STORYOLOGY:

Essays in Folk-Lore, Sea-Lore, and Plant-Lore

by

BENJAMIN TAYLOR. 

London:Elliot Stock, 62, Paternoster Row, E. C. 1900. 

 To HER MEMORY IN WHOSE DEAR COMPANIONSHIP THESE PAPERS WERE WRITTEN

PREFACE. 

The principal object of this Foreword is to inform the expertFolkloreist and the case-hardened Mythologist (comparative or otherwise)that the following pages are intended for those who, being neitherexpert nor case-hardened, come under that gracious and catholicterm--general reader. The writer addresses not the scholiast, but theordinary person who likes to read about what he has not time to study. 

Some portion of what is here printed has appeared in a once popularmagazine now defunct. The author hastens to add, for the relief of theirreverent, that the journal long survived the ordeal of thepublication. Nevertheless this book appears on its merits, or otherwise, and seeks no support from past attainment. Neither does it make anypretension to originality of matter or method, though it may, perhaps, contain one or two new ideas. 

It is unnecessary to add that the publication is made only at thetearful entreaty of multitudinous friends. That, of course, is wellunderstood among myth-hunters. 

CONTENTS. 

 CHAPTER PAGE

 PREFACE vii

 I. STORYOLOGY 1

 II. THE MAGIC WAND 23

 III. THE MAGIC MIRROR 41

 IV. THE MAGIC MOON 58

 V. THE DEVIL'S CANDLE 78

 VI. THE SEA AND ITS LEGENDS 91

 VII. MOTHER CAREY AND HER CHICKENS 104

 VIII. DAVY JONES'S LOCKER 113

 IX. SOME FLOWERS OF FANCY 121

 X. ROSEMARY FOR REMEMBRANCE 137

 XI. HERB OF GRACE 149

 XII. THE ROMANCE OF A VEGETABLE 163

 XIII. THE STORY OF A TUBER 176

 XIV. THE CENTRE OF THE WORLD 188

 INDEX 201

STORYOLOGY. 

CHAPTER I. 

STORYOLOGY. 

I. 

What is a myth?

According to Webster, it is 'a fabulous or imaginary statement ornarrative conveying an important truth, generally of a moral orreligious nature: an allegory, religious or historical, of spontaneousgrowth and popular origin, generally involving some supernatural orsuperhuman claim or power; a tale of some extraordinary personage orcountry that has been gradually formed by, or has grown out of, theadmiration and veneration of successive generations. ' Here is a choiceof three definitions, but not one of them is by itself satisfying. Letus rather say that a myth is a tradition in narrative form, more or lesscurrent in more or less differing garb among different races, to whichreligious or superhuman significations may be ascribable. We say 'maybe' ascribable because, although the science of comparative mythologyalways seeks for such significations, it is probable that the moderninterpretations are often as different from the original meaning ascertain abstruse 'readings' of Shakespeare are from the poet's ownthoughts. 

In their introduction to Tales of the Teutonic Lands, Cox and Jonesdeclare that the whole series of Arthurian legends are pure myths. Thesetales, they say, can be 'traced back to their earliest forms in phraseswhich spoke not of men and women, but of the Dawn which drives her whiteherds to their pastures'--the white clouds being the guardians of thecattle of the Sun--'of the Sun which slays the dew whom he loves, of thefiery dragon which steals the cattle of the lord of light, or the Moonwhich wanders with her myriad children through the heaven. ' It isclaimed that 'a strict etymological connection has been established'with regard to a large number of these and similar stories, 'but thelink which binds the myth of the Hellenic Hephaistos with that of theVedic Agni justifies the inference that both these myths reappear inthose of Regin and of Wayland, or, in other words, that the story of theDame of the Fine Green Kirtle is the story of Medeia, and that the taleof Helen is the legend of the loves of Conall Gulban. Elsewhere onereads that in the myth of Endymion, the Sun who has sunk to hisdreamless sleep, the Moon appears as Asterodia journeying with her fiftydaughters through the sky. 'In the Christian myth she becomes St. Ursulawith her eleven thousand virgins--this Ursula again appearing in themyth of Tannhäuser, as the occupant of the Horselberg, and as the fairyqueen in the tale of True Thomas of Ercildoune. ' By the same method ofcomparative mythology, the whole series of the Arthurian stories areplaced 'in that large family of heroic legends which have their originin mythical phrases describing the phenomena of the outward world, andmore especially those of the day and of the year. '

This seems hard, for it compels us to believe that our remote ancestorswere very much more intelligent, and imaginative, and poetical, andreligious than anything else which they have sent down to us would havesuggested. It is true that Cox and Jones do not deny that the nameswhich figure in many of these legends, as in those of Greece, may havebeen the names of real personages, but yet the narrative, they say, mustnot be taken as historical. This may be true, but in what sense can weregard it as more probable that the story-makers invented allegories, and clothed them with the names of contemporary or preceding heroes, than that they invented tales of wonder to fit these heroes? Is iteasier to believe, for instance, that Arthur came after the myths, andwas tacked on to them, than that the myths, or stories, came afterArthur, and were tacked on to him? Is there anything in the story of St. Ursula and her virgins which could not have had natural 'spontaneousgrowth' in an age of deep devotional faith in miracles, that we must becompelled to regard it as purely a mediĉvalized version of the Greekmyth of the sun and moon?

