Important as will be the controversies aroused by Dr. Jevons' view of the relations of religion and magic and by his chapters on taboo and totemism, they will be by no means the only ones. But while we cannot here even allude to many of the questions debated, there is one which must not be wholly passed over. In a chapter on Priesthood ably and carefully reasoned he combats the view of the origin of the priest set forth with unrivalled learning in The Golden Bough. Dr. Jevons argues "that in all cases the human 'image' of the god is distinguished from the god [himself], and that the divine spirit must enter the man before he can be the human representative of the god. . . . Further, the modes of consecration . . . are various, but they can be all traced back to the primitive idea of the sacrificial meal, namely, that it is by participation in the blood of the god that the spirit of the god enters into the worshipper." He therefore looks "to some feature of the ritual of the primitive sacrificial meal" for the solution of the problem; and he finds it in the fact that it is the priest who "deals the first and fatal blow at the victim." But this is to kill the god, and blood-guiltiness attaches to the act. Accordingly the criminal would be immediately slain, but that he drinks of the blood—and drinks first of it, thereby obtaining a greater share of the spirit of the god than his fellows, becoming, in fact, sacro-sanct. All who partake become in a measure united to the god. The union, however, does not last for ever: it requires perpetual renewal. Before the period—usually a year—comes round for the next ordinary sacrificial meal, the union gradually dissolves, and with it the sacro-sanctity of the priest. Being now unprotected by his sacred character, the penalty which he has incurred by lifting his hand against the god may be—must be—enforced, and the priest must be put to death. He is then killed, not as god, but as the slayer of the god. In time his lease of life would be extended, in consequence of the difficulty of getting any one to act as priest on these terms; or a substitute would be slain; or a mock-death would be undergone. Ultimately the animal slain ceased to be regarded as divine. No penalty attached to the slaughter of a chattel, and the priest became permanently emancipated from the liability to render life for life. This hypothesis has much to recommend it beyond its ingenuity. It would assuredly obviate many difficulties. Whether it would account for all the facts—for instance, the excessive and long-continued sanctity of the priest-
