Wherever, as in Japan and West Africa, it is supposed that the
order of nature, and even the existence of the world, is bound up with
the life of the king or priest, it is clear that he must be regarded by his
subjects as a source both of infinite blessing and of infinite danger. On
the one hand, the people have to thank him for the rain and sunshine
which foster the fruits of the earth, for the wind which brings ships to
their coasts, and even for the solid ground beneath their feet. But
what he gives he can refuse; and so close is the dependence of nature
on his person, so delicate the balance of the system of forces whereof he
is the centre, that the least irregularity on his part may set up a tremor
which shall shake the earth to its foundations. And if nature may be
disturbed by the slightest involuntary act of the king, it is easy to
conceive the convulsion which his death might provoke. The natural
death of the Chitomé, as we have seen, was thought to entail the
destruction of all things. Clearly, therefore, out of a regard for their
own safety, which might be imperilled by any rash act of the king, and
still more by his death, the people will exact of their king or priest a
strict conformity to those rules, the observance of which is deemed
necessary for his own preservation, and consequently for the preservation of his people and the world. The idea that early kingdoms are
despotisms in which the people exist only for the sovereign, is wholly
inapplicable to the monarchies we are considering. On the contrary,
the sovereign in them exists only for his subjects; his life is only
valuable so long as he discharges the duties of his position by ordering
the course of nature for his people's benefit. So soon as he fails to do
so, the care, the devotion, the religious homage which they had hitherto
lavished on him cease and are changed into hatred and contempt; he is
dismissed ignominiously, and may be thankful if he escapes with his life.
Worshipped as a god one day, he is killed as a criminal the next. But
in this changed behaviour of the people there is nothing capricious or
inconsistent. On the contrary, their conduct is entirely of a piece. If
their king is their god, he is or should be also their preserver; and if he
will not preserve them, he must make room for another who will. So
long, however, as he answers their expectations, there is no limit to the
care which they take of him, and which they compel him to take of
himself. A king of this sort lives hedged in by a ceremonious etiquette,
a network of prohibitions and observances, of which the intention is not
to contribute to his dignity, much less to his comfort, but to restrain
him from conduct which, by disturbing the harmony of nature, might
involve himself, his people, and the universe in one common catastrophe.
Far from adding to his comfort, these observances, by trammelling his
every act, annihilate his freedom and often render the very life, which
it is their object to preserve, a burden and sorrow to him.
Of the supernaturally endowed kings of Loango it is said that the more powerful a king is, the more taboos is he bound to observe; they regulate all his actions, his walking and his standing, his eating and drinking, his sleeping and waking. To these restraints the heir to the throne is subject from infancy; but as he advances in life the number
