As knowledge increases, mankind learns more and
more about the world and the processes of nature,
but even at the present day the vast majority of
white men possess only a rudimentary amount of
this knowledge; indeed, most so-called educated
people have very vague ideas concerning the
physical universe in which they live. Such
being the case, it is not surprising that primitive
peoples have very confused notions concerning
these matters, and, as the result of false inductions
concerning the causes of phenomena,
they seek to accomplish ends by means that we
recognise as inadequate. ‘It is plain,’ as Dr.
Jevons points out (36, 33), ‘that as long as man
is turned loose as it were amongst these innumerable
possible causes with nothing to guide his
choice, the chances against his making the right
selection are considerable.’ Further, ‘no progress
could be made in science until man had distinguished,
at any rate roughly, possible from
absolutely impossible effects (or causes), and had
learned to dismiss from consideration the impossible.
It might be expected that experience
would suffice of itself to teach man this essential
distinction, but the vast majority of the human
race have not yet learned from experience that like
does not necessarily produce like: four-fifths of
mankind, probably, believe in sympathetic magic.’
The instances of sympathetic magic as Dr. Hirn
points out (32, 278) are naturally divided into two
main classes which, broadly speaking, correspond
to the two types of association, contiguity and
similarity, and as in psychology it is often difficult
to decide whether a given associative process
has its origin in a relation of contiguity or in one
of similarity, so it is often an open question to
which group a given superstition is to be assigned.
We will start from the facts that are simpler and
easier to explain.
1. Sympathetic Magic based on a material connection
between things (32, 279) has been aptly
termed by Dr. Frazer (21, 77) Contagious Magic.
All over the world we meet with examples of the
belief that objects which were once related to one
another retain their connection though they may
be separated, and whatever may happen to one
part or object the other part or object is similarly
affected; thus, by acting upon a part of a given
whole we may influence the whole as well as all
its other parts.
This belief explains why a magician, wishing to
influence or act upon some particular individual,
desires to obtain some portion of his body or something
actually connected with him. A few hairs
from the beard, a lock of hair, some nail-parings,
a drop of blood from the nose which has fallen to
the ground, and which has not been rendered impalpable
by effacing it with the foot, are used by
Basuto sorcerers (10, 277), and indeed by workers
of magic everywhere. A few of the examples
collected by Mr. Hartland (30, ii. 66) will suffice
to demonstrate the universality of this belief. In
some parts of England a girl forsaken by her lover
is advised to get a lock of his hair and boil it;
whilst it is simmering in the pot he will have no
rest. In certain parts of Germany and Transylvania
the clippings of the hair or nails, as well
as broken pieces of the teeth, are buried beneath
the elder tree which grows in the courtyard, or
are burnt, or carefully hidden, for fear of witches.
Patagonians burn the hairs brushed out from
their heads, and all the parings of their nails
for they believe that spells may be wrought upon
them by any one who can obtain a piece of either.
The potency of the hair is shown in the beliefs
about the long narrow beaded band which is used
to tie up the hair of a Musquakie woman (56, 96,
7). This, though a talisman when first worn,
becomes something infinitely more sacred and
precious, being transfused with the essence of
her soul; any one gaining possession of it has her
for an abject slave if he keeps it, and kills her if
he destroys it. A woman will go from a man she
loves to a man she hates if he has contrived to
possess himself of her hair-string; and a man will
forsake wife and children for a witch who has
touched his lips with her hair-string. The hair-string
is made for a girl by her mother or grandmother
and decorated with ‘luck’ patterns; it is
also prayed over by the maker and a shaman.
The scalp-lock ornament worn by the Musquakie
men is kept with great care as it helps to protect
the soul. As the tearing out of the scalp-lock
makes the soul at its root the slave of the one
obtaining it, so the possession of its ornament
and shield, which has absorbed some of its essence,
gives the possessor the ability to send the rightful
owner brain fever and madness (56, 106).
In the South Sea Islands it was necessary to
the success of any sorcery to secure something
connected with the body of the victim. Accordingly
a spittoon was always carried by the confidential
servant of a chief in the Hawaiian Islands
to receive his expectorations, which were carefully
buried every morning. The Tahitians used to
burn or bury the hair they cut off, and every
individual among them had his distinct basket
for food. As Mr. Hartland points out (30, ii. 76),
the custom, everywhere practised, of obliterating
all trace of the saliva after spitting, doubtless
originated in the desire to prevent the use of it
for magical purposes, and the same desire led to
the extreme cleanliness in the disposal of fouler
excreta which is almost universally a characteristic
of savages. Thus this belief has been one of
the most beneficial of superstitions.
Luck-bags of red cloth, which contain ‘the four
things of good fortune,’ are made by witches in
Italy (43, 287), who while sewing it sing an incantation.
American Negroes brought over from
West Africa the art of making ‘luck-balls’ or
‘cunjerin’ bags,’ a practice which is kept up to the
present day. They are supposed to bring happiness
and success in everything the owner undertakes;
one made for Charles G. Leland, at the
instigation of Miss Owen (57, 173), contained, in
addition to knotted threads, a piece of foil to
represent the brightness of the little spirit that
was going to be in the ball, a leaf of clover in
the place of the hair of the one that is going to
own the ball, and some dust which was designed
to blind the eyes of enemies. Miss Owen got the
same man, Alexander, the King of the Voodoos,
who made the ball for Mr. Leland, to make one
for me, and she informed me that ‘it was made
just like Mr. Leland’s with the same words and
with the same materials, excepting the clover.
This is not the season for clover, so a fragment of
paper, torn from one of your books, represents you.’
It is not essential that the object to be operated
upon should have formed an actual part of a person,
for something associated with that person,
such as something habitually worn or used, is
sufficient, or as in the case of the luck-ball just
cited, the association may be as remote as that
between an author and a piece of the paper of a
book he has published.
Earth from a man’s footprints, on account of
its close contact with the person, has acquired
the virtues of a portion of his body. Widely
spread in Germany is the belief that if a sod
whereon a man has trodden—all the better if
with the naked foot—be taken up and dried
behind the hearth or oven, he will parch up with
it and languish, or his foot will be withered. He
will be lamed, or even killed, by sticking his footprint
with nails—coffin nails are the best—or
broken glass (30, ii. 78); but these are also the
practices of Australian or other savages. To quote
only one example from Australia (34, 26), sharp
fragments of quartz, glass, bone, or charcoal are
buried in the footprints of the victim or in the
mark made in the ground by his reclining body.
They are supposed to enter the victim, and rheumatic
affections are very frequently attributed to
them.
Clothes, from their intimate association with
the person, have naturally attained a prominent
place among the instruments of witchcraft. In
Germany and Denmark no portion of a survivor’s
clothing must on any account be put upon a
corpse, else the owner will languish away as it
moulders in the grave. To hang rags from the
clothing of a dead man upon a vine is to render
it barren. ‘Probably,’ as Mr. Hartland suggests,
‘it is only a different interpretation of the same
belief which alike in Christian, in Mohammedan,
and in Buddhist lands has led to the ascription
of marvellous powers to the clothes and other
relics of departed saints. The divine power which
was immanent in these personages during life
attaches not merely to every portion of their
bodies but to every shred of their apparel’ (30,
ii. 90). An illustrative parallel can be taken
from the Pacific. The red feathers which adorned
the sacred girdle worn by the Tahitian kings were
taken from the images of the gods. The girdle
‘thus became sacred, even as the person of the
gods, the feathers being supposed to retain all
the dreadful attributes of power and vengeance
which the idols possessed, and with which it was
designed to endow the king.’ So potent was it
that Mr. Ellis says (17, iii. 108) it ‘not only raised
him to the highest earthly station, but identified
him with their gods.’
