Origins of These Beliefs: Examining Earlier Theories

Chapter 5

Origins of These Beliefs: Examining Earlier Theories

31 min

The beliefs which we have just summarized are manifestly of a religious nature, since they imply a division of things into sacred and profane. It is certain that there is no thought of spiritual beings, and in the course of our exposition we have not even had occasion to pronounce the words, spirits, genii or divine personalities. But if certain writers, of whom we shall have something more to say presently, have, for this reason, refused to regard totemism as a religion, it is because they have an inexact notion of what religious phenomena are.

The beliefs we have just summarized are clearly religious because they divide things into sacred and profane. Certainly, they contain no idea of spiritual beings. In describing them, we have not even had occasion to use the words spirits, genii, or divine personalities. But some writers have refused to regard totemism as a religion for this reason. We will have more to say about these writers shortly. Their refusal rests on an inaccurate idea of what religious phenomena are.

On the other hand, we are assured that this religion is the most primitive one that is now observable and even, in all probability, that has ever existed. In fact, it is inseparable from a social organization on a clan basis. Not only is it impossible, as we have already pointed out, to define it except in connection with the clan, but it even seems as though the clan could not exist, in the form it has taken in a great number of Australian societies, without the totem. For the members of a single clan are not united to each other either by a common habitat or by common blood, as they are not necessarily consanguineous and are frequently scattered over different parts of the tribal territory. Their unity comes solely from their having the same name and the same emblem, their believing that they have the same relations with the same categories of things, their practising the same rites, or, in a word, from their participating in the same totemic cult. Thus totemism and the clan mutually imply each other, in so far, at least, as the latter is not confounded with the local group. Now the social organization on a clan basis is the simplest which we know. In fact, it exists in all its essential elements from the moment when the society includes two primary clans; consequently, we may say that there are none more rudimentary, as long as societies reduced to a single clan have not been discovered, and we believe that up to the present no traces of such have been found. A religion so closely connected to a social system surpassing all others in simplicity may well be regarded as the most elementary religion we can possibly know. If we succeed in discovering the origins of the beliefs which we have just analysed, we shall very probably discover at the same time the causes leading to the rise of the religious sentiment in humanity.

On the other hand, we are assured that this religion is the most primitive now observable. It is also, in all probability, the most primitive religion that has ever existed. In fact, it cannot be separated from a social organization based on clans. As we have already pointed out, it cannot be defined except in connection with the clan. It even seems that the clan could not exist without the totem, at least in its form in many Australian societies. Members of a single clan are united neither by a common home nor by common blood. They are not necessarily related by blood and are often scattered across different parts of the tribal territory. Their unity comes solely from sharing a name and an emblem. They also believe they have the same relations with the same categories of things, and they practice the same rites. In short, their unity comes from participating in the same totemic cult. Thus, totemism and the clan each imply the other, at least when the clan is not confused with the local group. Now, social organization based on clans is the simplest we know. In fact, all its essential elements are present as soon as a society includes two primary clans. We may therefore say that no social organization is more rudimentary, as long as no society consisting of a single clan has been discovered. We believe that, so far, no traces of such a society have been found. This religion is closely connected to a social system simpler than all others. It may therefore be regarded as the most elementary religion we can possibly know. If we succeed in discovering the origins of the beliefs we have just analyzed, we will very likely discover something else as well. We will discover the causes that gave rise to religious feeling in humanity.

But before treating this question for ourselves, we must examine the most authorized solutions of it which have already been proposed.

But before we address this question ourselves, we must examine the most authoritative answers already proposed.

I

I

In the first place, we find a group of scholars who believe that they can account for totemism by deriving it from some previous religion.

First, some scholars believe they can explain totemism by tracing it back to an earlier religion.

For Tylor and Wilken, totemism is a special form of the cult of the ancestors; it was the widespread doctrine of the transmigration of souls that served as a bridge between these two religious systems. A large number of peoples believe that after death, the soul does not remain disincarnate for ever, but presently animates another living body; on the other hand, "the lower psychology, drawing no definite line of demarcation between the souls of men and of beasts, can at least admit without difficulty the transmigration of human souls into the bodies of the lower animals." Tylor cites a certain number of cases. Under these circumstances, the religious respect inspired by the ancestor is quite naturally attached to the animal or plant with which he is presently confounded. The animal thus serving as a receptacle for a venerated being becomes a holy thing, the object of a cult, that is, a totem, for all the descendants of the ancestor, who form the clan descended from him.

For Tylor and Wilken, totemism is a special form of ancestor worship. The widespread belief in the transmigration of souls served as a bridge between these two religious systems. Many peoples believe that after death, the soul does not remain without a body forever. Instead, it soon enters another living body. At the same time, "more primitive psychology draws no clear line between human and animal souls. It can therefore readily accept that human souls pass into the bodies of lower animals." Tylor cites several examples. Under these circumstances, the religious respect inspired by an ancestor naturally comes to be attached to the animal or plant identified with him. The animal that serves as a vessel for a revered being becomes sacred and an object of worship. In other words, it becomes a totem for all the ancestor's descendants, who together form the clan descended from him.

Primitive Culture, I, p. 402, II, p. 237. Remarks on Totemism, with especial reference to some modern theories concerning it, in J.A.I., XXVIII, and I, New Series, p. 138.

Het Animisme bij den Volken van den indischen Archipel, pp. 69-75.

Tylor, Primitive Culture, II, p. 6.

Tylor, ibid., II, pp. 6-18.

Facts pointed out by Wilken among the societies of the Malay Archipelago would tend to prove that it really was in this manner that the totemic beliefs originated. In Java and Sumatra, crocodiles are especially honoured; they are regarded as benevolent protectors who must not be killed; offerings are made to them. Now the cult thus rendered to them is due to their being supposed to incarnate the souls of ancestors. The Malays of the Philippines consider the crocodile their grandfather; the tiger is treated in the same way for the same reasons. Similar beliefs have been observed among the Bantous. In Melanesia it sometimes happens that an influential man, at the moment of death, announces his desire to reincarnate himself in a certain animal or plant; it is easily understood how the object thus chosen as his posthumous residence becomes sacred for his whole family. So, far from being a primitive fact, totemism would seem to be the product of a more complex religion which preceded it.

Facts Wilken noted among societies in the Malay Archipelago suggest that totemic beliefs did indeed originate in this way. In Java and Sumatra, crocodiles are especially honored. They are regarded as benevolent protectors and must not be killed. People make offerings to them. Crocodiles receive this worship because they are believed to embody the souls of ancestors. The Malays of the Philippines consider the crocodile their grandfather. They treat the tiger in the same way for the same reasons. Similar beliefs have been observed among the Bantous. In Melanesia, an influential man sometimes announces at the moment of death that he wishes to be reincarnated as a particular animal or plant. It is easy to see how the animal or plant chosen as his dwelling after death becomes sacred to his whole family. So, far from being a primitive fact, totemism would seem to be the product of an earlier, more complex religion.

G. McCall Theal, Records of South-Eastern Africa, VII. We know this work only through Frazer's article South African Totemism, published in Man, 1901, No. III.

Codrington, The Melanesians, pp. 32 f., and a personal letter from Codrington, cited by Tylor in J.A.I., XXVIII, p. 147.

This is essentially the solution Wundt adopted (Mythus und Religion, II, p. 269).

But the societies from which these facts were taken had already arrived at a rather advanced stage of culture; in any case, they had passed the stage of pure totemism. They have families and not totemic clans. Even the majority of the animals to which religious honours are thus rendered are venerated, not by special groups of families, but by the tribes as a whole. So if these beliefs and practices do have some connection with ancient totemic cults, they now represent only altered forms of them and are consequently not very well fitted for showing us their origins. It is not by studying an institution at the moment when it is in full decadence that we can learn how it was formed. If we want to know how totemism originated, it is neither in Java nor Sumatra nor Melanesia that we must study it, but in Australia. Here we find neither a cult of the dead nor the doctrine of transmigration. Of course they believe that the mythical heroes, the founders of the clan, reincarnate themselves periodically; but this is in human bodies only; each birth, as we shall see, is the product of one of these reincarnations. So if the animals of the totemic species are the object of rites, it is not because the ancestral souls are believed to reside in them. It is true that the first ancestors are frequently represented under the form of an animal, and this very common representation is an important fact for which we must account; but it was not the belief in metempsychosis which gave it birth, for this belief is unknown among Australian societies.

But the societies from which these facts were drawn had already reached a fairly advanced stage of culture. In any case, they had moved beyond pure totemism. They have families, not totemic clans. Most of the animals given religious honors are revered by whole tribes, not by particular groups of families. So, if these beliefs and practices are connected to ancient totemic cults, they now represent only altered forms of them. As a result, they are not very useful for revealing the origins of those cults. We cannot learn how an institution formed by studying it when it is in full decline. If we want to know how totemism originated, we must study it in Australia, not in Java, Sumatra, or Melanesia. In Australia, we find neither a cult of the dead nor the doctrine of transmigration. Of course, people believe that the mythical heroes who founded the clan are periodically reincarnated. But they are reincarnated only in human bodies. As we shall see, each birth is the result of one of these reincarnations. So, if animals of the totemic species are the objects of rites, it is not because ancestral souls are believed to dwell in them. It is true that the first ancestors are often represented as animals. This very common representation is an important fact that we must explain. But the belief in metempsychosis did not give rise to it, because Australian societies do not know this belief.

