however, the best that the nature of the case admitted. On the assumption that they were true, the inferences deduced from them were for the most part reasonable and consistent. But no accuracy in reasoning could cure the original defect. That defect men were slow to discover; and when it was discovered, it was no easy matter to alter the practical arrangements to which it had given rise.
It is no part of my present purpose to narrate the history of primitive beliefs, either generally or even among the men of our own race, or to trace the circumstances which gave rise to the states of mind from which these beliefs proceeded. It is enough for me that, so far as the external world was concerned, men applied the sole standard which they possessed—namely, that which they found within themselves. That man is the measure of all things is a very ancient maxim. Hence the archaic man supposed that every force to which his attention was directed was similar to that which he recognized in himself, and either was or implied a like being. He was conscious, or thought that he was conscious, that he himself consisted of a soul and a body—of something substantial, and of something insubstantial; and he concluded that, in like manner, there were souls in things. The forces of Nature were generally more powerful than he, and were, or seemed to be, capable of doing him good or evil. They therefore, appeared to him fit objects of supplication—beings whose favour he might procure, or whose wrath he might avert. Hence arose the whole system of Nature-worship, and all the myths of the Sun and of the Moon—of the Dawn, the Twilight, and the Night—of the Wind and the Storm—of Earth, and Sea, and Sky. The uncultured man, indeed, worships every force[1] that assists, or that obstructs him in his daily work.
- ↑ See Mr, Lyall, cited in Sir H. S. Maine's "Village Communities," p. 399 (2nd.ed.)