It is conceivable, as Mr. Hartland suggests (30,
ii. 214), that uneducated folk might argue thus:
if an article of my clothing in a witch’s hands
may cause me to suffer, the same article in contact
with a beneficent power may relieve pain,
restore me to health, or promote my general
prosperity. Hence the practice of throwing pins
into wells, of tying rags on bushes and trees, of
driving nails into trees and stocks, of throwing
stones and sticks on cairns, and the analogous
practices throughout the world, suggest that they
are to be interpreted as acts of ceremonial union
with the spirit identified with well, tree, stock,
or cairn (30, ii. 228). In the British Islands the
sanctity of the well or bush was subsequently
annexed by the missionaries who took up their
abode beside them, and thus we find the wells
or trees called after certain saints and the healing
power attributed to the latter, whereas the
holiness and efficacy of the wells were in the vast
majority of cases, if not in all, pre-Christian
(27, 383).
Objects are worn or eaten so that by induction
the individual may acquire their properties.
Thus the Red Indian hunter (70, 131) wears
ornaments of the claws of the grizzly bear, that
he may be endowed with its courage and ferocity,
and the Tyrolese hunter still wears tufts of eagle’s
down in his hat, to gain the eagle’s keen sight
and courage. ‘Look,’ writes Casalis (10, 271),
‘at those strange objects hanging from the necks
of our little black friends. There is a kite’s foot
in order that the poor child may escape misfortune
with the swiftness of the kite in its
flight. Another has the claw of a lion in order
that his life may be as firmly secured against all
danger as that of a lion; a third is adorned with
the tarsus bone of a sheep, or an iron ring, that
he may oppose to evil a resistance as firm as iron,
or as that little compact bone without marrow
which could not be crushed between two stones
without difficulty.’
The eating of certain kinds of food, more
especially of the flesh of animals, would similarly
have a very potent effect; thus among the Dyaks
(65, i. 176), young men sometimes abstain from
eating the flesh of deer, lest they should become
timid. The Abipones of Paraguay (14, 258) ‘detest
the thought of eating hens, eggs, sheep, fish,
or tortoises, imagining that these tender kinds
of food engender sloth and languor in their
bodies and cowardice in their minds. On the
other hand they eagerly devour the flesh of the
tiger [jaguar], bull, stag, boar, anta and tamandua
[ant-eaters], having an idea that, from continually
feeding on these animals, their strength, boldness,
and courage are increased.’
Belief in contagious magic leads quite logically
to various revolting practices. In Torres Straits
the sweat of renowned warriors was drunk by
young men, who also ate mixed with their food
the scrapings from the finger-nails of the warriors
which had become saturated with human blood
in order ‘to make strong and like a stone; no
afraid’ (29, v. 301). The eyes and tongue of a
freshly killed enemy were frequently torn out
and given to lads to make them brave and
fearless. The Australian natives believe that a
man’s fat and his strength and vitality are connected,
therefore the wasting of the body and
disease are the result of the absence of fat, perhaps
to be followed by death. By eating a man’s
fat, and thus making it part of himself, the black
fellow thinks that he also acquires the strength
of the deceased. So also they think that human
fat brings success in hunting, causes spears which
are anointed with it to fly true, or the club
to strike irresistible blows. The possession of
human fat is, therefore, much desired by these
aborigines, especially those who feel age or disease,
or who wish to be successful in the magical
arts, for it is believed that the spirit of the dead
man whose fat has been used will help the charm
to act (35, 411, 361). Cannibalism for magical
purposes of this sort has probably been extremely
common and is possibly at the base of a good
deal of anthropophagy.
Very widely spread is the belief that close
relatives or even friends are bound together in
a sympathetic relation, which is especially manifest
on important occasions or at critical times.
When a Land Dyak village has turned out for
a wild-pig hunt in the jungle, those who remain
at home may not touch water or oil with their
hands during the absence of their friends, lest
the hunters should all become ‘butter-fingered,’
and the prey so escape them (60, i. 430). It is
also recorded from Borneo that when men are
on a war expedition, fires are lighted at home,
the mats are spread, and the fires kept up till
late in the evening and lighted again before
dawn, so that the men may not be cold; the
roofing of the house is opened before dawn, so
that the men may not lie too long and so fall
into the enemies’ hands (60, ii. 104). Again
when a Dyak is out head-hunting, his wife, or,
if he is unmarried, his sister, must wear a sword
day and night, in order that he may be always
thinking of his weapons; and she may not sleep
during the day nor go to bed before two in the
morning, lest her husband or brother should
thereby be surprised in his sleep by an enemy
(20, i. 30). Similar instances could easily be
multiplied indefinitely from various savage
countries, but even in Europe there are not
lacking records of a real sympathy between
husband and wife, where the former suffers from
certain characteristic ailments of the latter (59,
240). There is a very widely spread series of
customs based upon the belief that the father
and his unborn or newly born child are in such
sympathetic relationship that the former has to
take all sorts of precautions lest his offspring
should in any way be injured. The extreme
form this custom takes is for the newly made
father to take to his bed and be specially dieted;
this occurs in many places, but notably in the
East Indian Archipelago and in South America.
The custom, which is known as the Couvade, is
subject to many modifications, which have been
tabulated and discussed by Mr. H. Ling Roth
(59, 204). Among the Land Dyaks of Borneo
the husband of a pregnant woman, until the time
of her delivery, may not do work with any sharp
instrument, except what may be absolutely necessary
for the cultivation of his farm; he may
not tie things together with rattans, or strike
animals, or fire guns, or do anything of a violent
character for fear of injuring the child. Often
the men must abstain from certain food lest it
should affect the child; thus in Guiana partaking
of the Agouti would make the child meagre, or
eating a labba would make the infant’s mouth
protrude like the labba’s, or make it spotted like
the labba, which spots would ultimately become
ulcers (59, 220). Thus the father is frequently
debarred from performing many of the usually
unconsidered daily acts, lest they should affect
the welfare of a child that is newly born or is about
to be born; and there is the curious development
of the belief of an occult reaction of the expected
child on the father, affecting, to take one example,
his success in fishing (59, 234).
2. When man first began to think about the
world around him he must have noted (what
he, in common with other animals, had unconsciously
acted upon in the past) that day and
night and the seasons arrived in regular succession,
the same stars rose and set, an animal reproduced
its own kind, in fact that there was
a uniformity in nature. But side by side with
these natural sequences there were irregularities.
Some days were shorter than others, some were
bright, others cloudy, the length and character
of the seasons varied from year to year, some
stars had a course in the heavens independent
of the majority. Again, he might early have
noticed that many of these fluctuations in sunshine
and rain, in heat and cold, affected him
directly or indirectly by influencing vegetation.
We need not be surprised, therefore, if he came
to the conclusion that it would be better for him
if he exerted himself to regulate matters somewhat,
but then the difficulty would arise, what
was he to do?
The unenlightened mind does not discriminate
between cause and effect, and imagines that as
like produces like, so a result can be attained by
imitating it. Hence arose Mimetic or Symbolic
Magic, which, following Dr. Hirn, is better termed
Homœopathic Magic, which is occult influence
based upon a likeness between things (32, 282).
On this was founded the mediæval medical
theory known as the Doctrine of Signatures,
which supposes that plants and minerals indicate
by their external characters the diseases which
nature intended them to remedy.
It would be easy to give a large number of
examples to illustrate homœopathic magic, but a
few will suffice. Thus the Euphrasia, or eye-bright,
was, and is, supposed to be good for the
eyes, on the strength of a black pupil-like spot
in its corolla (70, 123). The yellow turmeric, or
saffron, cured jaundice. The roots of roses or their
slips, with their knots removed and set amongst
broom, will bring forth yellow roses (47, x. 70).
The influence of homœopathic magic can be
traced in beliefs and practices from the lowest
savages to civilised nations. The magician who
works by similarities makes representations of
things or beings, in order to acquire an influence
over them. By dramatic or pictorial imitation
heavenly bodies are influenced, rain is made,
plants and animals are increased, animals enticed
to their destruction, human beings acted upon.