It is true that, in Tylor's theory, a clan is simply an enlarged family. So, in his theory, whatever may be said of one group applies to the other (J.A.I., XXVIII, p. 157). But this idea is highly questionable. Only the clan presupposes a totem, which has its full meaning only in and through the clan.

For the same idea, see A. Lang, Social Origins, p. 150.

See above, p. 63.

Moreover, far from being able to explain totemism, this belief takes for granted one of the fundamental principles upon which this rests; that is to say, it begs the question to be explained. It, just as much as totemism, implies that man is considered a close relative of the animal; for if these two kingdoms were clearly distinguished in the mind, men would never believe that a human soul could pass so easily from one into the other. It is even necessary that the body of the animal be considered its true home, for it is believed to go there as soon as it regains its liberty. Now while the doctrine of transmigration postulates this singular affinity, it offers no explanation of it. The only explanation offered by Tylor is that men sometimes resemble in certain traits the anatomy and physiology of the animal. "The half-human features and actions and characters of animals are watched with wondering sympathy by the savage, as by the child. The beast is the very incarnation of familiar qualities of man: and such names as lion, bear, fox, owl, parrot, viper, worm, when we apply them as epithets to men, condense into a word some leading features of a human life." But even if these resemblances are met with, they are uncertain and exceptional; before all else, men resemble their relatives and companions, and not plants and animals. Such rare and questionable analogies could not overcome such unanimous proofs, nor could they lead a man to think of himself and his forefathers in forms contradicted by daily experience. So this question remains untouched, and as long as it is not answered, we cannot say that totemism is explained.

Moreover, rather than explaining totemism, this belief assumes one of its fundamental principles. In other words, it assumes what needs to be explained. Like totemism, this belief implies that humans are considered close relatives of animals. If humans and animals were clearly separated in people’s minds, people would never believe that a human soul could pass so easily between them. The animal’s body must even be considered the soul’s true home. For people believe the soul goes there as soon as it regains its freedom. The doctrine of transmigration assumes this unusual kinship, but it offers no explanation for it. Tylor’s only explanation is that humans sometimes resemble animals in certain physical and physiological traits. "The savage, like the child, watches the partly human features, actions, and characters of animals with wonder and sympathy. The animal embodies familiar human qualities. When we apply names such as lion, bear, fox, owl, parrot, viper, and worm to people, each name sums up some leading features of a human life in a single word." But even where these similarities exist, they are uncertain and exceptional. Above all, people resemble their relatives and companions, not plants and animals. Such rare and questionable similarities could not outweigh such consistent evidence. Nor could they lead a person to imagine himself and his ancestors in forms that contradicted daily experience. So the question remains unanswered. As long as it remains unanswered, we cannot say that totemism has been explained.

Primitive Culture, II, p. 17.

Wundt, who revived the main points of Tylor’s theory, tried to explain this mysterious relationship between humans and animals differently. He suggested that it arose from the sight of a decomposing corpse. When people saw worms coming out of the body, they thought the soul had entered the worms and escaped with them. Worms, and by extension reptiles (snakes, lizards, etc.), were therefore the first animals thought to hold the souls of the dead. As a result, they were also the first to be venerated and to serve as totems. Only later were other animals, plants, and even inanimate objects raised to the same status.

But there is not even a shadow of proof for this hypothesis. Wundt claims (Mythus und Religion, II, p. 296) that reptiles are much more common as totems than other animals. From this, he concludes that they are the most primitive. But we cannot see what justifies this claim. Wundt cites no facts to support it. Lists of totems collected in Australia and America do not show that any particular species of animal has played a predominant role. Totems vary from region to region with the local plants and animals. Moreover, if the range of possible totems was so limited at first, we cannot see how totemism could satisfy its fundamental principle. That principle says that the two clans or sub-clans of a tribe must have two different totems.

Finally, this whole theory rests upon a fundamental misunderstanding. For Tylor as for Wundt, totemism is only a particular case of the cult of animals. But we, on the contrary, know that it is something very different from a sort of animal-worship. The animal is never adored; the man is nearly its equal and sometimes even treats it as his possession, so far is he from being subordinate to it like a believer before his god. If the animals of the totemic species are really believed to incarnate the ancestors, the members of foreign clans would not be allowed to eat their flesh freely. In reality, it is not to the animal as such that the cult is addressed, but to the emblem and the image of the totem. Now between this religion of the emblem and the ancestor-cult, there is no connection whatsoever.

Finally, this whole theory rests on a fundamental misunderstanding. For both Tylor and Wundt, totemism is simply one form of animal worship. But we know, on the contrary, that totemism is something very different from animal worship. The animal is never worshipped. The person is nearly the animal’s equal and sometimes even treats it as a possession. The person is far from being subordinate to the animal, as a believer is to his god. If animals of the totemic species were really believed to embody the ancestors, members of other clans would not be allowed to eat their flesh freely. In fact, the worship is directed not at the animal itself, but at the emblem and image of the totem. There is no connection whatsoever between this worship of the emblem and ancestor worship.

"Sometimes men adore certain animals," says Tylor, "because they regard them as the reincarnation of the divine souls of the ancestors; this belief is a sort of bridge between the cult rendered to shades and that rendered to animals" (Primitive Culture, II, p. 805, cf. 309, in fine). Similarly, Wundt treats totemism as a branch of animalism (II, p. 234).

See above, p. 139.

While Tylor derives totemism from the ancestor-cult, Jevons derives it from the nature-cult, and here is how he does so.

While Tylor traces totemism to ancestor worship, Jevons traces it to nature worship. Here is how Jevons does so.

Introduction to the History of Religions, pp. 97 ff.

When, under the impulse of the surprise occasioned by the irregularities observed in the course of phenomena, men had once peopled the world with supernatural beings, they felt the need of making agreements with these redoubtable forces with which they had surrounded themselves. They understood that the best way to escape being overwhelmed by them was to ally themselves to some of them, and thus make sure of their aid. But at this period of history men knew no other form of alliance and association than the one resulting from kinship. All the members of a single clan aid each other mutually because they are kindred or, as amounts to the same thing, because they think they are; on the other hand, different clans treat each other as enemies because they are of different blood. So the only way of assuring themselves of the support of these supernatural beings was to adopt them as kindred and to be adopted by them in the same quality: the well-known processes of the blood-covenant permitted them to attain this result quite easily. But since at this period, the individual did not yet have a real personality, and was regarded only as a part of his group, or clan, it was the clan as a whole, and not the individual, which collectively contracted this relationship. For the same reason, it was contracted, not with a particular object, but with the natural group or species of which this object was a part; for men think of the world as they think of themselves, and just as they could not conceive themselves apart from their clans, so they were unable to conceive of anything else as distinct from the species to which it belonged. Now a species of things united to a clan by a bond of kinship is, says Jevons, a totem.

Surprised by the irregularities they observed in the course of events, people populated the world with supernatural beings. They then felt the need to make agreements with these formidable forces they had placed around themselves. They understood that the best way to avoid being overwhelmed was to ally themselves with some of these beings and secure their help. But at this point in history, people knew only one form of alliance and association: kinship. All members of a clan help one another because they are related, or, what amounts to the same thing, because they believe they are. Different clans, on the other hand, treat one another as enemies because they are of different blood. So the only way to secure the support of supernatural beings was to adopt them as relatives and be adopted by them in return. The familiar practices of the blood covenant made this quite easy. But at this point, the individual did not yet have a real personality and was regarded only as part of a group or clan. So it was the clan as a whole, not the individual, that entered into this relationship. For the same reason, the relationship was not with a particular object, but with the natural group or species to which it belonged. People think of the world as they think of themselves. Just as they could not imagine themselves apart from their clans, they could not imagine anything else apart from its species. Now, according to Jevons, a species of things linked to a clan by kinship is a totem.

See above, p. 28.

In fact, it is certain that totemism implies the close association of a clan to a determined category of objects. But that this association was contracted with a deliberate design and in the full consciousness of an end sought after, as Jevons would have us believe, is a statement having but little harmony with what history teaches. Religions are too complex, and answer to needs that are too many and too obscure, to have their origin in a premeditated act of the will. And while it sins through over-simplicity, this hypothesis is also highly improbable. It says that men sought to assure themselves of the aid of the supernatural beings upon which things depend. Then they should preferably have addressed themselves to the most powerful of these, and to those whose protection promised to be the most beneficial. But quite on the contrary, the beings with whom they have formed this mystic kinship are often among the most humble which exist. Also, if it were only a question of making allies and defenders, they would have tried to make as many as possible; for one cannot be defended too well. Yet as a matter of fact, each clan systematically contents itself with a single totem, that is to say, with one single protector, leaving the other clans to enjoy their own in perfect liberty. Each group confines itself within its own religious domain, never seeking to trespass upon that of its neighbours. This reserve and moderation are inexplicable according to the hypothesis under consideration.

