migration of souls to other bodies is adopted, or a theory of continued existence in a separate state. Under the first there is transmigration to inferior forms, such as animals, and even trees, or even inanimate objects, or to higher forms of being. Under the latter there are commonly two states of existence-a bright and a gloomy, a blessed and a miserable.

The questions which arise in this relation are these: How far are ethical elements to be found in the varied theories of a future state? And, where present, what philosophic significance attaches to them?

In reply to the first, I would remark that, after having gone carefully over the large array of examples given by Mr. Tylor, I am unable to select any instance in which an ethical element is not present. Mr. Tylor himself being apparently of a contrary opinion,* I shall refer to the most prominent of the examples which he regards as favouring that view, or at least appears to regard in this light; for his words are not quite explicit. The first example to which he points is from the testimony of Ellis, in the "Polynesian Researches."† The passage is of some importance in the discussion. After telling us of the place of misery and place of blessedness in which the South Sea Islanders believe, he says, "I never could learn that they expected, in the world of spirits, any difference in the treatment of a kind, generous, peaceful man, and that of a cruel, parsimonious, quarrelsome one." There is one thing, as it seems to me, peculiar in the test which Mr. Ellis here employed. The virtues named are kindness, generosity, and gentleness. Now these are of all the virtues those which savages are least likely to esteem; and when over against them are set cruelty, parsimony, and quarrelsomeness, these are, in the same way, the vices which savages were little likely to condemn. If we are to judge of the presence or absence of ethical convictions, it is clear we must look for evidence by referring to virtues most likely to be esteemed among the people, if any are. If Mr. Ellis had spoken of courage, endurance, and perseverance, the test would have been in every way more natural. And that in this case the test has not brought out a sufficiently trustworthy result I think is shown from other parts of Ellis's book. He tells us that the abode of spirits is called Po, the state of night; but heaven is called Miru, sweetscented Rohutu, and glorious Tamahani; and then he adds that these two places "were the destiny of individuals, altogether irrespective of their moral character and virtuous conduct." And this last remark is confirmed thus far, that he informs us that a most profligate race of priests were believed to be raised to the Elysian state merely on the ground of their priesthood. But here it is to be borne in mind that profligate as these men were, their profligacy was connected with their religious rites, and they were regarded as holy

men on account of their office. Nay, more, these priests were supposed to continue in the Elysian state the very same profligate indulgence practised here. But that this did not involve an utter disregard of moral distinctions in the future condition of men generally Mr. Ellis shows by telling us that, according to the belief of the natives, every discase was inflicted by the gods for some crime. Further, in the description given of their burial rites, he informs us that a priest offered a prayer—

"That all the dead man's sins, and especially that for which his soul had been called to the Po, might be deposited there * in the grave. And again, "All who were employed in embalming. were . . carefully avoided,

as the guilt of the crime for which the deceased had died, was supposed in some degree to attach to such as touched the body." . . . "As soon as the ceremony of depositing the sins in the hole was over, all who had touched the body fled precipitately into the sea, to cleanse themselves from the pollution." ↑

I think it is here shown that the test of Mr. Ellis is not altogether reliable, and this instance, selected as being the most decided of the number, may be taken as illustrating my meaning in saying that all the examples given appear to involve moral distinctions, even though a contrary opinion be expressed by the author.

In confirmation of what I have said as to the necessity of testing the point in dispute by a reference to virtues such as the people are likely to appreciate, I can only point to such examples as these, that according to the Greenlanders it is only valiant workers who go to the happy land of the Great Spirit; that, in the eyes of Indians of Virginia, those who have defended their country are the good; with the Tupinambas of Brazil, the effeminate are the worthless, who go to the Evil Spirit for not defending their country; and so with the Caribs, the brave ones of their nation "go, after death, to happy islands." It does not alter the matter, that with most, if not all of these tribes, the good are themselves, and the wicked are their. enemies; for the distinction is thereby at least recognised, while it is clear that, even among themselves, the cowardly and self-indulgent are accounted wicked.

To pass now to more general considerations, applicable equally to the transmigration theory, and to the theory of continued separate existence, it seems to me that wherever diversity of experience is affirmed of those who enter the future state, some explanation of that diversity is needful. Take the transmigration theory. If some souls go to dwell in beasts or inanimate objects, while others are elevated to the rank of subordinate deities, in a spiritualised body, we need some explanation of the marked difference. Or, taking the continued existence of the souls apart from the body, if there are two states for such souls, we need some key to the duality. Now, Tylor, ii. 79.

• i. 402.