When it was wished to cause rain to fall in
Murray Island, Torres Straits, the rain-maker
scooped a hole in the ground, and lined it with
leaves and placed in it a rude stone image of a
man which had previously been anointed with oil
and rubbed with scented grass; then he poured
the decoction of minced leaves of various plants
mixed with water over the image—the image
being so laid in the hole as to point to the quarter
from which the rain was expected. Earth was
heaped over the image and leaves and shells
placed on the mound, and all the while the
rain-maker muttered an incantation in a low
sepulchral tone. Four large screens composed
of plaited coco-nut leaves were placed at the
head, foot, and sides of the grave to represent
clouds; on the upper part of each was fastened
a blackened oblong of vegetable cloth to mimic
a black thunder-cloud, and coco-nut leaves, with
their leaflets pointing downwards, were suspended
close by to represent rain. A torch was ignited
and waved lengthwise over the grave; the smoke
represented clouds and the flames mimicked lightning,
and a bamboo clapper was sounded to
imitate thunder.
The rain was supposed to come when the decoction
round the image was rotten. The incantation
consisted of enumerating various aspects
of certain forms of clouds. Rain could be made
in this manner only by one section of the community,
and amongst these one or two men had a
much greater reputation than the others (29, vi.).
This may be taken as an example of a typical
rain-making ceremony, in which all the phenomena
of a thunder shower are imitated.
If a native of Mabuiag, in Torres Straits, required
rain he went to the rain-maker and asked
him to make some. The latter might reply,
‘You go and put some more thatch on your
house and on mine too’; this was to keep out
the forthcoming rain. The rain-maker painted
the front of his body white, and the back black.
This was explained by my informant thus: ‘All
along same as clouds, black behind, white he go
first,’ or he painted his body with black spots
to make the clouds come separately; when they
congregated, the rain fell. The rain-maker put
‘medicine’ in his right hand and waved it towards
his body and chanted an incantation. To
stop the rain the rain-maker put red paint on
the crown of his head, to represent the shining
sun, and ruddled his body all over. He then lay
doubled up and was closely surrounded with three
mats, so that no wind could penetrate to him.
Finally he burnt some leaves on the sea-shore
close to the water, on a rising tide; the smoke
represented the clouds, and as it was dissipated
so they disappeared, and as the encroaching sea
washed away the ashes, so the clouds were
scattered (29, v. 350).
In the island of Muralug certain old men could
raise a wind by very rapidly whirling a thin bull-roarer
attached to a long string. More wind
could be obtained by climbing to the top of a
tree and performing there. In this case the
noise made by the bull-roarer imitated that
produced by a gale of wind (29, v. 352).
Examples of the magical increase of plants are
found in the ‘yam stones’ placed in their gardens
by various Papuans, which by their rounded shape
suggest the actual tubers (28, 202; 29, vi.).
The following instances are culled from that
treasury of folk custom and belief—The Golden
Bough. In Thüringen the man who sows flax
carries the seed in a long bag which reaches
from his shoulders to his knees, and he walks
with long strides, so that the bag sways to and
fro on his back. It is believed that this will
cause the flax to wave in the wind. In the
interior of Sumatra rice is sown by women who,
in sowing, let their hair hang loose down their
back, in order that the rice may grow luxuriantly
and have long stalks. It is commonly believed in
Germany and Austria that leaping high in the
fields will make the flax or hemp grow tall. A
Bavarian sower, in sowing wheat, will sometimes
wear a golden ring, in order that the corn may
have a fine yellow colour (20, i. 35, 36).
As references are given on pp. 41-44 to magical
practices for the increase of animals, further examples
need not be added here, their object being
to provide plenty of food for the community. It
was for the same reason that images of fish,
turtle, and dugong were made by the islanders
of Torres Straits and taken with them when they
went fishing, with the idea that the image lured
the real animal to its destruction; and men of
the dugong clan who were symbolically decorated
made mimetic movements with a dead dugong to
constrain others to come and be caught (29, v.
337, 182, and vi.).
The same people used to carve small human
effigies out of thin slabs of wood and coat them
with beeswax, or the images were made entirely
of beeswax. These figures were treated in various
ways for nefarious magic, but always the first
action was to call them by the names of the
persons who were to be affected by them. If
the magician pulled an arm or a leg off the
image, the patient felt sore in the corresponding
limb, and became ill, and eventually died in great
pain; should the magician restore the dismembered
limb, the patient would recover. If a
magician pricked with the spine of a sting ray
an image that had been named, the person indicated
would be stung in the same place by a
sting ray when he went fishing on the reef (29,
v. 324). Analogous customs are to this day
practised in Britain. The first example comes
from Ross-shire (48, 373). The corp creagh is a
body of clay rudely shaped into the image of
a person whose hurt is desired. After a tolerably
correct representation is obtained, it is stuck all
over with pins and thorns and placed in a running
stream. As the image is worn away by the
action of the water the victim also wastes away
with some mortal disease. The more pins that
are stuck in from time to time the more excruciating
agony the victim suffers. Should, however,
any wayfarer discover the corp in the stream, the
spell is broken and the victim duly recovers.
From Argyleshire we learn (49, 144) that a long
incantation was used as the pins were being put
in the clay image, the beginning of which was
something to this effect: ‘As you waste away,
may —— waste away; as this wounds you, may
it wound ——.’ When it was desired that the
person should die a lingering death, care was
taken that the pins should not touch where the
heart was supposed to be; but when a speedy
death was desired, the pins were stuck over the
region of the heart. Actual instances of the employment
of the corp chrè or corp chreadh, clay
body or clay corpse (as Dr. Maclagan calls it),
are given by the two authors last cited, one of
which occurred about the year 1899. This practice
is merely the continuance of old customs,
for ‘King James in his Dæmonology, says that
“the devil teacheth how to make pictures of wax
or clay, that by roasting thereof, the persons that
they bear the name of may be continually melted
or dried away by continual sickness”; and in the
eleventh century certain Jews, it was believed,
made a waxen image of Bishop Eberhard, set
about with tapers, bribed a clerk to baptize it,
and set fire to it on the Sabbath, the which
image burning away at the middle, the bishop
fell grievously sick and died’ (70, 124).
Many magical practices and beliefs are difficult
to classify as either contagious or homœopathic
magic; they may even be a mixture of both.
Such is the belief in the power of names or
words, talismans and amulets, divination, and
various practices of public and private magic.
These will be dealt with under separate headings.
A Name is considered by backward folk to be
part and parcel of a living being, and as magic
can be performed on a person through tangible
substances that have come into contact with him,
so magic can be performed or influence exerted
through the utterance of a person’s name. In the
west of Ireland and in Torres Straits people have
refused to tell me their names, though there was
no objection to some one else giving me the information;
the idea evidently being that by telling
their own name to a stranger they were voluntarily
putting themselves into the power of that stranger,
who, by the knowledge of their name so imparted,
could affect them in some way. Over the greater
part of America was spread the belief in a personal
soul, which is neither the bodily life nor yet
the mental power, but a sort of spiritual body.
In many tribes, writes Dr. Brinton (7, 277), this
third soul or ‘astral body’ bore a relation to the
private personal name. Among the Mayas and
Nahuas, it was conferred or came into existence
with the name; and for this reason the personal
name was sacred and rarely uttered. The name
was thus part of the individuality, and through
it the soul could be injured. Professor Rhŷs has
shown (58, 566-7) from philological evidence, that
Aryan-speaking peoples ‘believed at one time not
only that the name was a part of the man, but
that it was that part of him which is termed the
soul, the breath of life.’ The dislike of hearing
their names mentioned is not confined to human
beings, for, as is well known, in the British Islands
the Fairies have a very strong repugnance to being
so called; hence they should be termed the Wee-folk,
the Good People, or by other ambiguous terms.
Certain Scottish and English fishermen believe that
the salmon and pig have a similar objection to
being ‘named,’ but they do not mind being called
respectively the ‘red-fish’ or the ‘queer fellow.’
If power can be exerted over men by the use
of their names, it is only reasonable to believe
that spirits and deities can be similarly influenced.
Torres Straits islanders believe that a
local bogey or a spirit-girl can be summoned by
being mentioned by name (29, v. 14, 86), as the
witch of Endor brought up the spirit of Samuel.