In fact, totemism certainly involves a close association between a clan and a particular category of objects. But Jevons would have us believe that the clan formed this association deliberately, with a clear purpose in mind. This claim hardly agrees with what history teaches. Religions are too complex, and meet too many needs that are too obscure, to originate in a deliberate act of will. This hypothesis is not only overly simple but also highly improbable. It claims that people sought the help of the supernatural beings on which things depend. If so, they should have turned to the most powerful beings, whose protection promised the greatest benefit. Yet, on the contrary, the beings with whom they formed this mystical kinship are often among the humblest in existence. Also, if people had merely wanted allies and defenders, they would have tried to gain as many as possible. After all, one cannot be too well defended. Yet, in fact, each clan consistently settles for a single totem, meaning a single protector. Each leaves the other clans entirely free to enjoy their own totems. Each group stays within its own religious domain, never trying to intrude on its neighbors’ domains. The hypothesis under consideration cannot explain this restraint and moderation.

Jevons himself acknowledges this, saying, "It is to be presumed that in the choice of an ally he would prefer ... the kind or species which possessed the greatest power" (p. 101).

II

II

Moreover, all these theories are wrong in omitting one question which dominates the whole subject. We have seen that there are two sorts of totemism: that of the individual and that of the clan. There is too evident a kinship between the two for them not to have some connection with each other. So we may well ask if one is not derived from the other, and, in the case of an affirmative answer, which is the more primitive; according to the solution accepted, the problem of the origins of totemism will be posed in different terms. This question becomes all the more necessary because of its general interest. Individual totemism is an individual aspect of the totemic cult. Then if it was the primitive fact, we must say that religion is born in the consciousness of the individual, that before all else, it answers to individual aspirations, and that its collective form is merely secondary.

Moreover, all these theories are wrong to omit one question that dominates the whole subject. We have seen that there are two kinds of totemism: individual totemism and clan totemism. The two are so obviously related that they must have some connection. So we may well ask whether one comes from the other. If so, which is more primitive? The answer changes how we frame the question of totemism’s origins. This question is all the more important because of its broader significance. Individual totemism is an individual aspect of totemic worship. So if individual totemism was the primitive form, we must say that religion begins in individual consciousness. We must also say that it responds first and foremost to individual aspirations, and that its collective form is merely secondary.

The desire for an undue simplicity, with which ethnologists and sociologists are too frequently inspired, has naturally led many scholars to explain, here as elsewhere, the complex by the simple, the totem of the group by that of the individual. Such, in fact, is the theory sustained by Frazer in his Golden Bough, by Hill Tout, by Miss Fletcher, by Boas and by Swanton. It has the additional advantage of being in harmony with the conception of religion which is currently held; this is quite generally regarded as something intimate and personal. From this point of view, the totem of the clan can only be an individual totem which has become generalized. Some eminent man, having found from experience the value of a totem he chose for himself by his own free will, transmitted it to his descendants; these latter, multiplying as time went on, finally formed the extended family known as a clan, and thus the totem became collective.

Ethnologists and sociologists too often seek undue simplicity. This has naturally led many scholars to explain the complex by the simple, here as elsewhere. They explain the group’s totem by the individual’s totem. Frazer supports this theory in his Golden Bough, as do Hill Tout, Miss Fletcher, Boas and Swanton. The theory has the additional advantage of fitting the common view of religion. Religion is generally regarded as something intimate and personal. From this point of view, the clan’s totem can only be an individual totem that has become widespread. Some prominent man freely chose a totem for himself and learned its value through experience. He then passed it on to his descendants. As they grew in number over time, they eventually formed the extended family known as a clan. In this way, the totem became collective.

2nd Edition, III, pp. 416 ff.; see especially p. 419, n. 5. In more recent articles, which will be analysed below, Frazer presents a different theory. But in his view, it does not completely rule out the theory in the Golden Bough.

The Origin of the Totemism of the Aborigines of British Columbia, in Proc. and Transact. of the Roy. Soc. of Canada, 2nd series, VII, § 2, pp. 3 ff. Also, Report on the Ethnology of the Statlumh, J.A.I., XXXV, p. 141. Hill Tout replies to various objections to his theory in Vol. IX of the Transact. of the Roy. Soc. of Canada, pp. 61 to 99.

Alice C. Fletcher, The Import of the Totem, in Smithsonian Report for 1897, pages 577 to 586.

The Kwakiutl Indians, pp. 323 ff., 336-338, 393.

The Development of the Clan System, in Amer. Anthrop., N.S. VI, 1904, pp. 477-486.

Hill Tout believes that he has found a proof supporting this theory in the way totemism has spread among certain societies of North-western America, especially among the Salish and certain Indians on the Thompson River. Individual totemism and the clan totemism are both found among these peoples; but they either do not co-exist in the same tribe, or else, when they do co-exist, they are not equally developed. They vary in an inverse proportion to each other; where the clan totem tends to become the general rule, the individual totem tends to disappear, and vice versa. Is that not as much as to say that the first is a more recent form of the second, which excludes it by replacing it? Mythology seems to confirm this interpretation. In these same societies, in fact, the ancestor of the clan is not a totemic animal; the founder of the group is generally represented in the form of a human being who, at a certain time, had entered into familiar relations with a fabulous animal from whom he received his totemic emblem. This emblem, together with the special powers which are attached to it, was then passed on to the descendants of this mythical hero by right of heritage. So these people themselves seem to consider the collective totem as an individual one, perpetuated in the same family. Moreover, it still happens to-day that a father transmits his own totem to his children. So if we imagine that the collective totem had, in a general way, this same origin, we are assuming that the same thing took place in the past which is still observable to-day.

Hill Tout believes he has found evidence for this theory in the spread of totemism among certain societies in North-western America. These include the Salish and certain Indians on the Thompson River. Both individual and clan totemism are found among these peoples. But the two forms either do not coexist in the same tribe or, when they do, are not equally developed. They vary inversely: where the clan totem tends to become the general rule, the individual totem tends to disappear, and vice versa. Does this not suggest that clan totemism is a newer form of individual totemism, which it replaces and excludes? Mythology seems to confirm this interpretation. In these same societies, the clan’s ancestor is not a totemic animal. The group’s founder is generally depicted as a human being who once formed a close relationship with a mythical animal. From this animal, he received his totemic emblem. The emblem and its associated special powers then passed by inheritance to the descendants of this mythical hero. So these people themselves seem to regard the collective totem as an individual totem passed down within the same family. Even today, a father sometimes passes his own totem on to his children. So if we suppose that the collective totem generally had the same origin, we are assuming that something still observed today also happened in the past.

J.A.I., XXXV, p. 142.

Ibid., p. 150. Cf. Vth Rep. on the ... N.W. Tribes of Canada, B.A.A.S., p. 24. A myth of this kind was quoted above.

J.A.I., XXXV, p. 147.

It is still to be explained whence the individual totem comes. The reply given to this question varies with different authors.

We still need to explain where the individual totem comes from. Different authors give different answers to this question.

Hill Tout considers it a particular case of fetishism. Feeling himself surrounded on all sides by dreaded spirits, the individual experienced that sentiment which we have just seen Jevons attribute to the clan: in order that he might continue to exist, he sought some powerful protector in this mysterious world. Thus the use of a personal totem became established. For Frazer, this same institution was rather a subterfuge or trick of war, invented by men that they might escape from certain dangers. It is known that according to a belief which is very widespread in a large number of inferior societies, the human soul is able, without great inconvenience, to quit the body it inhabits for a while; howsoever far away it may be, it continues to animate this body by a sort of detached control. Then, in certain critical moments, when life is supposed to be particularly menaced, it may be desirable to withdraw the soul from the body and lead it to some place or into some object where it will be in greater security. In fact, there are a certain number of practices whose object is to withdraw the soul in order to protect it from some danger, either real or imaginary. For example, at the moment when men are going to enter a newly-built house, a magician removes their souls and puts them in a sack, to be saved and returned to their proprietors after the door-sill has been crossed. This is because the moment when one enters a new house is exceptionally critical; one may have disturbed, and consequently offended, the spirits who reside in the ground and especially under the sill, and if precautions are not taken, these could make a man pay dearly for his audacity. But when this danger is once passed, and one has been able to anticipate their anger and even to make sure of their favour through the accomplishment of certain rites, the souls may safely retake their accustomed place. It is this same belief which gave birth to the personal totem. To protect themselves from sorcery, men thought it wise to hide their souls in the anonymous crowd of some species of animal or vegetable. But after these relations had once been established, each individual found himself closely united to the animal or plant where his own vital principle was believed to reside. Two beings so closely united were finally thought to be practically indistinguishable: men believed that each participated in the nature of the other. When this belief had once been accepted, it facilitated and hastened the transformation of the personal totem into an hereditary, and consequently a collective, totem; for it seemed quite evident that this kinship of nature should be transmitted hereditarily from father to child.

Hill Tout considers it a particular form of fetishism. Feeling surrounded on all sides by feared spirits, the individual felt what Jevons says the clan felt. To survive, he sought a powerful protector in this mysterious world. This is how the use of a personal totem became established. For Frazer, the same institution was instead a stratagem, invented by people to escape certain dangers. A widespread belief in many societies considered inferior holds that the human soul can temporarily leave the body without much inconvenience. However far away it may be, the soul continues to animate the body through a kind of remote control. At certain critical moments, when life is thought to be especially threatened, removing the soul may be desirable. It can be taken to a place or put in an object where it will be safer. In fact, a number of practices aim to remove the soul and protect it from some real or imaginary danger. For example, when men are about to enter a newly built house, a magician removes their souls. He puts the souls in a sack for safekeeping and returns them to their owners after they have crossed the threshold. This is because entering a new house is an especially critical moment. The men may have disturbed, and therefore offended, the spirits living in the ground, especially beneath the threshold. If precautions are not taken, these spirits could make a man pay dearly for his boldness. But once this danger has passed, the souls may safely return to their usual place. By then, the men will have been able to anticipate the spirits' anger and even secure their favor through certain rites. This same belief gave rise to the personal totem. To protect themselves from sorcery, people thought it wise to hide their souls among the countless members of an animal or plant species. But once these connections were established, each person found himself closely united to the animal or plant believed to house his own vital principle. Two beings so closely united eventually came to be seen as practically indistinguishable. People believed that each shared in the nature of the other. Once accepted, this belief made it easier and faster for the personal totem to become hereditary, and therefore collective. For it seemed quite obvious that this kinship in nature would be passed down from father to child.

