Professor Tiele's objections, not so much to our method as to our
manners, and to my own use of the method in a special case, have been
stated, or will be stated later. Probably I should have put them forward
in 1887; I now repair my error. My sole wish is to be fair; if Mr. Max
Muller has not wholly succeeded in giving the full drift of Professor
Tiele's remarks, I am certain that it is from no lack of candour.



The Story of Cronos


Professor Tiele now devotes fifteen pages to the story of Cronos, and to
my essay on that theme. He admits that I was right in regarding the myth
as 'extraordinarily old,' and that in Greece it must go back to a period
when Greeks had not passed the New Zealand level of civilisation. [Now,
the New Zealanders were cannibals!] But 'we are the victims of a great
illusion if we think that a mere comparison of a Maori and Greek myth
explains the myth.' I only profess to explain the savagery of the myth
by the fact (admitted) that it was composed by savages. The Maori story
'is a myth of the creation of light.' I, for my part, say, 'It is a myth
of the severance of heaven and earth.' {32a} And so it is! No Being
said, in Maori, 'Fiat lux!' Light is not here _created_. Heaven lay
flat on Earth, all was dark, somebody kicked Heaven up, the already
existing light came in. Here is no creation de la lumiere. I ask
Professor Tiele, 'Do you, sir, create light when you open your window-
shutters in the morning? No, you let light in!' The Maori tale is also
'un mythe primitif de l'aurore,' a primitive dawn myth. Dawn, again!
Here I lose Professor Tiele.