further to bear it out. It explains the fact
that in the old creeds, as in the still extant creed
of the Otaheitans, every family has its guardian spirit,
who is supposed to be one of their departed relatives;
and that they sacrifice to these as minor gods—a
practice still pursued by the Chinese and even by
the Russians. It is perfectly congruous with the
Grecian myths concerning the wars of the Gods with
the Titans and their final usurpation; and it similarly
agrees with the fact that among the Teutonic gods
proper was one Freir who came among them by adoption,
“but was born among the
Vanes, a somewhat
mysterious
other dynasty of gods, who had been
conquered and superseded by the stronger and more
warlike Odin dynasty.” It harmonises, too,
with the belief that there are different gods to different
territories and nations, as there were different chiefs;
that these gods contend for supremacy as chiefs do;
and it gives meaning to the boast of neighbouring tribes—“Our
god is greater than your god.” It is confirmed
by the notion universally current in early times,
that the gods come from this other abode, in which
they commonly live, and appear among men—speak
to them, help them, punish them. And remembering
this, it becomes manifest that the prayers put up
by primitive peoples to their gods for aid in battle,
are meant literally—that their gods are
expected to come back from the other kingdom they
are reigning over, and once more fight the old enemies
they had before warred against so implacably; and it
needs but to name the Iliad, to remind every one how
thoroughly they believed the expectation fulfilled.
All government, then, being originally that of the
strong man who has become a fetish by some manifestation
of superiority, there arises, at his death—his
supposed departure on a long projected expedition,
in which he is accompanied by his slaves and concubines
sacrificed at his tomb—their arises, then,
the incipient division of religious from political
control, of civil rule from spiritual. His son
becomes deputed chief during his absence; his authority
is cited as that by which his son acts; his vengeance
is invoked on all who disobey his son; and his commands,
as previously known or as asserted by his son, become
the germ of a moral code; a fact we shall the more
clearly perceive if we remember, that early moral
codes inculcate mainly the virtues of the warrior,
and the duty of exterminating some neighbouring tribe
whose existence is an offence to the deity.
From this point onwards, these two kinds of authority,
at first complicated together as those of principal
and agent, become slowly more and more distinct.
As experience accumulates, and ideas of causation
grow more precise, kings lose their supernatural attributes;
and, instead of God-king, become God-descended king,
God-appointed king, the Lord’s anointed, the
vicegerent of heaven, ruler reigning by Divine right.
The old theory, however, long clings to men in feeling,