Dr. Frazer (20, i. 443-6) gives examples to show
that people have believed that gods must keep
their true names secret, lest other gods or even men
should be able to conjure with them; even Ra,
the great Egyptian god of the sun, declared that
the name given him by his father and mother
‘remained hidden in my body since my birth,
that no magician might have magic power over
me.’ This probably was one reason why the real
name of supreme Gods was known but to a
chosen few; one instance will suffice. To the
Mohammedans, Allah is but an epithet in place
of the Most Great Name; for, according to a
Moslem belief, the secret of the latter is committed
to prophets and apostles alone. Another
reason is that the utterance of these secret names
gives tremendous power, for (42, 273) those who
know the Most Great Name of God can, by pronouncing
it, transport themselves from place to
place at will, can kill the living, raise the dead
to life, and work other miracles.
According to Jewish tradition, when Lilith,
Adam’s first wife, refused to yield obedience to
him she uttered the Shem-hamphorash, that is,
pronounced the ineffable name of Jehovah and
instantly flew away. This utterance evidently
gave her such power that even Jehovah could
not coerce her, and the three angels, Snoi (Sennoi),
Snsnoi (Sansennoi), and Smnglf (Sammangeloph),
who were sent after her, were contented with a
compromise, and Lilith swore by the name of the
Living God that she would refrain from doing any
injury to infants wherever and whenever she
should find those angels, or their names, or their
pictures, on parchment or paper, or on whatever
else they might be drawn, ‘and for this reason,’
says a rabbinical writer, ‘we write the names of
these angels on slips of paper or parchment, and
bind them upon infants, that Lilith seeing them,
may remember her oath; and may abstain from
doing our infants any injury’ (1, 165). The
custom is still maintained in the east of London
of printing portions of Scripture and these three
names on pieces of paper, which are placed on
the four walls of a room where a baby is expected,
where they remain eight days for a boy
and twenty days for a girl.
Apart from the coercive power which is attributed
to the pronouncing of names, there is an
analogous belief in the utterance of words or
phrases. Those Words of Power have been
classed by Mr. Clodd (11, 194) as: (1) Creative
Words; (2) Mantrams and their kin; (3) Passwords;
(4) Spells or Invocations for conjuring up
the spirit of the dead, or for exorcising demons,
or for removing spells on the living; and (5)
Cure-charms in formulæ or magic words. Mr.
Clodd points out that these classes overlap and
intermingle.
Even among such backward people as the
Australians, certain of the medicine-men or sorcerers
were bards who devoted their poetic
faculties to the purposes of enchantment, such
as the Bunjil-yenjin of the Kurnai, whose peculiar
branch of magic was composing and singing
potent love charms and the arrangement of
marriages by elopement spells (35, 356, 274).
In few countries was the spoken word more
effective than in ancient Ireland; a sorcerer,
whether a druid or not, would stand on one
foot, with one arm outstretched and with one
eye shut, and chant an incantation in a loud
voice (37, i. 240). The grand weapon of the
Irish poets by which they enforced their demands
was the satire. A poet could compose a
satire that would blight crops, dry up milch-cows,
and raise an ulcerous blister on the face.
A story is told (37, i. 454) of Senchán Torpest,
chief poet of Ireland, who lived in the seventh
century, that once when his dinner was eaten
in his absence by rats, he muttered a satire beginning,
‘Rats, though sharp their snouts, are
not powerful in battle,’ which killed ten of them
on the spot. Shakespeare, and other Elizabethan
writers, often refer to the belief that Irish bards
could rhyme rats to death. The Irish geis or
geas [pronounced gesh or gass], plural geasa
[gassa], was the exact equivalent of an ordinary
tabu, but people sometimes put an injunction
on a person in some such form as ‘I place you
under heavy geasa, which no true champion will
break through, to do so and so.’ In this manner,
the witch-lady forces Finn to search for the ring
she had dropped into the lake; and Marbhan put
the arch-poet Senchán Torpest under geasa to
obtain a copy of a lost story. When the request
was reasonable or just the abjured person could
not refuse without loss of honour and reputation
and probably in early days personal harm would
accrue if the geasa were disregarded. The power
of the geis was so strong that when Grania put
Diarmuid under geasa of danger and destruction
to elope with her, he was advised by his friends
against his will to agree: Oisin said, ‘You are
not guilty if the bonds were laid on you,’ and
Osgar said, ‘It is a pitiful man that would break
his bonds’ (25, 347, 8).
Sympathetic magic bulks largely in the life of
backward peoples, not merely in the form of
actions to be performed, but also in those to be
abstained from. The ‘Thou shalt not’ is more
in evidence than ‘Thou shalt.’ The prohibitions
of savages and barbarians are now spoken of
under the general term of tabu. Some tabus
are rational from our point of view, others seem
to us to be utterly irrational, but this does not
affect their validity in any way. So much has
been written on this subject by divers writers that
only one or two examples need be given here.
The subject is again referred to on p. 55.
The old Irish tale, the ‘Bruiden Dá Derga,’
tells of the destruction following the violation
of tabus. Conaire, King of Ulster, was put under
certain geasa by his father, such as: ‘Thou shalt
not go desiul round Tara nor withershins round
Bregia,’ ‘The evil beasts of Cerna must not be
hunted by thee,’ ‘There shall not go before thee
three Reds to the house of Red,’ and others.
But on the way to Dá Derga’s Hostel ‘They
went righthandwise round Tara, and lefthandwise
round Bregia, and the evil beasts of Cerna
were hunted by him, but he saw it not till the
chase had ended.’ Then he saw three red men
going before him to the house of Red, and
Conaire says, ‘All my geasa have seized me to-night,’
and before the next day Conaire and all
his host were destroyed in Dá Derga’s Hostel
(66, xxii.). When Cuchulain was on his way to
his last combat he met three hags, daughters of
a wizard, all blind of the left eye. They were
cooking a dog with poisons and spells on spits
of a rowan tree. It was geis to Cuchulain to eat
at a cooking-hearth, or to eat the flesh of a
hound, but the women put him on his honour
not to refuse the piece they offered him, so he
took it, and all the strength went out of the
left hand in which he took the food (66, iii.).
In the forms of magic we have hitherto considered,
something is done by a human being,
whether by action, representation, or word, but
there is another branch of magic in which the
virtue resides intrinsically in certain objects which
are variously termed charms, talismans, amulets,
or mascots. Those that transmit qualities or are
worn for good luck may be termed talismans,
while the term amulet may be restricted with
advantage to those charms which are preventive
in their action; but the same charm is in
some cases employed for both these purposes.
These objects are continuously effective without
any action on the part of the preparer or wearer,
as they possess power in their own right, but
this is from very diverse causes.
Certain stones from their colour suggest flesh;
thus garnets and carnelians are worn in the
rough or worked into beads as amulets against
skin diseases. Most precious stones are credited
with distinctive properties, and some have a
reputation for being unlucky, as for example the
precious opal. The amethyst, as its name implies,
was regarded by the ancient Greeks as a
charm against becoming intoxicated; among the
ancient Egyptians the amethyst corresponded to
the Zodiacal sign of the Goat, and as the goat
was an enemy to vines, so the amethyst was a
foe to wine. Leland (43, 351) points out that it
also ‘drives away bad thoughts and confers ripe
and happy genius.’ Amber beads are carried by
people of various races for weak eyes, and it is
essential they should be looked through to
strengthen the sight (43, 267). The electrical
power of attraction of light objects by amber
when rubbed was doubtless one cause of its supposed
virtue. The several metals have their
active magical properties. A lump of crude antimony
in Italy is very efficacious when the following
invocation is pronounced: ‘Antimony, who
art of zinc and copper! thou most powerful, I
keep thee ever by me, that thou mayest banish
from me evil people, and bring good luck to me.’
Gold is the most genial or luck-bringing, and,
as a woman said, ‘antimony is stronger than
lead, because it consists of three metals, or rather
always has in it copper and lead’ (43, 373-4).
Colour alone has its magical qualities, hence
the frequency of red woollen thread or stuff in
counter-charms against the evil eye, as an old
saw expresses it: ‘Roan tree and red thread, will
drive the witches aa wud’ (49, 156). For the
same reason red coral is so greatly valued. Blue
is of equal efficacy, hence the wearing of turquoise
by so many Oriental and North African peoples,
and blue beads are worn by people for much the
same reason, that they suspend them round the
necks of donkeys or camels.
