a rite. The moral forces expressed by religious symbols are real forces with which we must reckon and with which we cannot do what we will. Even when the cult aims at producing no physical effects, but limits itself to acting on the mind, its action is in quite a different way from that of a pure work of art. The representations which it seeks to awaken and maintain in our minds are not vain images which correspond to nothing in reality, and which we call up aimlessly for the mere satisfaction of seeing them appear and combine before our eyes. They are as necessary for the well working of our moral life as our food is for the maintenance of our physical life, for it is through them that the group affirms and maintains itself, and we know the point to which this is indispensable for the individual. So a rite is something different from a game; it is a part of the serious life. But if its unreal and imaginary element is not essential, nevertheless it plays a part which is by no means negligible. It has its share in the feeling of comfort which the worshipper draws from the rite performed; for recreation is one of the forms of the moral remaking which is the principal object of the positive rite. After we have acquitted ourselves of our ritual duties, we enter into the profane life with increased courage and ardour, not only because we come into relations with a superior source of energy, but also because our forces have been reinvigorated by living, for a few moments, in a life that is less strained, and freer and easier. Hence religion acquires a charm which is not among the slightest of its attractions.

It would certainly be a grave error to see only this one aspect of religion, or even to exaggerate its importance. When a rite serves only as a distraction, it is no longer a rite. The moral forces expressed by religious symbols are real forces. We must reckon with them and cannot do whatever we like with them. Even when worship aims only to affect the mind, not to produce physical effects, it works very differently from pure art. Worship seeks to awaken and maintain certain ideas in our minds. These ideas are not empty images with no basis in reality. We do not call them up aimlessly just to enjoy watching them appear and combine before our eyes. They are as necessary to the proper functioning of our moral life as food is to our physical life. Through them, the group affirms and sustains itself, and we know how indispensable this is for the individual. So a rite is different from a game. It is part of serious life. But although the unreal and imaginary element of a rite is not essential, it still plays a significant part. It contributes to the comfort a worshipper draws from performing the rite. Recreation is one form of the moral renewal that is the main purpose of a positive rite. After fulfilling our ritual duties, we return to everyday life with greater courage and enthusiasm. This is partly because we have come into contact with a higher source of energy. But our strength has also been renewed by spending a few moments in a life that is less strained, freer, and easier. In this way, religion gains a charm that is by no means one of its least attractions.

This is why the very idea of a religious ceremony of some importance awakens the idea of a feast. Inversely, every feast, even when it has purely lay origins, has certain characteristics of the religious ceremony, for in every case its effect is to bring men together, to put the masses into movement and thus to excite a state of effervescence, and sometimes even of delirium, which is not without a certain kinship with the religious state. A man is carried outside himself and diverted from his ordinary occupation and preoccupations. Thus the same manifestations are to be observed in each case: cries, songs, music, violent movements, dances, the search for exciteants which raise the vital level, etc. It has frequently been remarked that popular feasts lead to excesses, and cause men to lose sight of the distinction separating the licit from the illicit;¹²²¹ there are also religious ceremonies which make it almost necessary to violate the rules which are ordinarily the most respected.¹²²² Of course this does not mean that there is no way to distinguish these two forms of public activity. The simple merry-making, the profane corrobbori, has no serious object, while, as a whole, a ritual ceremony always has an important end. Still it is to be remembered that there is perhaps no merry-making in which the serious life does not have some echo. The difference consists rather in the unequal proportions in which the two elements are combined.

This is why the very idea of an important religious ceremony brings a feast to mind. Conversely, every feast has some features of a religious ceremony, even when its origins are purely secular. In every case, a feast brings people together and sets the masses in motion. It creates a state of excitement, sometimes even delirium, that has some resemblance to a religious state. A person is carried outside themselves and away from their ordinary work and concerns. Thus, the same things can be seen in both cases: cries, songs, music, vigorous movements, dances, the search for stimulants that raise energy levels, and so on. People have often observed that popular feasts lead to excesses and cause people to lose sight of the distinction between what is permitted and what is forbidden.¹²²¹ Some religious ceremonies also make it almost necessary to break the rules that are usually most respected.¹²²² Of course, this does not mean that there is no way to distinguish these two forms of public activity. Simple merrymaking, the secular corrobbori, has no serious purpose, while a ritual ceremony, taken as a whole, always has an important aim. Still, we should remember that perhaps no merrymaking is entirely without an echo of serious life. The difference lies rather in the different proportions in which the two elements are combined.