Proc. and Transact., etc., VII, § 2, p. 12.

See The Golden Bough,2 III, pp. 351 ff. Wilken had already noted similar facts in De Simsonsage, in De Gids, 1890. He also noted them in De Betrekking tusschen Menschen-Dieren en Plantenleven, in Indische Gids, 1884, 1888, and in Ueber das Haaropfer, in Revue Coloniale Internationale, 1886-1887.

We shall not stop to discuss these two explanations of the individual totem at length: they are ingenious fabrications of the mind, but they completely lack all positive proof. If we are going to reduce totemism to fetishism, we must first establish that the latter is prior to the former; now, not merely is no fact brought forward to support this hypothesis, but it is even contradicted by everything that we know. The ill-determined group of rites going under the name of fetishism seem to appear only among peoples who have already attained to a certain degree of civilization; but it is a species of cult unknown in Australia. It is true that some have described the churinga as a fetish; but even supposing that this qualification were justified, it would not prove the priority which is postulated. Quite on the contrary, the churinga presupposes totemism, since it is essentially an instrument of the totemic cult and owes the virtues attributed to it to totemic beliefs alone.

We will not discuss these two explanations of the individual totem at length. They are ingenious inventions of the mind, but they lack any factual evidence. If we are to reduce totemism to fetishism, we must first establish that fetishism came before totemism. Yet no facts are offered to support this hypothesis. Indeed, everything we know contradicts it. The loosely defined group of rites called fetishism seems to appear only among peoples who have reached a certain degree of civilization. This kind of worship is unknown in Australia. Some have described the churinga as a fetish. But even if this description were justified, it would not prove that fetishism came first. On the contrary, the churinga presupposes totemism. It is essentially an instrument of totemic worship and owes all the powers attributed to it to totemic beliefs.

For example, see Eylmann, Die Eingeborenen der Kolonie Südaustralien, p. 199.

As for the theory of Frazer, it presupposes a thoroughgoing idiocy on the part of the primitive which known facts do not allow us to attribute to him. He does have a logic, however strange this may at times appear; now unless he were completely deprived of it, he could never be guilty of the reasoning imputed to him. Nothing could be more natural than that he should believe it possible to assure the survival of his soul by hiding it in a secret and inaccessible place, as so many heroes of myths and legends are said to have done. But why should he think it safer in the body of an animal than in his own? Of course, if it were thus lost in space, it might have a chance to escape the spells of a magician more readily, but at the same time it would be prepared for the blows of hunters. It is a strange way of sheltering it to place it in a material form exposing it to risks at every instant. But above all, it is inconceivable that a whole people should allow themselves to be carried into such an aberration. Finally, in a very large number of cases, the function of the individual totem is very different from that assigned it by Frazer; before all else, it is a means of conferring extraordinary powers upon magicians, hunters or warriors. As to the kinship of the man and the thing, with all the inconveniences it implies, it is accepted as a consequence of the rite; but it is not desired in its and for itself.

Frazer’s theory assumes that primitive people were utterly foolish, but the known facts do not support this assumption. They do have a logic, however strange it may sometimes seem. Unless they had no logic at all, they could never reason as Frazer claims they did. It would be natural for a person to believe he could ensure his soul’s survival by hiding it somewhere secret and inaccessible. Many heroes of myths and legends are said to have done just that. But why would he think his soul safer in an animal’s body than in his own? If his soul were out there in space, it might have a better chance of escaping a magician’s spells. But it would also be exposed to hunters’ blows. It is a strange way to shelter a soul, by placing it in a material form exposed to constant danger. Above all, it is inconceivable that an entire people would fall into such an error. Finally, in a great many cases, the individual totem has a very different function from the one Frazer assigns it. Above all, it is a means of giving extraordinary powers to magicians, hunters, or warriors. The kinship between a person and the thing, with all the difficulties it involves, is accepted as a consequence of the rite. But the kinship is not desired for its own sake.

Mrs. Parker says of the Euahlayi that if the Yunbeai does "confer exceptional force, it also exposes one to exceptional dangers, for all that hurts the animal wounds the man" (Euahlayi, p. 29).

In a later work (The Origin of Totemism, in The Fortnightly Review, May, 1899, pp. 844-845), Frazer raises this objection himself. "If," he says, "I deposit my soul in a hare, and my brother John (a member of another clan) shoots that hare, roasts and swallows it, what becomes of my soul? To meet this obvious danger it is necessary that John should know the state of my soul, and that, knowing it, he should, whenever he shoots a hare, take steps to extract and restore to me my soul before he cooks and dines upon the animal."

Frazer believes he has found this practice in Central Australia. Each year, a ceremony takes place when the new generation of animals reaches maturity. We shall describe the ceremony shortly. The first game killed is presented to men of that totem, who eat a little of it. Only then may men of the other clans eat it freely. Frazer says this returns to the men of that totem the souls they may have entrusted to these animals.

But this interpretation is entirely arbitrary. And even aside from that, it is hard not to find this way of avoiding the danger rather peculiar. The ceremony is held once a year. Many days may have passed since the animal was killed. What has happened during all that time to the soul the animal sheltered? And what has happened to the person whose life depended on that soul? But there is no need to dwell on all the inconceivable things in this explanation.

Parker, op. cit., p. 20. Howitt, Australian Medicine Men, in J.A.I., XVI, pp. 34, 49 f. Hill Tout, J.A.I., XXXV, p. 146.

There is still less occasion for delaying over this controversy since it concerns no real problem. What we must know before everything else is whether or not the individual totem is really a primitive fact, from which the collective totem was derived; for, according to the reply given to this question, we must seek the home of the religious life in one or the other of two opposite directions.

There is even less reason to spend time on this controversy because it concerns no real problem. First, we must know whether the individual totem is truly a primitive fact from which the collective totem developed. The answer determines which of two opposite directions we must follow to find the origin of religious life.

Against the hypothesis of Hill Tout, Miss Fletcher, Boas and Frazer there is such an array of decisive facts that one is surprised that it has been so readily and so generally accepted.

So many decisive facts contradict the hypothesis of Hill Tout, Miss Fletcher, Boas and Frazer. It is surprising that the hypothesis has been accepted so readily and so widely.

In the first place, we know that a man frequently has the greatest interest not only in respecting, but also in making his companions respect the species serving him as personal totem; his own life is connected with it. Then if collective totemism were only a generalized form of individual totemism, it too should repose upon this same principle. Not only should the men of a clan abstain from killing and eating their totem-animal themselves, but they should also do all in their power to force this same abstention upon others. But as a matter of fact, far from imposing such a renunciation upon the whole tribe, each clan, by rites which we shall describe below, takes care that the plant or animal whose name it bears shall increase and prosper, so as to assure an abundant supply of food for the other clans. So we must at least admit that in becoming collective, individual totemism was transformed profoundly, and we must therefore account for this transformation.

First, we know that a man often has a strong interest in respecting the species that serves as his personal totem. He also has a strong interest in making his companions respect it, because his own life is connected with it. Now, if collective totemism were only a generalized form of individual totemism, it too should rest on this principle. The men of a clan should not only avoid killing and eating their totem animal themselves. They should also do all they can to make others avoid killing and eating it. But in fact, each clan does far from requiring the whole tribe to abstain. Instead, each clan uses rites, which we will describe below, to ensure that the plant or animal whose name it bears increases and prospers. The clan does this to ensure an abundant food supply for the other clans. So we must at least admit that individual totemism changed profoundly as it became collective. We must therefore explain this change.

In the second place, how is it possible to explain, from this point of view, the fact that except where totemism is in full decay, two clans of a single tribe always have different totems? It seems that nothing prevents two or several members of a single tribe, even when there is no kinship between them, from choosing their personal totem in the same animal species and passing it on to their descendants. Does it not happen to-day that two distinct families have the same name? The carefully regulated way in which the totems and sub-totems are divided up, first between the two phratries and then among the various clans of the phratry, obviously presupposes a social agreement and a collective organization. This is as much as to say that totemism is something more than an individual practice spontaneously generalized.

Second, how can this view explain why two clans in the same tribe always have different totems, except where totemism is in complete decline? Nothing seems to prevent two or more members of a tribe from choosing personal totems from the same animal species. This seems possible even if they are not related, and they could pass those totems on to their descendants. After all, do two distinct families not have the same name today? Totems and sub-totems are divided in a carefully regulated way, first between the two phratries and then among the various clans within each phratry. This division clearly assumes social agreement and collective organization. In other words, totemism is more than an individual practice that spread spontaneously.

