The Making of Religion | Page 8

apparently so well bottomed on facts. But there can never be any
real harm in studying masses of evidence from fresh points of view. At worst, the failure
of adverse criticism must help to establish the doctrines assailed. Now, as we shall snow,
there are two points of view from which the evidence as to religion in its early stages has
not been steadily contemplated. Therefore we intend to ask, first, what, if anything, can
be ascertained as to the nature of the 'visions' and hallucinations which, according to Mr.
Tylor in his celebrated work 'Primitive Culture,' lent their aid to the formation of the idea
of 'spirit,' Secondly, we shall collect and compare the accounts which we possess of the
High Gods and creative beings worshipped or believed in, by the most backward races.
We shall then ask whether these relatively Supreme Beings, so conceived of by men in
very rudimentary social conditions, can be, as anthropology declares, mere developments
from the belief in ghosts of the dead.
We shall end by venturing to suggest that the savage theory of the soul may be based, at
least in part, on experiences which cannot, at present, be made to fit into any purely
materialistic system of the universe. We shall also bring evidence tending to prove that

the idea of God, in its earliest known shape, need not logically be derived from the idea
of spirit, however that idea itself may have been attained or evolved. The conception of
God, then, need not be evolved out of reflections on dreams and 'ghosts.'
If these two positions can be defended with any success, it is obvious that the whole
theory of the Science of Religion will need to be reconsidered. But it is no less evident
that our two positions do not depend on each other. The first may be regarded as fantastic,
or improbable, or may be 'masked' and left on one side. But the strength of the second
position, derived from evidence of a different character, will not, therefore, be in any way
impaired. Our first position can only be argued for by dint of evidence highly unpopular
in character, and, as a general rule, condemned by modern science. The evidence is
obtained by what is, at all events, a legitimate anthropological proceeding. We may
follow Mr. Tylor's example, and collect savage beliefs about visions, hallucinations,
'clairvoyance,' and the acquisition of knowledge apparently not attainable through the
normal channels of sense. We may then compare these savage beliefs with attested
records of similar experiences among living and educated civilised men. Even if we attain
to no conclusion, or a negative conclusion, as to the actuality and supernormal character
of the alleged experiences, still to compare data of savage and civilised psychology, or
even of savage and civilised illusions and fables, is decidedly part, though a neglected
part, of the function of anthropological science. The results, whether they do or do not
strengthen our first position, must be curious and instructive, if only as a chapter in the
history of human error. That chapter, too, is concerned with no mean topic, but with what
we may call the X region of our nature. Out of that region, out of miracle, prophecy,
vision, have certainly come forth the great religions, Christianity and Islam; and the great
religious innovators and leaders, our Lord Himself, St. Francis, John Knox, Jeanne d'Arc,
down to the founder of the new faith of the Sioux and Arapahoe. It cannot, then, be
unscientific to compare the barbaric with the civilised beliefs and experiences about a
region so dimly understood, and so fertile in potent influences. Here the topic will be
examined rather by the method of anthropology than of psychology. We may conceivably
have something to learn (as has been the case before) from the rough observations and
hasty inferences of the most backward races.
We may illustrate this by an anecdote:
'The Northern Indians call the Aurora Borealis "Edthin," that is "Deer." Their ideas in
this respect are founded on a principle one would not imagine. Experience has shown
them that when a hairy deer-skin is briskly stroked with the hand on a dark night, it will
emit many sparks of electrical fire.'
So says Hearne in his 'Journey,' published in 1795 (p. 346).
This observation of the Red Men is a kind of parable representing a part of the purport of
the following treatise. The Indians, making a hasty inference from a trivial phenomenon,
arrived unawares at a probably correct conclusion, long unknown to civilised science.
They connected the Aurora Borealis with electricity, supposing that multitudes of deer in
the sky rubbed the sparks out of each other! Meanwhile, even in the last century, a
puzzled populace spoke of the phenomenon as 'Lord Derwentwater's Lights.' The