When dealing with contagious magic, we saw
that many objects are worn, in order that certain
qualities of the animals from which they were
obtained may be imparted to the wearer. The
wild boar’s tusk, the acquisition of which is
greatly desired by the natives of the Papuan
Gulf as a mark of bravery, is coveted not so
much as a personal ornament, as for the courage,
ferocity, and daring which it is supposed to contain
and to be capable of imparting to any one
who wears it (33, 427). Probably this is the
reason why boars’ tusks are so much prized all
over New Guinea, where they are wrought into
‘ornaments,’ which are carried in the mouth or
worn on the chest when on the war-path. In
West Africa the bones from the legs of tortoises
are much valued as anklets, in order to give the
wearers endurance. The lower jaw-bone of the
tortoise is worn by certain tribes as a preventive
against toothache; in this case the reason
would seem to be that as the tortoise has no teeth
it cannot suffer from toothache, and thus freedom
from toothache can be imparted by that edentulous
jaw. The spinal bones of snakes are strung together
for a girdle as a cure for backache (3, 237).
Africans, according to Arnot (3, 237), believe
largely in preventive measures, and their charms
are chiefly of that order. In passing through a
country where leopards and lions abound, they
carefully provide themselves with the claws,
teeth, lips, and whiskers of those animals, and
hang them around their necks, to secure themselves
against being attacked. For the same
purpose the point of an elephant’s trunk is
generally worn by the elephant-hunters.
A large class of talismans consists of models
or representations of objects, and the attributes
of the original pass on to the symbol. The pig,
perhaps on account of its abundant fecundity, was
primarily sacred to the earth goddess, whether
she was known as Demeter, Ceres, or by any
other name. Leland points out (43, 255) that
little gold and silver pigs were offered to Ceres,
who was pre-eminently a goddess of fertility, and
therefore of good luck and all genial influences.
For these reasons they were worn by Roman
ladies, and ‘lucky pigs’ are still very common
charms, especially in South Germany.
The belief in the evil eye is not only widely
spread, but extremely ancient, and in some places
is still firmly rooted among the folk. ‘Overlooking’
may be intentional, but it is believed
that many persons, without intention and even
against their will, by the glance of their eye, have
caused injurious effects; so that, in some cases,
mothers would not venture to expose their infants
to the look of their own fathers. Plutarch
(18, 13) vouches for this, and admits that envy
exerts an evil influence through the eyes, and
adds that it is wise to employ charms and antidotes
to turn aside these evil glances. A friend
of his stated that some even fascinate themselves
by their own gaze, and alluded to the story of
Eutelidas, who, like Narcissus, fell a victim to
the admiration he felt for his own likeness.
Women and children seem to have been accounted
by all old classical writers as the most liable to
injury. Among the Greeks and Romans statues
of Nemesis were erected which were adored and
invoked to save their worshippers from fascination.
In Rome, according to Pliny, special laws
were enacted against injury to crops by incantation,
excantation, or fascination (18, 15).
‘Eat not the bread of him that hath an evil
eye’ is just as much a maxim to-day as it was
in the time of Solomon, and Mr. Elworthy says
(18, 107) in Naples, at the appearance of a person
having this reputation, a cry of ‘Jettatore!’ is
passed, and even in a crowded street it causes
an instantaneous vanishing of everybody—a rush
up entries, into shops, or elsewhere. Ever since
the establishment of the religious orders, monks
have had the special reputation of possessing the
fatal influence. The last Pope but one, Pius the
Ninth, was firmly believed to have had the evil
eye. A Roman would candidly say: ‘Nothing
succeeds with anybody or anything when he
wishes well to it. When he went to St. Agnese
to hold a great festival, down went the floor, and
the people were all smashed together. Then he
visited the column to the Madonna in the Piazza
di Spagna, and blessed it and the workmen; of
course, one fell from the scaffold the same day
and killed himself’ (18, 23, 25).
Domestic animals always have been considered
as peculiarly susceptible to this evil influence.
Cows are particularly liable to fascination in
Scotland, while in England of all animals the
pig is most often ‘overlooked.’ The Turk and
the Arab think the same of their horses and
camels; above all the Neapolitan cabman of to-day
believes in the great danger to his horse
from the eye of the jettatore.
The commonest of all ancient Egyptian amulets,
except the scarab, was ‘the Eye of Osiris,’ as it
is called by us. These mystic eyes were worn
equally by the living and the dead as amulets;
it being natural, from the associations of homœopathic
magic, that representations of the eye itself
should have been considered potent amulets
against its malign influence. All the peoples
round the Mediterranean employed representations
of eyes as amulets. In Syria and Cairo
necklaces composed of flat glass eyes are sold to
the present day, and eye-designs protect the
clothes, horse trappings, and many of the objects
of daily use of the Moors (72, 211).
Plutarch declares that the objects that are
fixed up to ward off witchcraft or fascination
derive their efficacy from the fact that they act
through the strangeness and ridiculousness of
their forms, which fix the mischief-working eye
upon themselves.
It was this firm belief, says Elworthy (18, 143),
which led to the design of those extremely
grotesque figures, of which the ancient Romans
were so fond; indeed, anything that was ridiculous
or indecent was supposed to be a corrective
to the harmful influence of fascination. Amulets
which protect against this power are of three
classes: (1) Those the object of which was to
attract upon themselves the harmful glance (those
were necessarily exposed to view); (2) charms
worn or carried secretly; and (3) written words
of Scripture, Koran, and other sacred writings,
or cabalistic figures and formulæ (18, 149).
The crescent moon was a symbol of many
deities, Parvati, Devaki, and other Indian goddesses,
Isis, Athena or Minerva, Artemis or Diana
and the Madonna. Artemis or Diana was the
patroness of domestic animals as well as of the
wild creatures of the wood (21, 14); hence we
may trace the extreme prevalence of amulets
symbolic of their attributes upon horses. The
crescent—that is the horned moon—and horns
appear to be interchangeable: thus horns, in one
form or another, are of all objects the most
common as amulets against the evil eye, whether
affecting man or beast; so much so, that at last
it has come to be fully believed by the Neapolitans,
that in default of a horn, in coral or other
form, the mere utterance of the word corno or
corna (‘horn’) is an effectual protection. In
Italy, particularly in Naples, the cart harness is
literally made up of charms and prophylactics,
such as feathers, hair, brightly coloured ribbons,
and especially objects of shining brass; of the
last the crescent is the most common.
It would take too long to describe all the
objects that are employed to counteract the evil
eye in Italy alone. The following may be mentioned:
fish, snakes, and various other animals,
tigers’ teeth, keys, a hunchback (gobbo). A single
pendent horn, whether of coral, shell, or metal is
extremely common, as are miniature hands, these
frequently have all the digits closed up except
the index and little finger, which are fully extended.
This is a potent gesture, and a Neapolitan’s
right hand is almost constantly in that position
pointing downwards, just as the hand-charms
are made to hang downwards, as a prophylactic
against unknown or unsuspected attacks (18, 261).
Dr. Westermarck has recently (72, 211) given
an illuminating description of the use and representations
of the hand against the evil eye in
Morocco.
On studying various kinds of talismans and
amulets, it at once becomes evident that while
some are credited with contagious sympathy,
others are mimetic or symbolic, that is homœopathic
in their action, while there are many
others that owe their efficacy to an intimate
relation with a spiritual being of some kind or
other, or with a deity. The charms of this
third group are to be regarded as fetishes so
long as the recognition lasts that they are dependent
for their virtue upon these extraneous
beings; but when this belief is lost the charm
becomes a mere talisman or amulet. The change
from a fetish to a luck-object is constantly taking
place owing to the despiritualising effect of increasing
civilisation. To take one example, Mr.