A more general fact confirms the views which precede.

A more general fact supports the views just presented.

In their first book, Spencer and Gillen presented the Intichiuma as a perfectly definite ritual entity: they spoke of it as though it were an operation destined exclusively for the assurance of the reproduction of the totemic species, and it seemed as though it ought to lose all meaning, if this unique function were set aside. But in their Northern Tribes of Central Australia, the same authors use a different language, though perhaps without noticing it. They recognize that these same ceremonies may take place either in the regular Intichiuma or in the initiation rites.¹²²³ So they serve equally in the making of animals or plants of the totemic species, or in conferring upon novices the qualities necessary to make them regular members of the men's society.¹²²⁴ From this point of view, the Intichiuma takes on a new aspect. It is no longer a distinct ritual mechanism, resting upon principles of its own, but a particular application of more general ceremonies which may be utilized for very different ends. For this reason, in their later work, before speaking of the Intichiuma and the initiation they consecrate a special chapter to the totemic ceremonies in general, making abstraction of the diverse forms which they may take, according to the ends for which they are employed.¹²²⁵

In their first book, Spencer and Gillen presented the Intichiuma as a clearly defined ritual. They described it as a rite intended solely to ensure the reproduction of the totemic species. It seemed that the Intichiuma would lose all meaning if this single function were set aside. But in Northern Tribes of Central Australia, the same authors describe it differently, though perhaps without noticing the change. They recognize that these same ceremonies may take place during either the regular Intichiuma or the initiation rites.¹²²³ So the ceremonies serve equally to produce animals or plants of the totemic species and to give novices the qualities needed to become full members of the men's society.¹²²⁴ Seen in this light, the Intichiuma takes on a new aspect. It is no longer a distinct ritual mechanism based on its own principles. Instead, it is a particular application of more general ceremonies that may be used for very different purposes. For this reason, in their later work, the authors devote a special chapter to totemic ceremonies in general before discussing the Intichiuma and initiation. In that chapter, they set aside the different forms these ceremonies may take according to their purposes.¹²²⁵

This fundamental indetermination of the totemic ceremonies was only indicated by Spencer and Gillen, and rather indirectly at that; but it has now been confirmed by Strehlow in more explicit terms. "When they lead the young novices through the different feasts of the initiation," he says, "they perform before them a series of ceremonies which, though reproducing, even in their most characteristic details, the rites of the regular cult (viz. the rites which Spencer and Gillen call the Intichiuma), do not have, nevertheless, the end of multiplying the corresponding totem and causing it to prosper."¹²²⁶ It is the same ceremony which serves in the two cases; the name alone is not the same. When its special object is the reproduction of the species, they call it mbatjalkatiuma and it is only when it is a part of the process of initiation that they give it the name Intichiuma.¹²²⁷

Spencer and Gillen only hinted, rather indirectly, at this fundamental lack of a fixed purpose in totemic ceremonies. But Strehlow has now confirmed it more explicitly. "When they lead the young novices through the different initiation feasts," he says, "they perform a series of ceremonies before them. These ceremonies reproduce even the most characteristic details of the rites of the regular cult (the rites which Spencer and Gillen call the Intichiuma). Yet their purpose is not to multiply the corresponding totem and make it prosper."¹²²⁶ The same ceremony serves both purposes. Only the name changes. When its specific purpose is to reproduce the species, they call it mbatjalkatiuma. They call it Intichiuma only when it is part of initiation.¹²²⁷

