CHAPTER XII.

Worship of Animals, Trees, and Inanimate Objects.

SIR JOHN LUBBOCK in his work on the 'Origin of Civilization' has some interesting remarks on the subject of animalworship, and shows that zoolatry has always prevailed among uncivilized and half-civilized races in every part of the globe. Mr. E. B. Tylor in the second volume of his 'Primitive Culture' and Mr. Fergusson in his 'Tree and Serpent Worship' go ably into the same subject. All three writers give abundant instances.

It is found, for example, that serpents either have been or still are objects of worship in Egypt1, Persia, Kashmir, India, China, Thibet, Ceylon, Babylonia, Phoenicia, Greece, Italy, Lithuania, and among the Kalmucks and many uncultured tribes of Africa and America.

My remarks in the present chapter must of course be limited to India, but a difficult question meets us at the very threshold:-Can any satisfactory account be given of the origin of zoolatry in that country and its continued prevalence there to this very day?

I need scarcely point out that because animal-worship is common among numerous races in other parts of the world, it does not follow that it may not have originated

1 The Egyptians, who were the first educators of the world, adored, as every one knows, the bull Apis, the bird Ibis, the hawk, the crocodile, and many other animals. The mummified cat is a familiar object in the British Museum.

independently in India. The human mind, like the body, goes through similar phases everywhere, develops similar proclivities, and is liable to similar diseases. It is certain that every form of Fetishism and Totemism, of stone-worship, tree-worship, and animal-worship, as well as every variety of polytheistic and pantheistic superstition, have sprung up spontaneously and flourished vigorously on Indian soil.

The motives, too, which have prompted men to worship animals in India, are probably similar to those which have actuated them elsewhere. It is thought by some that an animal may receive adoration for any one of three reasons. 1. Because, like an elephant or lion, it happens to possess superhuman strength and courage; 2. because it is believed to be an incarnation of the deity; 3. because it is regarded as a totem or representative of a tribe or family, the word totem being derived from an American Indian word dodaim, which signifies the patron or typical animal of a tribe. For it is remarkable that in America every member of a tribe or clan may be called by the name of some animal, as, for example, a bear, or a tortoise; pictures of these animals standing for the whole clan, very much as animals are used typically in the armorial bearings of some English families in England, and just as in South Africa we hear of men of the fish, men of the crocodile, &c. (Tylor's 'Primitive Culture,' ii. 235.)

One writer is inclined to lay great stress on Totemism as a motive for zoolatry. He thinks that an individual or family called after a bear would be inclined to worship the bear. I cannot believe that such a motive had much weight in India. It is true that the word sinh (for Sanskrit sinha) is often appended to the names of men (as in Amara-sinha, Ran-jit-sinh); and in other parts of India the expressions 'man-lion,' 'man-tiger,' 'man-bull,' etc. denote a man remarkable for courage or strength; but as a matter of fact the names of the animals most worshipped in India-with

the exception, perhaps, of Nāga-are not generally applied to human beings. It seems to me more probable that Indian animal-worship is to be accounted for by the working of one or other of the motives, gratitude, fear, or awe, operating separately, in separate cases.

For instance, a Hindu worships a cow because he is profoundly sensible of the services it renders him; he worships a serpent because he dreads its power of destroying him by the slightest puncture; and he worships a monkey because he stands in awe of the marvellous instinct it displays. In short, his zoolatry is simply the expression of an exaggerated or intensified feeling of admiration for the three qualities, utility, brute strength, and instinct, manifesting themselves in animal nature. It must not be forgotten, too, that with a Hindū all organic life is sacred. Even plant-life is to be respected, and must not wantonly be destroyed.

Without doubt this feeling is strengthened by the intense hold which the doctrine of metempsychosis has on the Hindū mind. It is difficult, as we have already seen, for any believer in Hinduism to draw a line of demarcation between gods, men, and animals. If men depend on animals, so also do the gods; if men are associated with animals, so also are the gods. Brahma is carried on a goose (hansa); Vishņu on an eagle (Garuda), which is also half a man; Šiva on a bull (Nandi).