Moreover, collective totemism cannot be deduced from individual totemism except by a misunderstanding of the differences separating the two. The one is acquired by the child at birth; it is a part of his civil status. The other is acquired during the course of his life; it presupposes the accomplishment of a determined rite and a change of condition. Some seek to diminish this distance by inserting between the two, as a sort of middle term, the right of each possessor of a totem to transmit it to whomsoever he pleases. But wherever these transfers do take place, they are rare and relatively exceptional acts; they cannot be performed except by magicians or other personages invested with special powers; in any case, they are possible only through ritual ceremonies which bring about the change. So it is necessary to explain how this prerogative of a few became the right of all; how that which at first implied a profound change in the religious and moral constitution of the individual, was able to become an element of this constitution; and finally, how a transmission which at first was the consequence of a rite was later believed to operate automatically from the nature of things and without the intervention of any human will.

Moreover, collective totemism cannot be derived from individual totemism without misunderstanding the differences between them. A child acquires a collective totem at birth. It is part of the child’s civil status. An individual totem, by contrast, is acquired during a person’s life. It requires the performance of a specific rite and a change of condition. Some try to narrow this gap by introducing an intermediate step: the right of each totem holder to pass it on to anyone they choose. But wherever such transfers occur, they are rare and relatively exceptional. Only magicians or others with special powers can carry them out. In any case, transfers are possible only through ritual ceremonies that bring about the change. So we must explain how a privilege held by a few became a right held by all. We must explain how something that initially involved a profound change in a person’s religious and moral constitution became an element of that constitution. Finally, we must explain how a transfer that initially resulted from a rite later came to be seen as automatic, arising from the nature of things without any human will involved.

According to Hill Tout, "The gift or transmission (of a personal totem) can only be made or effected by certain persons, such as shamans, or those who possess great mystery power" (J.A.I., p. 146). Compare Langloh Parker, op. cit., pp. 29-30.

In support of his interpretation, Hill Tout claims that certain myths give the totem of the clan an individual origin: they tell how the totemic emblem was acquired by some special individual, who then transmitted it to his descendants. But in the first place, it is to be remarked that these myths are all taken from the Indian tribes of North America, which are societies arrived at a rather high degree of culture. How could a mythology so far removed from the origins of things aid in reconstituting the primitive form of an institution with any degree of certainty? There are many chances for intermediate causes to have gravely disfigured the recollection which these people have been able to retain. Moreover, it is very easy to answer these myths with others, which seem much more primitive and whose signification is quite different. The totem is there represented as the very being from whom the clan is descended. So it must be that it constitutes the substance of the clan; men have it within them from their birth; it is a part of their very flesh and blood, so far are they from having received it from without. More than that, the very myths upon which Hill Tout relies contain an echo of this ancient conception. The founder who gave his name to the clan certainly had a human form; but he was a man who, after living among animals of a certain species, finally came to resemble them. This is undoubtedly because a time came when the mind was too cultivated to admit any longer, as it had formerly done, that men might have been born of animals; so the animal ancestor, now become inconceivable, is replaced by a human being; but the idea persists that this man had acquired certain characteristics of the animal either by imitation or by some other process. Thus even this late mythology bears the mark of a more remote epoch when the totem of the clan was never regarded as a sort of individual creation.

To support his interpretation, Hill Tout claims that certain myths give the clan’s totem an individual origin. These myths tell how one particular person acquired the totemic emblem and then passed it on to his descendants. But first, all these myths come from North American Indian tribes, societies that have reached a fairly high degree of culture. How could a mythology so far removed from the origins of things help us reconstruct an institution’s primitive form with any certainty? Many intervening causes could have seriously distorted whatever memories these peoples retained. Moreover, it is easy to counter these myths with others that seem much more primitive and have a very different meaning. In these myths, the totem is the very being from whom the clan is descended. The totem must therefore be the substance of the clan. People have it within them from birth. Far from receiving it from outside, they have it as part of their very flesh and blood. What is more, even the myths Hill Tout relies on echo this ancient conception. The founder who gave the clan his name certainly had a human form. But he had lived among animals of a certain species and eventually came to resemble them. This is undoubtedly because, by then, people’s thinking had become too sophisticated to accept that humans could be born of animals, as they had once believed. The animal ancestor had become inconceivable, so a human being replaced it. But the idea remained that this man had acquired certain animal characteristics, either by imitation or by some other process. Thus even this later mythology bears the mark of an earlier age, when the clan’s totem was never regarded as a kind of individual creation.

Compare Hartland, Totemism and some recent Discoveries, in Folk-Lore, XI, pp. 59 ff.

But this hypothesis does not merely raise grave logical difficulties; it is contradicted directly by the following facts.

But this hypothesis not only raises serious logical problems. The following facts directly contradict it.

If individual totemism were the initial fact, it should be more developed and apparent, the more primitive the societies are, and inversely, it should lose ground and disappear before the other among the more advanced peoples. Now it is the contrary which is true. The Australian tribes are far behind those of North America; yet Australia is the classic land of collective totemism. In the great majority of the tribes, it alone is found, while we do not know a single one where individual totemism alone is practised. This latter is found in a characteristic form only in an infinitesimal number of tribes. Even where it is met with it is generally in a rudimentary form. It is made up of individual and optional practices having no generality. Only magicians are acquainted with the art of creating mysterious relationships with species of animals to which they are not related by nature. Ordinary people do not enjoy this privilege. In America, on the contrary, the collective totem is in full decadence; in the societies of the North-west especially, its religious character is almost gone. Inversely, the individual totem plays a considerable rôle among these same peoples. A very great efficacy is attributed to it; it has become a real public institution. This is because it is the sign of a higher civilization. This is undoubtedly the explanation of the inversion of these two forms of totemism, which Hill Tout believes he has observed among the Salish. If in those parts where collective totemism is the most fully developed the other form is almost lacking, it is not because the second has disappeared before the first, but rather, because the conditions necessary for its existence have not yet been fully realized.

If individual totemism were the original form, it should be more developed and visible in more primitive societies. Conversely, it should lose ground to collective totemism and disappear among more advanced peoples. In fact, the opposite is true. The Australian tribes are far behind those of North America, yet Australia is the classic home of collective totemism. In the great majority of Australian tribes, only collective totemism is found. We know of no tribe where individual totemism alone is practiced. Individual totemism takes a characteristic form in only a tiny number of tribes. Even where it is found, it is generally rudimentary. It consists of optional practices that individuals follow, with no general pattern. Only magicians know how to create mysterious relationships with animal species to which they are not naturally related. Ordinary people do not have this privilege. In America, by contrast, collective totemism is in full decline. Among the societies of the North-west especially, its religious character has almost disappeared. Individual totems, on the other hand, play a considerable role among these same peoples. People attribute great power to the individual totem, and it has become a genuine public institution. This is because it is a sign of a higher civilization. This undoubtedly explains the reversal of the two forms of totemism that Hill Tout believes he has observed among the Salish. Where collective totemism is most fully developed, individual totemism is almost absent. This is not because collective totemism has displaced it, but because the conditions necessary for individual totemism have not yet been fully realized.

Perhaps the Kurnai are an exception. But even in this tribe, there are sexual totems as well as personal ones.

Among the Wotjobaluk, the Buandik, the Wiradjuri, the Yuin, and the tribes around Maryborough (Queensland). See Howitt, Nat. Tr., pp. 114-147; Mathews, J. of the R. Soc. of N.S. Wales, XXXVIII, p. 291. Compare Thomas, Further Notes on Mr. Hill Tout's Views on Totemism, in Man, 1904, p. 85.

This applies to the Euahlayi and the cases of personal totemism cited by Howitt, Australian Medicine Men, in J.A.I., XVI, pp. 34, 35, 49-50.

But a fact which is still more conclusive is that individual totemism, far from having given birth to the totemism of the clan, presupposes this latter. It is within the frame of collective totemism that it is born and lives: it is an integral part of it. In fact, in those very societies where it is preponderating, the novices do not have the right of taking any animal as their individual totem; to each clan a certain definite number of species are assigned, outside of which it may not choose. In return, those belonging to it thus are its exclusive property; members of other clans may not usurp them. They are thought to have relations of close dependence upon the one serving as totem to the clan as a whole. There are even cases where it is quite possible to observe these relations: the individual aspect represents a part or a particular aspect of the collective totem. Among the Wotjobaluk, each member of the clan considers the personal totems of his companions as being his own after a fashion; so they are probably sub-totems. Now the sub-totem supposes the totem, as the species supposes the class. Thus the first form of individual religion met with in history appears, not as the active principle of all public religion, but, on the contrary, as a simple aspect of this latter. The cult which the individual organizes for himself in his own inner conscience, far from being the germ of the collective cult, is only this latter adapted to the personal needs of the individual.

But an even more conclusive fact is that individual totemism presupposes clan totemism, rather than giving rise to it. Individual totemism arises and exists within the framework of collective totemism. It is an essential part of it. Even in societies where individual totemism predominates, novices cannot choose just any animal as their personal totem. Each clan is assigned a fixed number of species, and its members cannot choose outside that group. In turn, those species belong exclusively to that clan. Members of other clans cannot claim them. These species are thought to be closely dependent on the species that serves as the clan’s collective totem. In some cases, these relationships can actually be observed. The individual totem represents a part or a particular aspect of the collective totem. Among the Wotjobaluk, each clan member regards the personal totems of fellow members as, in a way, their own. These personal totems are therefore probably sub-totems. But a sub-totem presupposes a totem, just as a species presupposes a class. Thus, the first form of individual religion found in history does not appear to be the driving force behind all public religion. On the contrary, it appears to be simply one aspect of public religion. The worship an individual organizes privately, within their own conscience, is not the seed of collective worship. It is simply collective worship adapted to the individual’s personal needs.