E. Lovett first drew my attention to the ‘luck
bones’ that are worn by Whitby, and probably
by other Yorkshire, fishermen, and another friend
subsequently confirmed the fact that these bones
not only bring good fortune but are safeguards
against drowning. The bone in question being
the T-shaped hyoid- or tongue-bone of a sheep,
Mr. Lovett suggested that this bone might have
something to do with Thor’s hammer. Later
Professor Boyd Dawkins showed me the identical
bone worn for a similar purpose by Manx fishermen,
and it is worthy of note that there were
Scandinavian settlements at both Whitby and the
Isle of Man. I informed Herr E. Friedel of these
facts and inferences, and he discovered (22, 412)
that the men in the Berlin slaughter-yards have
a similar custom, the end of the long arm of the
bone being perforated for a thread that is fastened
round the neck of the wearer. On looking
into the archæological evidence he found that in
the early iron age unmistakable representations of
Thor’s hammer were worn as charms in Denmark
and Schleswig-Holstein. In those early days
there can be little doubt that the influence of
the god passed into the models of his weapon,
and that these objects partook of the nature of
fetishes, but later the symbols of the god degenerated
into luck-objects.
Men not only attempt to act directly upon
nature, but they usually exhibit a keen desire to
be guided as to the best course to take when in
doubt, difficulty, or danger, and to be forewarned
of the future. The practice of divination is by
no means confined to professional magicians, or
even to soothsayers, but any one may employ the
accessory means.
Any object may be used in divination: thus in
Europe, as in Torres Straits (29, v. 361), a stick
may be dropped to indicate a direction to be
taken; or coins may be spun or dice thrown.
Divination by means of skulls was common in
Torres Straits (29, v. 362); in this case the spirit
of the dead person was supposed to give the required
advice. Haruspication, or divination by
means of certain viscera, was largely employed by
the Romans, and I have several times seen a pig’s
liver used in Borneo for the same purpose (28, 336,
354). In these instances the message, as indicated
by the state of the particular viscus, was obtained
from a deity. Other examples and varieties of
divination are given by Tylor (71, i. 123).
Magic may be employed for public purposes or
for private ends. In the former case it is almost
invariably for the public weal, in the latter it is
most frequently nefarious.
Among some totemic peoples the men of a
totem group perform magical ceremonies for the
benefit of the community. The best examples
of this communal magic, as it might be termed,
are those described by Messrs. Baldwin Spencer
and Gillen (64, 179-183) as practised by the
Arunta tribe of Central Australia at the intichiuma
ceremonies. For example, the headman
of a local group of the Emu totem and some
other Emu men opened a vein and allowed their
blood to stream on a patch of smooth ground,
until about three yards were saturated. On the
hard surface of the clotted blood the sacred design
of the Emu totem was painted with white,
yellow, red, and black. It represented certain
parts of the emu; two large patches of yellow
indicated lumps of fat, of which the natives are
very fond, but the greater part represented, by
means of circles and circular patches, the eggs
in various states of development, some before and
some after laying. Various sinuous lines indicated
parts of the intestine. Throughout the
ceremony the headman was treated with the
greatest deference, and no one spoke to him except
in a whisper. The sacred wooden slabs
(churinga) were placed on one side of the painting.
In the intervals of a monotonous chant the
headman explained the drawing. Three men
wore a headdress which represented the long
neck and small head of the emu; with a curious
gliding movement they approached the spectators,
occasionally stopping and moving only their
heads, imitating the aimless gazing about of the
bird.
The witchetty grub intichiuma ceremony (64,
170-179) is performed at a special cave, where
lies a large block of quartzite surrounded by
small rounded stones. The former represents
the perfect insect, and the latter its eggs. The
headman and his associates tap the large stone
and chant songs, the burden of which is an invitation
to the insect to lay eggs; the headman
strikes each man with one of the small stones,
saying, ‘You have eaten much food.’ Later
they go to a large rock which they tap, and
invite the animal to come from all directions
and lay eggs. After various symbolic ceremonies
they enter a long narrow booth made of bushes,
which represents the chrysalis case from which
the perfect insect emerges, and there they sing
of the animal in its various stages and of the
sacred stones.
There are many similar ceremonies which the
men of a totem group make in order to increase
or produce their particular totem; thus, taking
the tribe as a whole, the object of these ceremonies
is that of increasing the total food supply
(64, 315-319). Among the Arunta and Ilpirra
only the men of the totem are allowed to be
present or to take part in the actual ceremony.
During its progress there is always some ceremony,
such as that of allowing the blood of young
men of the totem to flow over the stone which
is associated with the ancestors of the totem.
The idea of this is to send the spirits of the
animals out of the stone to replenish the stock
of the totemic animal. After the ceremony, when,
as a consequence, the animal or plant has become
abundant, the men of all classes and totems go
out and bring supplies into the main camp. No
one as yet may eat it. The headman of the
totem, in the presence of all in camp, solemnly
eats a little and hands the remainder over to
the men of the other totems, telling them to
eat freely. If the headman did not eat a little
he would lose the power of performing intichiuma
successfully.
In other tribes to the north similar ceremonies
exist, but they are less elaborate and sometimes
of the simplest description. The headman of the
white cockatoo totem group and his son spent
the whole of one night ‘singing’ the cockatoo.
In the Wara tribe on the shore of the Gulf of
Carpentaria a man of the rain-group goes to a
pool, and, taking care that no women or strangers
are in sight, bends down over and ‘sings’ the
water; then he takes some up in his hands,
drinks it, and spits it out in various directions.
After that he throws water all over himself, and
after scattering some all round he returns quietly
to his camp, and rain is supposed to follow (64,
314). There is very little difference between
this act and ordinary individual magic, the essential
distinction being that the man in this case
makes rain by virtue of rain being his totem, it
being a function of human male members of the
totem group to increase their totem.
When the totemic system falls into decay there
seems to be a tendency for the old magical ceremonies
which had for their purport the increase
of the totem, to be performed by certain families,
rather than by groups of men; this appears to be
associated with the growth of property in land,
so that in time the performance of certain ceremonies
is restricted to a single man, who transmits
the right to his son, and they alone of the community
have this duty. There is nothing to
distinguish men with these rights from ordinary
sorcerers who practise definite departments of
magic.
A very large number of examples of public
magical ceremonies, undertaken for the good of
the community, have been collected by Dr. Frazer
in his Golden Bough; of especial interest are
those connected with the production of abundant
harvests, and the active participation of women
in such customs is very significant. I here give
an example recently published by Miss Mary
Owen (56, 60). The Corn-planting dance of the
Musquakie or Fox Indians takes place in April,
though the real corn-planting commences about
the 1st of May. It is danced by men only; they
trot at sunrise along the east side of a cornfield
selected by the shaman, going in single file with
their rattles and little tambourines or prayer
drums, while a young maiden goes into the field
and plants a few grains from a perfect ear handed
to her by the Honourable Women (women who
have borne sons). If the harvest of the year
before was scant the dancers may go entirely
round the field. Afterwards there is some eating
and drinking, but not an elaborate feast.
Formerly the real planting of the field followed
the ceremonial, and no food was eaten until the
women had finished planting. Another old custom
was to have the maid who did the planting
given a husband, who went with her into the
field. Later a prophet had a revelation that this
custom should cease. The day is at the present
time a favourite one for weddings.
Individuals frequently practise magic for private
ends, of which the objects to be attained may be
perfectly legitimate or even praiseworthy, but
more frequently recourse is had to magical practices
for harmful purposes.
Folk remedies for sickness and pains are very
frequently of a purely magical character. For
example, a common cure for warts is to rub them
with a piece of raw meat, which must then be
buried; as the meat decays so will the warts disappear:
to be effective the meat should be stolen.
A woman in Islay was cured of toothache by a
man driving a nail into the upper lintel of the
kitchen door; he told her to keep it there, and,
should it become loose at any time, to tap it a
little with a hammer until it had a grip, and he
assured her she would be free from toothache.
She never again suffered from toothache (49, 158).
Any variety or combination of varieties of sympathetic
magic may be employed in the manufacture
or practice of love-charms; frequently
they are fortified by the subtle association of
scent. Doubtless certain scents have a direct
stimulating effect, but, apart from this, should any
scent be definitely worn when young men wish
to attract girls, there can be no doubt that the
suggestion would tend to act powerfully upon
the latter, and that ‘girl-medicine,’ as I have
heard it called, would of itself be potent even if
other practices were not employed. I was told
by a Torres Straits islander that just as a snake
that is in one tree can, by swallowing its spittle,
make a bird that is in another tree come to it,
so if a man chews a certain medicine and a girl
sees him swallowing the infusion in his saliva,
she understands what the man means and is
constrained to go to him (29, v. 328).
