ics, as might naturally be expected. But the moral element is
conspicuous, the reverence is conspicuous: we have here no mere ghost,
propitiated by food or sacrifice, or by purely magical rites. His very
image (modelled on a large scale in earth) is no vulgar idol: to make such
a thing, except on the rare sacred occasions, is a capital offence.
Meanwhile the mythology of the God has often, in or out of the rites,
nothing rational about it.

On the whole it is evident that Mr. Herbert Spencer, for example,
underrates the nature of Australian religion. He cites a case of
addressing the ghost of a man recently dead, which is asked not to bring
sickness, 'or make loud noises in the night,' and says: 'Here we may
recognise the essential elements of a cult.' But Mr. Spencer does not
allude to the much more essentially religious elements which he might have
found in the very authority whom he cites, Mr. Brough Smyth.[19] This
appears, as far as my scrutiny goes, to be Mr. Spencer's solitary
reference to Australia in the work on 'Ecclesiastical Institutions.' Yet
the facts which he and Mr. Huxley ignore throw a light very different from
theirs on what they consider 'the simplest condition of theology.'

Among the causes of confusion in thought upon religion, Mr. Tylor mentions
'the partial and one-sided application of the historical method of inquiry
into theological doctrines.'[20] Here, perhaps, we have examples. In its
highest aspect that 'simplest theology' of Australia is free from the
faults of popular theology in Greece. The God discourages sin, though, in
myth, he is far from impeccable. He is almost too revered to be named
(except in mythology) and is not to be represented by idols. He is not
moved by sacrifice; he has not the chance; like Death in Greece, 'he only,
of all Gods, loves not gifts.' Thus the status of theology does not
correspond to what we look for in very low culture. It would scarcely be a
paradox to say that the popular Zeus, or Ares, is degenerate from
Mungan-ngaur, or the Fuegian being who forbids the slaying of an enemy,
and almost literally 'marks the sparrow's fall.'

If we knew all the mythology of Darumulun, we should probably find it
(like much of the myth of Pundjel or Bunjil) on a very different level
from the theology. There are two currents, the religious and the mythical,
flowing together through religion. The former current, religious, even
among very low savages, is pure from the magic