Miss Fletcher, A Study of the Omaha Tribe, in Smithsonian Report for 1897, p. 586. Boas, The Kwakiutl, p. 322. See also Vth Rep. of the Committee ... of the N.W. Tribes of the Dominion of Canada, B.A.A.S., p. 25. Hill Tout, J.A.I., XXXV, p. 148.

Boas says that among the Tlinkit, the names of the gentes come from their respective totems. Each gens has its own names. The connection between a name and the (collective) totem is sometimes not very clear, but it always exists (Vth Rep. of the Committee, etc., p. 25). Individual forenames also belong to the clan and identify it as surely as the totem among the Iroquois (Morgan, Ancient Society, p. 78), the Wyandot (Powell, Wyandot Government, in Ist Rep., p. 59), the Shawnee, Sauk and Fox (Morgan, Ancient Society, pp. 72, 76-77) and the Omaha (Dorsey, Omaha Sociology, in IIIrd Rep., pp. 227 ff.). The relationship between forenames and personal totems is already known (see above, p. 157).

"For example," says Mathews, "if you ask a Wartwurt man what totem he is, he will first tell his personal totem, and will probably then enumerate those of his clan" (Jour. of the Roy. Soc. of N.S. Wales, XXXVIII, p. 291).

III

III

In a more recent study, which the works of Spencer and Gillen suggested to him, Frazer has attempted to substitute a new explanation of totemism for the one he first proposed, and which we have just been discussing. It rests on the postulate that the totemism of the Arunta is the most primitive which we know; Frazer even goes so far as to say that it scarcely differs from the really and absolutely original type.

In a more recent study, Frazer has tried to replace his first explanation of totemism with a new one. The works of Spencer and Gillen suggested this study to him. We have just discussed his first explanation. His new explanation rests on the assumption that Arunta totemism is the most primitive we know. Frazer even says that it scarcely differs from the truly and absolutely original form.

The Beginnings of Religion and Totemism among the Australian Aborigines, in Fortnightly Review, July, 1905, pp. 162 ff., and Sept., p. 452. Compare the same author’s The Origin of Totemism, ibid., April, 1899, p. 648, and May, p. 835. These slightly older articles differ from the former on one point, but the basis of the theory is essentially the same. Both are reproduced in Totemism and Exogamy, I, pp. 89-172. For the same view, see Spencer and Gillen, Some Remarks on Totemism as applied to Australian Tribes, in J.A.I., 1899, pp. 275-280, and Frazer’s remarks on the same subject, ibid., pp. 281-286.

"Perhaps we may ... say that it is but one remove from the original pattern, the absolutely original form of totemism" (Fortnightly Review, Sept., 1905. p. 455).

The singular thing about it is that the totems are attached neither to persons nor to determined groups of persons, but to localities. In fact, each totem has its centre at some definite spot. It is there that the souls of the first ancestors, who founded the totemic group at the beginning of time, are believed to have their preferred residence. It is there that the sanctuary is located where the churinga are kept; there the cult is celebrated. It is also this geographical distribution of totems which determines the manner in which the clans are recruited. The child has neither the totem of his father nor that of his mother, but the one whose centre is at the spot where the mother believes that she felt the first symptoms of approaching maternity. For it is said that the Arunta is ignorant of the exact relation existing between generation and the sexual act; he thinks that every conception is due to a sort of mystic fecundation. According to him, it is due to the entrance of the soul of an ancestor into the body of a woman and its becoming the principle of a new life there. So at the moment when a woman feels the first tremblings of the child, she imagines that one of the souls whose principal residence is at the place where she happens to be, has just entered into her. As the child who is presently born is merely the reincarnation of this ancestor, he necessarily has the same totem; thus his totem is determined by the locality where he is believed to have been mysteriously conceived.

The unusual thing is that totems belong neither to individuals nor to specific groups of people, but to places. Each totem has its center in a particular spot. The souls of the first ancestors are believed to prefer to live there. These ancestors founded the totemic group at the beginning of time. The sanctuary where the churinga are kept is also there, and the religious rites are performed there. This geographical distribution of totems also determines how clans gain their members. A child has neither the father’s nor the mother’s totem. Instead, the child has the totem centered where the mother believes she first felt signs of pregnancy. This is because the Arunta are said not to know the exact relationship between reproduction and sexual intercourse. They believe that every conception results from a kind of mystical fertilization. In their view, an ancestor’s soul enters a woman’s body and becomes the source of a new life. So, when a woman first feels the child move, she imagines that a soul has just entered her. She believes the soul is one of those that mainly reside in the place where she happens to be. The child who is later born is simply the reincarnation of this ancestor, and so necessarily has the same totem. Thus the child’s totem is determined by the place where the child is believed to have been mysteriously conceived.

On this point, Strehlow’s account (II, p. 52) supports the account of Spencer and Gillen. For a different view, see A. Lang, The Secret of the Totem, p. 190.

Now, it is this local totemism which represents the original form of totemism; at most, it is separated from this by a very short step. This is how Frazer explains its genesis.

Local totemism represents the original form of totemism, or at most is only a short step removed from it. This is how Frazer explains its origin.

At the exact moment when the woman realizes that she is pregnant, she must think that the spirit by which she feels herself possessed has come to her from the objects about her, and especially from one of those which attract her attention at the moment. So if she is engaged in plucking a plant, or watching an animal, she believes that the soul of this plant or animal has passed into her. Among the things to which she will be particularly inclined to attribute her condition are, in the first place, the things she has just eaten. If she has recently eaten emu or yam, she will not doubt that an emu or yam has been born in her and is developing. Under these conditions, it is evident how the child, in his turn, will be considered a sort of yam or emu, how he regards himself as a relative of the plant or animal of the same species, how he has sympathy and regard for them, how he refuses to eat them, etc. From this moment, totemism exists in its essential traits: it is the native's theory of conception that gave rise to it, so Frazer calls this primitive totemism conceptional.

At the exact moment a woman realizes she is pregnant, she must think the spirit she feels inside her came from something nearby. She will think it came especially from something that catches her attention at that moment. So, if she is picking a plant or watching an animal, she believes its soul has passed into her. She will be especially inclined to attribute her condition to something she has just eaten. If she has recently eaten emu or yam, she will not doubt that an emu or yam has been born inside her and is developing. Under these conditions, it is clear how the child, in turn, will be considered a kind of yam or emu. It is also clear how he comes to regard himself as related to plants or animals of the same species. He feels sympathy and respect for them, refuses to eat them, and so on. At this point, the essential features of totemism exist. In Frazer’s account, the native’s theory of conception gave rise to totemism, so he calls this primitive totemism conceptional.

Haddon had already expressed a very similar idea in his Address to the Anthropological Section (B.A.A.S., 1902, pp. 8 ff.). He suggests that each local group originally had a food that was especially its own. The plant or animal that was the group’s main food became its totem.

It is from this original type that all the other forms of totemism are derived. "When several women had, one after the other, felt the first premonitions of maternity at the same spot and under the same circumstances, the place would come to be regarded as haunted by spirits of a peculiar sort; and so the whole country might in time be dotted over with totem centres and distributed into totem districts." This is how the local totemism of the Arunta originated. In order that the totems may subsequently be detached from their territorial base, it is sufficient to think that the ancestral souls, instead of remaining immutably fixed to a determined spot, are able to move freely over the surface of the territory and that in their voyages they follow the men and women of the same totem as themselves. In this way, a woman may be impregnated by her own totem or that of her husband, though residing in a different totemic district. According to whether it is believed that it is the ancestor of the husband or of the wife who thus follow the family about, seeking occasions to reincarnate themselves, the totem of the child will be that of his father or mother. In fact, it is in just this way that the Guanji and Umbaia on the one hand, and the Urabunna on the other, explain their systems of filiation.

All other forms of totemism come from this original type. "When several women, one after another, first sensed that they were pregnant at the same spot and under the same circumstances, the place would come to be seen as inhabited by a particular kind of spirit. In time, the whole country might be dotted with totem centres and divided into totem districts." This is how the local totemism of the Arunta originated. For totems to become detached from their territorial base, one need only believe that ancestral souls can move freely across the territory rather than remaining fixed in one place. On their travels, the souls follow men and women who share their totem. In this way, a woman may be impregnated by a spirit of her own totem or her husband's totem, even though she lives in a different totemic district. People may believe that the husband's or the wife's ancestors follow the family, looking for chances to be reincarnated. The child will have the father's or the mother's totem, depending on which ancestors are believed to follow the family. In fact, the Guanji and Umbaia on the one hand, and the Urabunna on the other, explain their systems of filiation in just this way.

Fortnightly Review, Sept., 1905, p. 458.

But this theory, like that of Tylor, rests upon a begging of the question. If he is to imagine that human souls are the souls of animals or plants, one must believe beforehand that men take either from the animal or vegetable world whatever is most essential in them. Now this belief is one of those at the foundation of totemism. To state it as something evident is therefore to take for granted that which is to be explained.