Moreover, these two sorts of ceremonies are distinguished from one another among the Arunta by certain secondary characteristics. Though the structure of the rite is the same in both cases, still we know that the effusions of blood and, more generally, the oblations characteristic of the Arunta Intichiuma are not found in the initiation ceremonies. Moreover, among this same people, the Intichiuma takes place at a spot regularly fixed by tradition, to which men must make a pilgrimage, while the scene of the initiation ceremonies is purely conventional.¹²²⁸ But when the Intichiuma consists in a simple dramatic representation, as is the case among the Warramunga, the lack of distinction between the two rites is complete. In the one as in the other, they commemorate the past, they put the myth into action, they play—and one cannot play in two materially different ways. So, according to the circumstances, one and the same ceremony serves two distinct functions.¹²²⁹

Among the Arunta, these two kinds of ceremonies also differ in certain secondary ways. Although both rites have the same structure, the initiation ceremonies do not include the bloodletting or, more generally, the offerings characteristic of the Arunta Intichiuma. The Arunta also hold the Intichiuma at a place fixed by tradition, to which men must make a pilgrimage. By contrast, the location of the initiation ceremonies is simply a matter of convention.¹²²⁸ But when the Intichiuma consists of a simple dramatic performance, as it does among the Warramunga, there is no distinction between the two rites. Both commemorate the past and act out the myth. Both are forms of play, and people cannot play in two materially different ways. So, depending on the circumstances, one and the same ceremony serves two distinct functions.¹²²⁹

It may even lend itself to other uses. We know that as blood is a sacred thing, women must not see it flow. Yet it happens sometimes that a quarrel breaks out in their presence and ends in the shedding of blood. Thus an infraction of the ritual is committed. Among the Arunta, the man whose blood flowed first must, to atone for this fault, "celebrate a ceremony connected with the totem either of his father or of his mother";¹²³⁰ this ceremony has a special name, Alua uparilima, which means the washing away of blood. But in itself, it does not differ from those celebrated at the time of the initiation or in the Intichiuma: it represents an event of ancestral history. So it may serve equally to initiate, to act upon the totemic species or to expiate a sacrilege. We shall see that a totemic ceremony may also take the place of a funeral rite.¹²³¹

It may also serve other purposes. We know that blood is sacred, so women must not see it flow. Yet sometimes a quarrel breaks out in their presence and blood is shed. This breaks a ritual rule. Among the Arunta, the man whose blood was shed first must atone for this violation. He must "celebrate a ceremony connected with the totem either of his father or of his mother".¹²³⁰ This ceremony has a special name, Alua uparilima, which means the washing away of blood. But the ceremony itself is no different from those performed during initiation or the Intichiuma: it represents an event in ancestral history. So it may serve equally to initiate, to act upon the totemic species, or to atone for a sacrilege. We shall see that a totemic ceremony may also take the place of a funeral rite.¹²³¹

MM. Hubert and Mauss have already pointed out a functional ambiguity of this same sort in the case of sacrifice, and more especially, in that of Hindu sacrifice.¹²³² They have shown how the sacrifice of communion, that of expiation, that of a vow and that of a contract are only variations of one and the same mechanism. We now see that the fact is much more primitive, and in no way limited to the institution of sacrifice. Perhaps no rite exists which does not present a similar indetermination. The mass serves for marriages as for burials; it redeems the faults of the dead and wins the favours of the deity for the living, etc. Fasting is an expiation and a penance; but it is also a preparation for communion; it even confers positive virtues. This ambiguity shows that the real function of a rite does not consist in the particular and definite effects which it seems to aim at and by which it is ordinarily characterized, but rather in a general action which, though always and everywhere the same, is nevertheless capable of taking on different forms according to the circumstances. Now this is just what is demanded by the theory which we have proposed. If the real function of the cult is to awaken within the worshippers a certain state of soul, composed of moral force and confidence, and if the various effects imputed to the rites are due only to a secondary and variable determination of this fundamental state, it is not surprising if a single rite, while keeping the same composition and structure, seems to produce various effects. For the mental dispositions, the excitation of which is its permanent function, remain the same in every case; they depend upon the fact that the group is assembled, and not upon the special reasons for which it is assembled. But, on the other hand, they are interpreted differently according to the circumstances to which they are applied. Is it a physical result which they wish to obtain? The confidence they feel convinces them that the desired result is or will be obtained by the means employed. Has some one committed a fault for which he wishes to atone? The same state of moral assurance will lead him to attribute expiatory virtues to these same ritual gestures. Thus, the apparent efficacy will seem to change while the real efficacy remains invariable, and the rite will seem to fulfil various functions though in fact it has only one, which is always the same.