Other deities are associated with other animals1. Nor must we forget that Vishnu's first three incarnations are. zoomorphic. He infuses his essence into the fish, the tortoise, and the boar (see pp. 107-109), with the object of delivering the world, or aiding it in certain special exigencies. This seems absurd to our ideas, but not to a Hindu who

1 The association of great heroes and saints with animals is not confined to India, for we find three of the Evangelists (St. Mark, St. Luke, and St. John) associated with a lion, ox, and eagle, respectively.

firmly believes that the supreme soul of the universe, like the soul of man, may pass into any kind of animal form.

It is said of Dr. Duff-to whose labours at Calcutta India is so deeply indebted that he was once examining a school of boys in India, and wishing to ridicule this idea of animal incarnations, said to the boys, 'Can any boy tell me whether it is likely that God's spirit would associate itself with a snail?' No one answered for some time; at last an intelligent lad said, 'I think He might condescend to do so, if any useful purpose were to be served thereby for the good of His creatures.' 'Then,' said Dr. Duff, 'you think as a fool.' But did the boy really think foolishly? and had he the worst of the encounter in his little brush with the Scotch giant?

Again, it is owing to a belief in this same doctrine of metempsychosis that a Hindū has no difficulty in believing that a beast, bird, or reptile may at any moment develope human faculties and functions. According to popular belief there are eighty-four lakhs of different species of animals through which a man is liable to pass. Even a noxious insect, therefore, may enclose the soul of some person who was once a sage, a saint, or an orator. It is on this account that the excellent stories about talking animals and their sayings and doings, everywhere current in India, are to the generality of unthinking Hindūs not mere fables, but true narratives. A beast or bird may on special occasions speak with a human voice, engage in long arguments, acquire profound learning, and be troubled with a sense of right and wrong, without violating any law of organized life, or outraging any of the usual ideas of probability.

It is on this account, too, that no man, woman, or child among the Hindūs will venture to kill an animal of any kind. Everywhere in India animals of every description appear to live on terms of the greatest confidence and intimacy with human beings. Everywhere they dispute possession of the

earth with man. Birds build their nests and lay their eggs in the fields, untroubled by fears or misgivings, before the very eyes of every passer-by, and within the reach of every village school-boy. Animals of all kinds rove over the soil as if they were the landlords. Here and there a needy farmer may drive them from his crops, but he dares not question their claim to a portion of the food he eats and the house he occupies; while everywhere in the towns they are admitted, so to speak, to the privileges of fellow-citizens. Bulls walk about independently in the streets, and jostle you on the pavements; monkeys domesticate themselves jauntily on the roof of your house; parrots peer inquisitively from the eaves of your bedroom into the mysteries of your toilet; crows make themselves at home on your window-sill, and carry off impudently any portable article of jewelry that takes their fancy on your dressing-table; sparrows hop about impertinently, and take the bread off your table-cloth; a solitary mongoose emerges every morning from a hole in your verandah, and expects a share in your breakfast; swarms of insects claim a portion of your midday meal, and levy a tax on the choicest delicacies at your dinner table; bats career triumphantly about your head as you light yourself to your bed-room; and at certain seasons snakes domicile themselves unpleasantly in the folds of your cast-off garments.

I need say no more to make it clear that, in the eyes of the orthodox Hindū, every animal is more or less sacred and inviolable. Let me rather proceed to note some of the more interesting examples of actual animal-worship. And first let us turn our attention to three classes of animals, the adoration of which probably results from the operation of the three motives I have already suggested.

In the forefront must be placed the worship of the cow, the ox, and the bull. The utility of the cow as a source of nourishment to a people who never kill animals for food, and of the ox to agriculturalists who have no cart-horses for