But this theory, like Tylor's, assumes what it needs to explain. To imagine that human souls are the souls of animals or plants, one must already believe something else. One must believe that people take their most essential qualities from the animal or plant world. But this belief is one of the foundations of totemism. To treat it as self-evident is therefore to take for granted the very thing that needs explaining.

Moreover, from this point of view, the religious character of the totem is entirely inexplicable, for the vague belief in an obscure kinship between the man and the animal is not enough to found a cult. This confusion of distinct kingdoms could never result in dividing the world into sacred and profane. It is true that, being consistent with himself, Frazer refuses to admit that totemism is a religion, under the pretext that he finds in it neither spiritual beings, nor prayers, nor invocations, nor offerings, etc. According to him, it is only a system of magic, by which he means a sort of crude and erroneous science, a first effort to discover the laws of things. But we know how inexact this conception, both of magic and of religion, is. We have a religion as soon as the sacred is distinguished from the profane, and we have seen that totemism is a vast system of sacred things. If we are to explain it, we must therefore show how it happened that these things were stamped with this character. But he does not even raise this problem.

Moreover, from this point of view, the religious character of the totem is completely inexplicable. A vague belief in a mysterious kinship between a man and an animal is not enough to establish a cult. This confusion of distinct kingdoms could never divide the world into sacred and profane things. It is true that Frazer is consistent in refusing to call totemism a religion. He does so on the grounds that he finds no spiritual beings, prayers, invocations, offerings, and so on in it. According to him, totemism is only a system of magic. By magic, he means a kind of crude and mistaken science, a first attempt to discover the laws governing things. But we know how inaccurate this view of both magic and religion is. Religion exists as soon as the sacred is distinguished from the profane. And we have seen that totemism is a vast system of sacred things. If we are to explain totemism, we must therefore show how these things came to be regarded as sacred. But Frazer does not even raise this problem.

Fortn. Rev., May, 1899, p. 835, and July, 1905, pp. 162 ff.

Although Frazer considers totemism only a system of magic, he recognizes that it sometimes contains the first seeds of a real religion (Fortn. Rev., July, 1905, p. 163). For his view of how religion developed from magic, see The Golden Bough,2 I, pp. 75-78.

But this system is completely overthrown by the fact that the postulate upon which it rests can no longer be sustained. The whole argument of Frazer supposes that the local totemism of the Arunta is the most primitive we know, and especially that it is clearly prior to hereditary totemism, either in the paternal or the maternal line. Now as soon as the facts contained in the first volume of Spencer and Gillen were at our disposal, we were able to conjecture that there had been a time in the history of the Arunta people when the totems, instead of being attached to localities, were transmitted hereditarily from mother to child. This conjecture is definitely proved by the new facts discovered by Strehlow, which only confirm the previous observations of Schulze. In fact, both of these authors tell us that even now, in addition to his local totem, each Arunta has another which is completely independent of all geographical conditions, and which belongs to him as a birthright: it is his mother's. This second totem, just like the first, is considered a powerful friend and protector by the natives, which looks after their food, warns them of possible dangers, etc. They have the right of taking part in its cult. When they are buried, the corpse is laid so that the face is turned towards the region of the maternal totemic centre. So after a fashion this centre is also that of the deceased. In fact it is given the name tmara altjira, which is translated: camp of the totem which is associated with me. So it is certain that among the Arunta, hereditary totemism in the uterine line is not later than local totemism, but, on the contrary, must have preceded it. For to-day, the maternal totem has only an accessory and supplementary rôle; it is a second totem, which explains how it was able to escape observation as attentive and careful as that of Spencer and Gillen. But in order that it should be able to retain this secondary place, being employed along with the local totem, there must have been a time when it held the primary place in the religious life. It is, in part, a fallen totem, but one recalling an epoch when the totemic organization of the Arunta was very different from what it is to-day. So the whole superstructure of Frazer's system is undermined at its foundation.

But this system is completely overturned because the assumption on which it rests can no longer be maintained. Frazer’s whole argument assumes that the local totemism of the Arunta is the most primitive we know. In particular, he assumes it clearly came before totemism inherited through either the father’s or the mother’s line. Once we had the facts in the first volume by Spencer and Gillen, we could form a different hypothesis. We could suppose that, at one time, Arunta totems were inherited from mother to child rather than attached to places. This hypothesis is definitively proved by the new facts discovered by Strehlow. These facts only confirm Schulze’s earlier observations. Both authors tell us that even now, each Arunta has another totem besides the local one. This other totem is completely independent of geography and belongs to the person by birthright. It is the mother’s totem. Like the local totem, the maternal totem is considered a powerful friend and protector by the Arunta. It provides them with food, warns them of possible dangers, and so on. They have the right to take part in its cult. At burial, the body is placed so that its face points toward the region of the maternal totemic centre. In a sense, then, this centre is also the deceased person’s centre. In fact, it is called tmara altjira, which means: camp of the totem which is associated with me. So it is certain that hereditary totemism through the mother’s line did not arise later than local totemism among the Arunta. On the contrary, it must have come first. Today, the maternal totem has only a secondary, supplementary role. It is a second totem, which explains how even observers as attentive and careful as Spencer and Gillen could have missed it. But for the maternal totem to retain this secondary place alongside the local totem, it must once have held the primary place in religious life. It is, in part, a fallen totem. But it recalls a time when the totemic organization of the Arunta was very different from what it is today. So the whole structure of Frazer’s system is undermined at its foundation.

Sur le totemisme, in Année Soc., V, pp. 82-121. On the same question, see also Hartland, Presidential Address, in Folk-Lore, XI, p. 75. See A. Lang, A Theory of Arunta Totemism, in Man, 1904, No. 44. See also Conceptional Totemism and Exogamy, ibid., 1907, No. 55. See The Secret of the Totem, ch. iv. See N. W. Thomas, Arunta Totemism, in Man, 1904, No. 68. See P. W. Schmidt, Die Stellung der Aranda unter der Australischen Stämmen, in Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, 1908, pp. 866 ff.

Die Aranda, II, pp. 57-58.

Schulze, loc cit., pp. 238-239.

In the conclusion of Totemism and Exogamy (IV, pp. 58-59), Frazer does admit that one form of totemism is even older than that of the Arunta. It is the form Rivers observed in the Banks Islands (Totemism in Polynesia and Melanesia, in J.A.I., XXXIX, p. 172). Among the Arunta, an ancestor’s spirit is believed to impregnate the mother. In the Banks Islands, an animal or plant spirit is believed to do so, as the theory assumes. But Arunta ancestral spirits have an animal or plant form, so the difference is slight. That is why we have not mentioned it in our account.

IV

IV

Although Andrew Lang has actively contested this theory of Frazer's, the one he proposes himself in his later works, resembles it on more than one point. Like Frazer, he makes totemism consist in the belief in a sort of consubstantiality of the man and the animal. But he explains it differently.

Although Andrew Lang strongly challenged Frazer's theory, his own theory in his later works resembles it in several ways. Like Frazer, Lang holds that totemism rests on a belief that humans and animals share a kind of common substance. But Lang explains this belief differently.

Social Origins, London, 1903, especially chapter viii, titled The Origin of Totem Names and Beliefs, and The Secret of the Totem, London, 1905.

He derives it entirely from the fact that the totem is a name. As soon as human groups were founded, each one felt the need of distinguishing between the neighbouring groups with which it came into contact and, with this end in view, it gave them different names. The names were preferably chosen from the surrounding flora and fauna because animals and plants can easily be designated by movements or represented by drawings. The more or less precise resemblances which men may have with such and such objects determined the way in which these collective denominations were distributed among the groups.

He explains it entirely by the fact that the totem is a name. As soon as human groups formed, each group felt the need to distinguish the neighboring groups it encountered. To do this, it gave them different names. These names were preferably chosen from local plants and animals. This was because plants and animals can easily be shown through gestures or drawings. The names given to each group depended on how closely its members resembled particular plants or animals.

In Social Origins especially, Lang uses conjecture to reconstruct what these primitive groups must have been like. But there is no need to repeat his hypotheses, which do not affect his theory of totemism.

On this point, Lang’s theory is close to Julius Pickler’s (see Pickler and Szomolo, Der Ursprung des Totemismus. Ein Beitrag zur materialistirchen Geschichtstheorie, Berlin, 36 pp. in 8vo). The difference is that Pickler gives more importance to the pictorial representation of the name than to the name itself.

Social Origins, p. 166.

Now, it is a well-known fact that "to the early mind names, and the things known by names, are in a mystic and transcendental connection of rapport." For example, the name of an individual is not considered as a simple word or conventional sign, but as an essential part of the individual himself. So if it were the name of an animal, the man would have to believe that he himself had the most characteristic attributes of this same animal. This theory would become better and better accredited as the historic origins of these denominations became more remote and were effaced from the memory. Myths arose to make this strange ambiguity of human nature more easily representable in the mind. To explain this, they imagined that the animal was the ancestor of the men, or else that the two were descended from a common ancestor. Thus came the conception of bonds of kinship uniting each clan to the animal species whose name it bore. With the origins of this fabulous kinship once explained, it seems to our author that totemism no longer contains a mystery.