Hubert and Mauss have already pointed out a similar ambiguity in the function of sacrifice, especially Hindu sacrifice.¹²³² They have shown that sacrifices of communion, expiation, vows, and contracts are only variations of the same mechanism. We now see that this ambiguity is much more primitive and is not limited to sacrifice. Perhaps every rite has a similar lack of a fixed purpose. Mass serves for marriages as well as funerals. It redeems the sins of the dead and wins the deity’s favor for the living, and so on. Fasting is an act of expiation and penance, but it also prepares people for communion. It even gives them positive virtues. This ambiguity shows that a rite’s real function does not lie in the particular, definite effects it seems to pursue. These effects are what usually define the rite. Instead, its real function lies in a general action. Though always and everywhere the same, this action can take different forms according to the circumstances. This is just what our theory requires. If worship’s real function is to awaken a certain state of mind in worshippers, that state consists of moral strength and confidence. And if the various effects attributed to rites result only from secondary and variable forms of this basic state, the following is not surprising. A single rite can seem to produce different effects while keeping the same composition and structure. A rite’s permanent function is to awaken certain mental attitudes, and these remain the same in every case. They depend on the group’s gathering, not on the particular reasons for the gathering. But people interpret these attitudes differently according to the circumstances in which they apply them. Do people wish to obtain a physical result? Their confidence convinces them that the means they use have produced or will produce the desired result. Has someone committed a fault that he wishes to atone for? The same state of moral assurance will lead him to believe that these same ritual actions can bring expiation. Thus, the rite’s apparent effectiveness will seem to change, while its real effectiveness remains the same. The rite will seem to serve various functions, though in fact it has only one, which is always the same.

Inversely, just as a single rite may serve many ends, so many rites may produce the same effect and mutually replace one another. To assure the reproduction of the totemic species, one may have recourse equally to oblations, to imitative practices or to commemorative representations. This aptitude of rites for substituting themselves for one another proves once more both their plasticity and the extreme generality of the useful action which they exercise. The essential thing is that men are assembled, that sentiments are felt in common and expressed in common acts; but the particular nature of these sentiments and acts is something relatively secondary and contingent. To become conscious of itself, the group does not need to perform certain acts in preference to all others. The necessary thing is that it partakes of the same thought and the same action; the visible forms in which this communion takes place matter but little. Of course, these external forms do not come by chance; they have their reasons; but these reasons do not touch the essential part of the cult.

Conversely, just as a single rite may serve many purposes, many rites may produce the same effect and replace one another. To ensure the reproduction of the totemic species, people may use offerings, imitative practices, or commemorative representations. This ability of rites to replace one another again shows their flexibility. It also shows how general their beneficial effects are. What matters is that people gather, feel shared sentiments, and express them through shared actions. The particular nature of these sentiments and actions is relatively secondary and contingent. To become aware of itself, the group does not need to perform any particular acts rather than others. What is necessary is that the group shares the same thought and action. The visible forms this communion takes matter little. Of course, these outward forms do not arise by chance. There are reasons for them, but those reasons do not affect the essential part of the cult.

So everything leads us back to this same idea: before all, rites are means by which the social group reaffirms itself periodically. From this, we may be able to reconstruct hypothetically the way in which the totemic cult should have arisen originally. Men who feel themselves united, partially by bonds of blood, but still more by a community of interest and tradition, assemble and become conscious of their moral unity. For the reasons which we have set forth, they are led to represent this unity in the form of a very special kind of consubstantiality: they think of themselves as all participating in the nature of some determined animal. Under these circumstances, there is only one way for them to affirm their collective existence: this is to affirm that they are like the animals of this species, and to do so not only in the silence of their own thoughts, but also by material acts. These are the acts which make up the cult, and they obviously can consist only in movements by which the man imitates the animal with which he identifies himself. When understood thus, the imitative rites appear as the first form of the cult. It will be thought that this is attributing a very considerable historical importance to practices which, at first view, give the effect of childish games. But, as we have shown, these naïve and awkward gestures and these crude processes of representation translate and maintain a sentiment of pride, confidence and veneration wholly comparable to that expressed by the worshippers in the most idealistic religions when, being assembled, they proclaim themselves the children of the almighty God. For in the one case as in the other, this sentiment is made up of the same impressions of security and respect which are awakened in individual consciousnesses by this great moral force which dominates them and sustains them, and which is the collective force.

