Many causes contribute to the enlargement and stability of such conceptions. Tribes of limited local range and a meagre past without traditions may conceive the world around them on a feeble scale. But migration helps to enlarge the outlook. Local powers cannot accompany tribes upon the march. Either they must be left behind and drop out of remembrance, or they must be identified with new scenes and adapted to fresh environments. When the horizon moves ever further forwards with each advance, earth and sky loom vaster {106} before the imagination, and sun and moon, the companion of each day or the protector of each night, gain a more stately predominance. The ancestors of the Hindus, the Greeks, the Romans, the Teutons, carried with them the worship of the sky-god under a common name, derived from the root _div_, to "shine" (Dyaus = Zeus = Jovis = old High German Tiu, as in Tuesday). Other names gathered around the person in the actual firmament, such as the Sanskrit Varuna (still recognised by some scholars as identical with the Greek Ouranos, heaven), loftiest of all the Vedic gods. The Aryan immigrants are already organised under kings, and Varuna sits enthroned in sovereignty. His palace is supported by a thousand pillars, and a thousand doors provide open access for his worshippers. But he is in some sense omnipresent, and one of the ancient poets sang-- "If a man stands or walks or hides, if he goes to lie down or to get up, what two people sitting together whisper, King Varuna knows it, he is there as the third. "This earth, too, belongs to Varuna, the king, and this wide sky with its ends far apart. The two seas (sky and ocean) are Varuna's loins; he is also contained in this small drop of water. "He who should flee far beyond the sky, even he would not be rid of Varuna, the king." {107} The supreme power of the universe is here conceived under a political image. Conceptions of government and social order supply another line of advance, parallel with the forces of nature. On the African Gold Coast, after eighteen years' observation, Cruickshank ranged the objects of worship in three ranks: (1) the stone, the tree, the river, the snake, the alligator, the bundle of rags, which constituted the private fetish of the individual; (2) the greater family deity whose aid was sought by all alike, sometimes in a singular act of communion which involved the swallowing of the god (p. 144); and (3) the deity of the whole town, to whom the entire people had recourse in times of calamity and suffering.