Various instances of nefarious magic have
been given in the preceding pages. A good
example came under my own observation. In
Torres Straits there is a vine-like plant that loses
its leaves at a certain season of the year, and
the stem breaks up into joints, which often bear
a striking resemblance to some of the long bones
of the human skeleton. This circumstance led
magicians to employ these sticks to make human
beings into similar dried and shrivelled-up objects.
The dry segments of the vine were collected
and the magician gave the name of some
part of the body to each joint: for example, one
would be called an ‘arm,’ another a ‘leg,’ and so
forth. The magician crouched like a fish-eagle
and, imitating the way that a bird tears flesh off
bones, threw the segments behind him without
looking round. If he left the spot without turning
round to look at the sticks the patient would
die; but if he did not wish to proceed to this
extremity, he turned and looked at the segments,
and subsequently he would return and pick them
up and place them together and put ‘medicine’ on
them, and the patient would recover (29, v. 325).
The following account recently published by
Mrs. J. Gunn (26, 98) is so characteristic that I
quote it nearly verbatim. In North Australia
any one can ‘sing magic,’ even lubras [women],
but of course the wise old magic men do it best.
It never fails with them, particularly if they
‘sing’ and point one of the special ‘death-bones’
or ‘sacred stones’ of the tribe. Generally a black
fellow goes away quite by himself when he is
‘singing magic,’ but very occasionally a few men
join together, as they did in the case of ‘Goggle
Eye.’ When enough magic has been ‘sung’ into
the bone, it is taken away to the camp, and very
secretly pointed at the unconscious victim. The
magic spirit of the bone runs into the man who
is pointed at, and gradually kills him. Of course
the man who has been ‘sung’ must be told somehow,
or he will not get a fright and die. There
are many ways of managing this; one very good
way is to put the bone where he will be sure to
find it, in his dilly-bag, or near his fire, or through
the handle of his spear; but the man who leaves
the bone about must, of course, be very careful to
destroy his own tracks. ‘Goggle Eye,’ after he had
found the bones lying about, knew exactly what
was going to happen to him, and of course it did.
His throat got very sore, and he grew so thin
and weak that he could hardly stand. A man
can be cured by magic men charming the
‘bone’ away again; but ‘Goggle Eye’ was old,
and, what was worse, he was getting very cross,
and too fond of ordering people about, so the
black fellows thought it would be the best plan
not to cure him, and a few more sneaked away
into the bush and ‘sang’ some more bones, and
pointed them at him to make quite sure about
his dying. Poor old ‘Goggle Eye’ suffered dreadfully;
no native would help him except his blood-brother,
because they were afraid of the curse
coming to them. Some said they would like to
help, but that if they made ‘Goggle Eye’s’ fire for
him, their own would never burn again. Nobody
could even carry his food to him. Soon after, at
‘fowl sing out,’ or cockcrow, he died.
Most forms of magic can be performed by anybody
provided he knows what to do; but there
are specialists in magic, who, by us, are variously
termed medicine-men, magicians, sorcerers, wizards,
witches, wise women, and the like. Their lore is
transmitted orally to their disciples, who may or
may not be their own children. Magical powers
may be due to the mere accident of birth, as
for example in the European belief in the therapeutic
gifts of the seventh son of a seventh son.
In some cases the sorcerer has to undergo a rigorous
training, often being subjected to painful or
loathsome ordeals; by these means the weaklings
are eliminated, and those who persist have their
character and fortitude strengthened, and they
gain increased respect from their fellow-men.
Further, in Australia and elsewhere, the medicine-man
is not always a ‘doctor’; he may be a ‘rain-maker,’
‘seer,’ or ‘spirit-medium,’ or may practise
some special form of magic.
Usually the sorcerers unite together to form
a society, which may attain great influence among
backward races. According to Leland (43, 10),
‘there is actually in Tuscany a culture or worship
of fetishes which are not Catholic, i.e. of strange
stones and many curious relics. But there is a
great deal of mystery and secrecy observed in
all this cult. It has its professors; men, but
mostly women, who collect charms and spells,
and teach them to one another, and hold meetings;
that is, there is a kind of college of witches
and wizards, which, for many good reasons, eludes
observation.’ The old faith, as it is termed, is
pre-Christian, but not actively anti-Christian.
The superficial observer is apt to regard the
medicine-men or sorcerers as cheats who deliberately
humbug their neighbours; but it is probable
that most of them really believe themselves
to be possessed of occult or supernormal power.
Doubtless they do many things for mere effect,
in order to enhance the respect they desire to
have paid to themselves personally, as well as
to put the subjects or spectators into a proper
frame of mind; but this is precisely what is deliberately
done by the organisers of all ceremonies
by all peoples. Doubtless, also, many acts are
performed which are intended to impose upon
the credulity of others; but this is a device which
is not unknown among cultured people, as, for
example, the liquefying of the blood of St.
Januarius in Naples. There remain, however, a
large number of phenomena, which are as mysterious
to them as they are to the vast majority
of mankind, and many of these are receiving the
attention of psychologists of the present day,
without their significance being understood. Mr.
Podmore (55, 373) is not afraid to say that ‘many
of the alleged wonders of witchcraft and of ancient
magic in general, when disentangled from the
accretions formed round them by popular myth
and superstition, present a marked resemblance
to some of the facts recorded’ in his book.
The mental equilibrium of many backward
peoples is very unstable, although they may
not suffer from the same derangements of the
nervous system that affect the more highly civilised
peoples. To take an example or two of this
nervous instability, Castren observed long ago
that if the Samoyeds were sitting around inside
their skin tents in the evening, and some one
crept up and struck the tent, half of them were
likely to fall into cataleptic fits. Bogoras (5, 42)
refers to the well-known Arctic hysteria which
is so widespread among the Yukaghir and Lamut
women, and to a less extent among the Chukchee,
the Russianised, and even the Russian women.
This disease develops chiefly in the form of an
uncontrollable desire to repeat in a loud voice
each word spoken by somebody else, and to
imitate every sudden gesture or action. This is
the same nervous disorder as the widely spread
lâtah of Malaysia, which has been so admirably
described by Sir F. A. Swettenham (68, 64).
The far-reaching power of suggestion has been
perhaps the most potent factor in upholding
magical practices, especially when it is combined
with hypnotism. The hypnotic state, it must be
remembered, though ordinarily produced by another,
can be self-induced by gazing at an object.
There is an overwhelming number of modern instances
of bad habits, various diseases, inflammations,
local and general pain, insomnia, neurasthenia,
psychic paralysis, and psychic hysteria,
being cured by suggestion while the patient is
in the hypnotic state (31, 607). Conversely pain,
inflammations, and other organic changes can be
produced through the same means; such is the
explanation of the appearance of stigmata on the
hands and feet of religious ecstatics, who had
induced auto-hypnotism by intently gazing on
the Figure on the Cross. The cataleptic and
anæsthetic conditions producible by hypnotism
are well known all over the world, and have for
ages been part of the stock-in-trade of sorcerers,
medicine-men, or of certain religious enthusiasts.
Suggestion alone, without the aid of hypnotism,
can effect wonders, and faith-cures and
Christian science are by no means a new thing
under the sun, but something very old under
new names. Probably every physician has known
cases of ‘persons who died because they did not
want to live or were at least indifferent; and
probably an equal number who materially lengthened
their lives by the mere determination not
to die’ (67, 612).
‘The psychology of the matter,’ writes Marett
(51, 143), ‘is up to a certain point simple enough.
Just as the savage is a good actor, throwing himself
like a child into his mime, so he is a good
spectator, entering into the spirit of another’s
acting, herein again resembling the child, who
can be frightened into fits by the roar of what
he knows to be but a “pretended” lion. Even
if the make-believe is more or less make-believe
to the victim, it is hardly less efficacious; for,
dominating, as it tends to do, the field of attention,
it racks the emotional system, and, taking
advantage of the relative abeyance of intelligent
thought and will, sets stirring all manner of deep-lying
impulses and automatisms.’