† i. 403.

under both schemes, such duality appears to be almost uniform; and of this fact I can see no adequate explanation but the recognition of a moral element. In the vast majority of cases the existence of such an element is unmistakable; and, in more doubtful cases, this seems a more natural explanation than any other which has been offered. On this point, however, I shall quote the opinion of Mr. Tylor as to retribution. He says:

"It is well not to speak too positively on a subject so difficult and doubtful as this of the history of the belief in future retribution. But on the whole, the evidence tends towards the opinion that the genuine savage doctrine of the future life either involves no moral retribution, or accepts it only at a rudimentary stage. In adopting this opinion, however, we are left to deal with several statements recorded among low races, assigning reward and punishment to good and bad men after death."*

Though I am not able to concur in the view thus taken, I grant the importance of what Mr. Tylor urges, when he says, "We must not too readily interpret good and bad according to the highest moral ideas of the lower races, and still less according to civilized definitions of vice and virtue." But I have already shown that a regard to this difference of standard rather favours the opinion that there are ethical elements present, than points to the opposite. The case of the Tonga Islands is perhaps the most difficult, where an aristocratic feature comes in sight, though a good deal of uncertainty hangs over the question whether there be no more than this, and the example I have already given of the native of Tonga, squeezing the hand, and saying, "This will die, but the life that is within you will never die," seems to me evidence, almost amounting to certainty, that there is something more. But wherever there is a soul-conflict after death, which some escape, and under which others fall, as with the Greenlanders, the Fijians, and the negroes of Guinea, there is a plain reference to retribution. And when Mr. Tylor says of the Mintira of the Malay Peninsula, that they do not believe “in a future reward and punishment," + and yet tells us of a happy paradise or "Fruit Island," and of a desolate retreat, known as "Red Land," we want some deeper explanation than is contained in the reference to the fact that those slain in battle go to the Red Land. And so in cases where the duality of states does not markedly appear, as with the Nicaraguans, there is still a twofold experience, pointing equally to an ethical distinction, for, according to them, "if a man lived well, his soul would ascend to live among the gods; but if ill, it would perish with the body, and there would be an end to it."+

But if we find far and wide-without positively saying in all cases -a recognition of moral distinctions in the theories of the future

ii. 83.

+ ii. 79.

ii. 19.

state, what philosophic account may be given of this? We cannot content ourselves with a vague utterance, such as, that "it has come into men's minds" to think in this way, or in that. We must ask how such things came into men's minds. And if a progressive theory have any value in it—if it be framed on the acknowledgment that logical consistency runs through even savage theories—if it point to an ampler use of reason as the condition of progress-the progress referred to is not mere movement, in the sense of continuance on the same level, but progress from lower to higher conceptions of man's life and destiny. If this be the very meaning of a progressive theory, then the lower which leads to the higher cannot adequately, of itself, explain that which is higher, any more than the less can account for the greater. It is not new experience which accounts for new thought, but new thought which leads into new experience. The development of loftier phases of human theory does not come into man's mind, but comes out of that region. If savages regard themselves as possessed of a spiritual nature-if they consider that their personality may continue, though the body dieand if "the doctrine of a future life is the all but necesyou say that sary outcome of savage animism" or belief in spirits, you still want a philosophic theory as to the possibility of all this. If savages have a recognition of the distinction between mental and bodily life, it is because of what they know of themselves. If they believe that the mind can exist apart from the body, this cannot be explained by supposing, as Mr. Tylor does, that it is reached by the aid of dreams, for if it be true that they see the departed in their dreams, it is just as true that in their dreams they see the living, and themselves among the number, in scenes where they know they never have been. And if it be not explained thus, it can be accounted for only by the knowledge of what their own personality involves. And if, recognising the possibility of separate mental existence, they believe in two distinct forms of experience in a future state-and two distinct places of existence-this is "the natural outcome" of the former knowledge, only if you superadd a further knowledge of moral distinctions, without which the new conception is unexplained. Thus, it seems to me, recent investigations of savage life are tending towards a confirmation of an intuitional philosophy; and what is now required to make this more manifest, is a rigid scrutiny of the vast mass of evidence now at command, such as would make it possible to throw off the accidental, and clearly mark out the constant and uniform testimony of the several stages of life on the highway towards civilization. In a word, what is now most urgently required for ethnology is that some one should do for that science what Kant did for philosophy, attempt a scientific separation of the necessary from the accidental. H. CALDERWOOD.

N these days of travel, nothing is more astonishing than the ignorance which still prevails as to nationalities and national institutions differing from our own. It seems to be possible for even cultivated people to visit strange lands and reside in them for some time, and yet to remain almost entirely ignorant of the genius, temper, and religious and social characteristics of those amidst whom they have been living. This lack of sympathy with the features of another national life, and incapacity of appreciating its habits and modes of thought, have been sometimes said to be peculiarly English. But national narrowness is certainly not confined to England. The French might be supposed, from the advantages of their geographical position, and the natural quickness and liveliness of their sympathies, to be superior to such narrowness, and able to enter into the meaning and force of national facts differing from their own; but in truth they are notoriously deficient in this respect. The impressions of French travellers are probably less to be trusted. than those of any other travellers; while the supreme complacency of their superior ignorance and constant mistakes, not only as to the subtler aspects, but as to the very nomenclature of foreign customs and ways, are more flagrant and ludicrous perhaps than those of any other people. Till the experience of the recent war, it may be safely said that the majority of educated