Everything leads us back to the same idea: above all, rites are ways for a social group to reaffirm itself periodically. From this, we may be able to reconstruct how the totemic cult originally arose. This reconstruction would be hypothetical. Men who feel united gather together and become aware of their moral unity. They feel united partly by blood ties, but even more by shared interests and traditions. For the reasons we have explained, they come to imagine this unity as a very special kind of shared substance. They think of themselves as all sharing the nature of a particular animal. Under these circumstances, they have only one way to affirm their collective existence. They must affirm that they are like the animals of that species. They must do so not only silently in their thoughts, but also through physical acts. These acts make up the cult. They can obviously consist only of movements in which each man imitates the animal with which he identifies himself. Understood in this way, imitative rites appear to be the first form of the cult. Some may think this gives great historical importance to practices that seem at first like children's games. But, as we have shown, these naive and awkward gestures and crude forms of representation express and sustain a sentiment of pride, confidence, and reverence. This sentiment is entirely comparable to the one expressed by worshippers in the most idealistic religions. When they gather, they proclaim themselves children of the almighty God. In both cases, the sentiment is made up of the same feelings of security and respect. These feelings are awakened in individuals by a great moral force that both dominates and sustains them. That force is the collective force.

The other rites which we have been studying are probably only variations of this essential rite. When the close union of the animal and men has once been admitted, men feel acutely the necessity of assuring the regular reproduction of the principal object of the cult. These imitative practices, which probably had only a moral end at first, thus became subordinated to utilitarian and material ends, and they were thought of as means of producing the desired result. But proportionately as, through the development of mythology, the ancestral hero, who was at first confused with the totemic animal, distinguished himself more and more, and became a more personal figure, the imitation of the ancestor was substituted for the imitation of the animal, or took a place beside it, and then representative ceremonies replaced or completed the imitative rites. Finally, to be surer of attaining the end they sought, men felt the need of putting into action all the means at their disposal. Close at hand they had reserves of living forces accumulated in the sacred rocks, so they utilized them; since the blood of the men was of the same nature as that of the animal, they used it for the same purpose and shed it. Inversely, owing to this same kinship, men used the flesh of the animal to remake their own substance. Hence came the rites of oblation and communion. But, at bottom, all these different practices are only variations of one and the same theme: everywhere their basis is the same state of mind, interpreted differently according to the situations, the moments of history and the dispositions of the worshippers.

The other rites we have studied are probably only variations of this essential rite. Once people accepted the close bond between the animal and humans, they felt a strong need to ensure that the main object of their cult reproduced regularly. These imitative practices probably had only a moral purpose at first. They then became a means to practical and material ends, and people believed they could produce the desired result. But as mythology developed, the ancestral hero became increasingly distinct from the totemic animal, with which he had initially been identified. He became a more individual figure. As a result, imitating the ancestor replaced or took a place beside imitating the animal. Representative ceremonies then replaced or supplemented the imitative rites. Finally, to be more certain of achieving their goal, people felt the need to use every means available. Nearby, they had reserves of living forces stored in sacred rocks, so they used them. They also used human blood for the same purpose and shed it, since it was of the same nature as the animal’s blood. Conversely, because of this same kinship, people used the animal’s flesh to remake their own substance. From these practices came the rites of oblation and communion. But, at their core, all these practices are only variations on the same theme. The same state of mind underlies them all, though it is interpreted differently according to the situation, the period in history, and the attitudes of the worshippers.