All peoples have prohibitions of certain kinds,
and most have a firm belief that should these
tabus be broken dire consequences will befall the
offender. Occasionally the punishment is effected
by the social executive, through representatives
of secret societies or by other means; but usually
it is left in the hands, so to speak, of the outraged
spiritual powers, and so strong is this belief
that it drees its own weird. For example,
Father Merolla (54, xvi. 238) tells of a young
Congo negro who, being on a journey, lodged at
a friend’s house; the latter got a wild hen for his
breakfast, and the young man asked if it were
a wild hen. His host replied ‘No.’ Then he fell
on heartily, and afterwards proceeded on his
journey. After four years these two met together
again, and his old friend asked him ‘If he would
eat a wild hen,’ to which he answered that it was
tabooed to him. ‘Hereat the host began immediately
to laugh, inquiring of him, “What made
him refuse it now, when he had eaten one at his
table about four years ago?” At the hearing
of this the negro immediately fell a-trembling,
and suffered himself to be so far possessed with
the effects of imagination that he died in less
than twenty-four hours after.’ Armit (2, 459)
relates that an Australian died of fright within a
fortnight after he had discovered his sick wife
had lain upon his blanket. Nowhere is the power
of taboo greater than among the Polynesians.
And examples of its potency in procuring its
own fulfilment in the Heroic Age of Ireland
have already been given (p. 29).
No wonder then that belief in the magical
powers of sorcerers can cause the same effects.
Messrs. Spencer and Gillen (64, 537) state that
the Australian natives believe that any bone,
stick, spear, etc., which has been ‘sung’ is supposed
to be endowed with what the natives call
Arungquiltha, that is, magical poisonous properties,
and any native who believes that he has
been struck by, say, a charmed spear, is almost
sure to die, whether the wound be slight or
severe, unless he be saved by the counter magic
of a medicine-man. He simply lies down, refuses
food, and pines away. Actual instances are given
of men with slight wounds dying in a few days
from this belief.
There can be no doubt that magical practices
can act by suggestion through fear and fascination
upon human victims who are aware of their
occurrence, and it is probable that in most cases
the victim is made aware of such practices as in
the instance given on p. 49. Also there is every
reason to believe that all backward peoples, including
the sorcerers themselves, believe in the
power of magic. Casalis (10, 275) gives an instructive
instance in point. A chief of the Basutos
once held forth in his presence on the matter
of sorcery: he said, ‘Sorcery only exists in the
mouths of those who speak of it. It is no more
in the power of man to kill his fellow by the
mere effect of his will, than it would be to raise
him from the dead. This is my opinion. Nevertheless,
you sorcerers who hear me speak, use
moderation.’
Probably more widely spread than is usually
accepted is the belief of some backward peoples,
and therefore of their magicians, in a spiritual
force that accomplishes their desires; such, for
example, as the mana of the Melanesians. ‘The
Melanesian mind,’ writes Dr. Codrington (12, 118),
‘is entirely possessed by the belief in a supernatural
power or influence, called almost universally
mana. This is what works to effect everything
which is beyond the ordinary power of
man, outside the common processes of nature;
it is present in the atmosphere of life, attaches
itself to persons and to things, and is manifested
by results which can only be ascribed to
its operation. When one has got it he can use
it and direct it, but its force may break forth
at some new point; the presence of it is ascertained
by proof. A man comes by chance upon
a stone which takes his fancy; its shape is singular,
it is like something, it is certainly not a
common stone, there must be mana in it. So
he argues with himself, and he puts it to the
proof; he lays it at the root of a tree to the
fruit of which it has a certain resemblance, or
he buries it in the ground when he plants a
garden; an abundant crop on the tree or in the
garden shows that he is right, the stone is mana,
has that power in it. Having that power, it is
a vehicle to convey mana to other stones. In
the same way certain forms of words, generally
in the form of a song, have power for certain
purposes; a charm of words is called mana. But
this power, though itself impersonal, is always
connected with some person who directs it; all
spirits have it, ghosts generally, some men. If
a stone is found to have a supernatural power
it is because a spirit has associated itself with
it. A dead man’s bone has with it mana, because
the ghost is with the bone; a man may
have so close a connection with a spirit or ghost
that he has mana in himself also, and can so
direct it as to effect what he desires. All conspicuous
success is a proof that a man has
mana; his influence depends on the impression
made on the people’s mind that he has it.’ If
a man has been successful in fighting, it is not
through his own qualities, but ‘he has certainly
got the mana of some deceased warrior to empower
him, conveyed in an amulet of a stone
round his neck, or a tuft of leaves in his belt,
in a tooth hung upon the finger of his bow
hand, or in the form of words with which he
brings supernatural assistance to his side.’
The Omaha (19) believe that a man’s own
will can act directly on his fellows by singing
certain songs; this act is called wazhin-dhedhe,
that is ‘directive energy, to send’; the Omaha
term ‘signifies to send forth one’s thought and
will power toward another in order to supplement
his strength, and thereby affect his action,’
or, as we should term it, telepathy. By an appeal
to Wakanda (that is ‘immanent life manifest in
all things,’ or the ‘hidden and mysterious power
which brings to pass’), in the rite of vision, the
man’s powers could be supplemented by the
co-operation of the elements and of animals.
The innate spirituality of the savage appears
to be largely ignored by students, who usually
dub the magic worker as a conscious cheat and
humbug, whereas it seems to be more correct to
regard him as dealing with material objects mainly
as endowed with life (Animism; 50, 171), or as the
vehicles of spiritual or supernatural power, and
by means of such objects or by the shafts of
speech he can effectively project his will.
If then, as Mr. Marett points out (51, 150), the
occult projectiveness of the magical act is naturally
and almost inevitably interpreted as an
exertion of will that somehow finds its way to
another will and dominates it, the spell or uttered
‘must’ will tend to embody the very life and soul
of the affair. Nothing finds its way home to
another’s mind more sharply. It is the very type
of a spiritual projectile.
In many examples of magical procedure the
magician appears to act directly upon nature, and
seeks to enforce the action of his will by the
power of the spoken word or spell. In other
cases he obtains power from energy derived from
something outside of himself; for example, the
shaman of Siberia may be possessed by a spirit,
or the magician may even be possessed by a god.
Thus by insensible stages do we arrive at actions
that may better be described as religious or
theurgic than as magical. Numerous examples
of transition stages are given by Mr. W. W. Skeat
(63). The god-inspired magician may become an
actual deity, for many royal magicians, who are
more especially rain-makers, are regarded, as Dr.
Frazer has recently pointed out, as incarnate gods
in Africa and elsewhere (21). Concurrently with
ideas of personification and progressive deification
the spell evolves into prayer. On the other
hand, power may be obtained over deities by
practices that are essentially magical, as, for
example, by uttering the ineffable name, or by
spells and incantations, and these may at the
same time be associated with prayer, or the
prayer itself may degenerate into a spell.
However it may be with human beings, few
culture-folk will admit that sorcerers can effect
the ordinary phenomena of nature, and in this
respect, at all events, they should soon become
discredited. On one occasion in Murray Island,
Torres Straits, a native showed me two stones
in a recess on the foreshore which were pointed
at by men holding certain leaves which were
left there. A ‘big wind’ would immediately
arise which lasted until the plants were removed.
This zogo was employed only in the season of
the South-east trade wind. On my asking
whether the ceremony was done in the North-west
monsoon, my informant said emphatically,
‘Can’t do it in North-west.’ That is, the charm
is performed only at that season of the year
when the required result is possible—indeed,
when it is of normal occurrence (28, 60; 29,
vi.) In this, as in other cases, I found that
the impossible was never attempted. A rain
charm would not be made when there was no
expectation of rain coming, or a south-east wind
be raised during the wrong season. Probably
this is the experience of others elsewhere, and
thus it is not remarkable if the desired result
frequently follows the performance of the charming.
A loophole is generally provided in case of
failure. Either some irregularity or mistake
occurred in the performance of the charm, or
another sorcerer was performing contrary magic
which proved of greater potency.