Who knows, for instance, the final truth about what happens to the soul at death?
I am quite ready to admit, indeed, that some of us can see a little farther into a brick wall than, say, Neanderthal man.

Yet when I find facts that appear to prove that Neanderthal man buried his dead with ceremony, and to the best of his means equipped them for a future life, I openly confess that I would rather stretch out a hand across the ages and greet him as my brother and fellow-pilgrim than throw in my lot with the self-righteous folk who seem to imagine this world and the next to have been created for their exclusive benefit.
Now the trouble with anthropologists is to find a working definition of religion on which they can agree.

Christianity is religion, all would have to admit.

Again, Mahomedanism is religion, for all anthropological purposes.

But, when a naked savage "dances" his god--when the spoken part of the rite simply consists, as amongst the south-eastern Australians, in shouting "Daramulun! Daramulun!" (the god's name), so that we cannot be sure whether the dancers are indulging in a prayer or in an incantation--is that religion?
Or, worse still, suppose that no sort of personal god can be discovered at the back of the performance--which consists, let us say, as amongst the central Australians, in solemnly rubbing a bull-roarer on the stomach, so that its mystic virtues may cause the man to become "good" and "glad" and "strong" (for that is his own way of describing the spiritual effects)--is that religion, in any sense that can link it historically with, say, the Christian type of religion?
No, say some, these low-class dealings with the unseen are magic, not religion.