It is well known that "to the early mind names, and the things known by names, are in a mystic and transcendental connection of rapport." For example, a person's name is not considered just a word or a conventional sign. It is considered an essential part of the person. So if a man bore the name of an animal, he would have to believe that he possessed its most distinctive traits. This theory would become more widely accepted as the historical origins of these names faded from memory. Myths arose to make this strange ambiguity of human nature easier to imagine. To explain it, people imagined that the animal was the ancestor of the men, or that both had a common ancestor. This gave rise to the idea that ties of kinship united each clan to the animal species whose name it bore. Once the origins of this imagined kinship are explained, our author believes that totemism is no longer a mystery.

The Secret of the Totem, p. 121; cf. pp. 116, 117.

But whence comes the religious character of the totemic beliefs and practices? For the fact that a man considers himself an animal of a certain species does not explain why he attributes marvellous powers to this species, and especially why he renders a cult to the images symbolizing it.—To this question Lang gives the same response as Frazer: he denies that totemism is a religion. "I find in Australia," he says, "no example of religious practices such as praying to, nourishing or burying the totem." It was only at a later epoch, when it was already established, that totemism was drawn into and surrounded by a system of conceptions properly called religious. According to a remark of Howitt, when the natives undertake the explanation of the totemic institutions, they do not attribute them to the totems themselves nor to a man, but to some supernatural being such as Bunjil or Baiame. "Accepting this evidence," says Lang, "one source of the 'religious' character of totemism is at once revealed. The totemist obeys the decree of Bunjil, or Baiame, as the Cretans obeyed the divine decrees given by Zeus to Minos." Now according to Lang the idea of these great divinities arose outside of the totemic system; so this is not a religion in itself; it has merely been given a religious colouring by contact with a genuine religion.

But where does the religious character of totemic beliefs and practices come from? A man may consider himself an animal of a certain species. But this does not explain why he attributes extraordinary powers to that species. Still less does it explain why he worships images that symbolize it. Lang gives the same answer to this question as Frazer: he denies that totemism is a religion. "I find in Australia," he says, "no example of religious practices such as praying to, nourishing or burying the totem." Only later, after totemism was established, was it drawn into a system of genuinely religious ideas and surrounded by them. Howitt notes that when the natives explain totemic institutions, they attribute them neither to the totems themselves nor to a man. Instead, they attribute them to a supernatural being such as Bunjil or Baiame. "Accepting this evidence," says Lang, "one source of the 'religious' character of totemism is at once revealed. The totemist obeys the decree of Bunjil, or Baiame, as the Cretans obeyed the divine decrees given by Zeus to Minos." But according to Lang, the idea of these great divinities arose outside the totemic system. Totemism is therefore not a religion in itself. It has merely acquired a religious coloring through contact with a genuine religion.

The Secret of the Totem, p. 136.

J.A.I., Aug., 1888, pp. 53-54. See also Nat. Tr., pp. 89, 488, 498.

But these very myths contradict Lang's conception of totemism. If the Australians had regarded totemism as something human and profane, it would never have occurred to them to make a divine institution out of it. If, on the other hand, they have felt the need of connecting it with a divinity, it is because they have seen a sacred character in it. So these mythological interpretations prove the religious nature of totemism, but do not explain it.

But these very myths contradict Lang's view of totemism. If the Australians had seen totemism as human and profane, they would never have thought to make it a divine institution. If, on the other hand, they felt the need to connect totemism with a deity, it was because they saw it as sacred. So these myths prove that totemism is religious in nature, but they do not explain why.

Moreover, Lang himself recognizes that this solution is not sufficient. He realizes that totemic things are treated with a religious respect; that especially the blood of an animal, as well as that of a man, is the object of numerous interdictions, or, as he says, taboos which this comparatively late mythology cannot explain. Then where do they come from? Here are the words with which Lang answers this question: "As soon as the animal-named groups evolved the universally diffused beliefs about the wakan or mana, or mystically sacred quality of the blood as the life, they would also develop the various taboos." The words wakan and mana, as we shall see in the following chapter, involve the very idea of sacredness itself; the one is taken from the language of the Sioux, the other from that of the Melanesian peoples. To explain the sacred character of totemic things by postulating this characteristic, is to answer the question by the question. What we must find out is whence this idea of wakan comes and how it comes to be applied to the totem and all that is derived from it. As long as these two questions remain unanswered, nothing is explained.

Moreover, Lang himself recognizes that this solution is not enough. He realizes that totemic things are treated with religious respect. He also recognizes that many prohibitions, or taboos, apply especially to animal blood, as well as human blood. This comparatively late mythology cannot explain those taboos. So where do they come from? Lang answers: "As soon as the animal-named groups evolved the universally diffused beliefs about the wakan or mana, or mystically sacred quality of the blood as the life, they would also develop the various taboos." As we shall see in the next chapter, wakan and mana express the very idea of sacredness itself. The first word comes from the Sioux language, the second from the languages of the Melanesian peoples. To explain why totemic things are sacred by assuming that they are sacred is to answer the question with the question itself. We must discover where the idea of wakan comes from. We must also discover how it came to be applied to the totem and everything derived from it. As long as these two questions remain unanswered, nothing is explained.

"With reverence," as Lang says (The Secret of the Totem, p. 111).

Lang adds that these taboos are the basis of exogamy, the practice of marrying outside one's group.

Ibid., p. 125.

V

V

We have now passed in review all the principal explanations which have been given for totemic beliefs, leaving to each of them its own individuality. But now that this examination is finished, we may state one criticism which addresses itself to all these systems alike.

We have now reviewed all the main explanations of totemic beliefs, treating each on its own terms. But now that we have finished this review, we may make one criticism that applies to all these explanations.

However, we have not discussed Spencer's theory. This is because it is only part of his general theory of how ancestor worship became nature worship. We have already described that general theory, so there is no need to repeat it.

If we stick to the letter of the formulæ, it seems that these may be arranged in two groups. Some (Frazer, Lang) deny the religious character of totemism; in reality, that amounts to denying the facts. Others recognize this, but think that they can explain it by deriving it from an anterior religion out of which totemism developed. But as a matter of fact, this distinction is only apparent: the first group is contained within the second. Neither Frazer nor Lang have been able to maintain their principle systematically and explain totemism as if it were not a religion. By the very force of facts, they have been compelled to slip ideas of a religious nature into their explanations. We have just seen how Lang calls in the idea of sacredness, which is the cardinal idea of all religion. Frazer, on his side, in each of the theories which he has successively proposed, appeals openly to the idea of souls or spirits; for according to him, totemism came from the fact that men thought they could deposit their souls in safety in some external object, or else that they attributed conception to a sort of spiritual fecundation of which a spirit was the agent. Now a soul, and still more, a spirit, are sacred things and the object of rites; so the ideas expressing them are essentially religious and it is therefore in vain that Frazer makes totemism a mere system of magic, for he succeeds in explaining it only in the terms of another religion.

If we take these formulations literally, they seem to fall into two groups. Some thinkers (Frazer, Lang) deny that totemism is religious. In reality, this amounts to denying the facts. Others recognize that totemism is religious. But they think they can explain it by deriving it from an earlier religion out of which totemism developed. In fact, though, this distinction is only apparent. The first group belongs within the second. Neither Frazer nor Lang has been able to apply his principle consistently and explain totemism as if it were not a religion. The facts themselves have forced them to introduce religious ideas into their explanations. We have just seen how Lang appeals to the idea of sacredness, the central idea of all religion. Frazer, for his part, openly appeals to the idea of souls or spirits in each of his successive theories. According to him, totemism arose from one of two beliefs. Either people thought they could safely deposit their souls in some external object, or they attributed conception to a kind of spiritual fertilization caused by a spirit. Now a soul, and even more so a spirit, is sacred and is the object of rites. The ideas of souls and spirits are therefore essentially religious. So it is in vain that Frazer presents totemism as merely a system of magic. He succeeds in explaining it only in terms of another religion.

We have already pointed out the insufficiencies of animism and naturism; so one may not have recourse to them, as Tylor and Jevons do, without exposing himself to these same objections. Yet neither Frazer nor Lang seems to dream of the possibility of another hypothesis. On the other hand, we know that totemism is tightly bound up with the most primitive social system which we know, and in all probability, of which we can conceive. To suppose that it has developed out of another religion, differing from it only in degree, is to leave the data of observation and enter into the domain of arbitrary and unverifiable conjectures. If we wish to remain in harmony with the results we have already obtained, it is necessary that while affirming the religious nature of totemism, we abstain from deriving it from another different religion. There can be no hope of assigning it non-religious ideas as its cause. But among the representations entering into the conditions from which it results, there may be some which directly suggest a religious nature of themselves. These are the ones we must look for.

We have already pointed out the shortcomings of animism and naturism. So anyone who relies on them, as Tylor and Jevons do, faces the same objections. Yet neither Frazer nor Lang seems to imagine that another hypothesis is possible. On the other hand, we know that totemism is closely tied to the most primitive social system we know. It is also, in all probability, the most primitive social system we can conceive of. To suppose that totemism developed from another religion differing from it only in degree is to leave observable evidence behind. It is to enter the realm of arbitrary and unverifiable speculation. If we wish to remain consistent with our findings, we must affirm the religious nature of totemism without deriving it from another, different religion. There is no hope of attributing totemism to non-religious ideas. But among the ideas involved in the conditions that give rise to totemism, some may directly suggest a religious nature. These are the ideas we must look for.

Lang, however, traces the idea of the great gods to a different source. As we have already said, he believes it came from a kind of primitive revelation. But Lang does not use this idea to explain totemism.