I am not writing for experts and scholars, and therefore do not use thescientific terms and allusions familiar to students of these matters. Iam merely writing for ordinary persons, who are often puzzled and painedby the extraordinary meanings which specialists contrive to twist out ofsimple and familiar things. It is not too much to say that theprofessional mythologists are among the most troublesome meddlers whodisturb the repose of '_the average reader_. ' Even Mr. Ruskin suffers inthis connection. In The Queen of the Air he has given us one of his mostdelightful books, but there are probably few, outside the circle ofphilologists and comparative mythologists, who have not thought inreading the lovely interpretations of the myths of Athena, that therewas more of Ruskin than of the Ancient Greek in the meaning evolved. Somehow, it seems easier to think that these things were conceived by aProfessor of Art in the nineteenth century, than that they were thedeliberate convictions of a primitive people ever so many centuriesbefore Christ--a people, too, known to be steeped in sensualities, andaddicted to very barbarous practices. 

Are there, then, reasons for supposing that comparative mythologists arenot always right--that, in fact, their science is but a doubtful scienceafter all? Mr. Andrew Lang boldly says that there are. In Custom andMyth his object is to show the connection between savage customs--orrather the customs of savage and uncivilized races--and ancient myths. But before this branch of Storyology is reached, we must consider thequestion of the relation between our familiar nursery-tales, thefolk-lore of our own and other countries, and the old romances, withthese same myths. There is something more than monotony in the theorywhich 'resolves most of our old romances into a series of remarks aboutthe weather. ' The author of Primitive Culture (Mr. Tylor) rebels againstthis theory. There is no legend, no allegory, no nursery-rhyme, he says, safe from it, and, as an amusing illustration, he supposes the Song ofSixpence to be thus interpreted by the mythologists. Obviously, thefour-and-twenty blackbirds are four-and-twenty hours, and the pie tohold them is the underlying earth covered with the over-arching sky. Howtrue a touch of nature is it, 'when the pie is opened, ' that is, whenday breaks, 'the birds begin to sing!' The King is the Sun, and his'counting out his money' is pouring out the sunshine, the golden showerof Danae; the Queen is the Moon, and her transparent honey themoonlight. The maid is the rosy-fingered Dawn, who rises before the Sun, her master, and hangs out the clothes (the clouds) across the sky; theparticular blackbird who so tragically ends the tale, by 'nipping offher nose, ' is the hour of sunrise. The time-honoured rhyme really wants, as Mr. Tylor remarks, only one thing to prove it a sun-myth, and thatone thing is some other proof than a mere argument from analogy. 

The same proof is wanting for those who would argue that the story ofRed Riding Hood is only another dawn-myth. Mr. Hussin holds this view, but is not the story of the Cat and the Well capable of the same kind ofreading? Pussy is the earth; Tommy, who shoves her into the well, is theevening or twilight; the well is Night; Johnny Stout is the Dawn whopulls the earth out of darkness again. There is no limit to this kind ofapplication of so elastic a theory. But the very ease with which suchexplanations can be attached to any nursery-rhyme or folk-tale shouldwarn us against their probability. As Mr. Tylor says: 'Rash inferenceswhich, on the strength of mere resemblances, derive episodes of mythfrom episodes of nature, must be regarded with utter distrust, for thestudent who has no more stringent criterion than this for his myths ofsun, and sky, and dawn, will find them wherever it pleases him to seekthem. '

The mention of the story of Red Riding Hood suggests a familiarfolk-tale, upon which that of Red Riding Hood may or may not have beenfounded, but which certainly forms the basis of a good many similartales, and has been the subject of a good deal of wise exposition by themythologists. In the story of the Wolf and the Seven Little Kids, astold by Grimm, there is a goat who goes out one day, leaving her sevenlittle ones safely locked in the house, after warning them to beware ofthe wolf, whom she describes. The wolf comes begging for entrance, pretending to be their mother, but they distrust first his voice andthen his black paws. He gets his paws whitened and comes back, showingthem against the window as proof that he is indeed their mother. Therefore they open the door, and he swallows six of them, one after theother, without going through the ceremony of mastication. After this hegoes back to the wood and falls asleep under a tree, where thedisconsolate mother finds him. With the assistance of the seventh andyoungest kid, who had escaped by hiding herself in the clock-case, thewolf is cut open, and the six kids jump out all alive and kicking. Stones are then placed in the wolf's stomach, and it is sewed up. Whenthe wolf wakens he cannot account for the jumbling and tumbling in hisstomach, so he goes to the well to get a drink. But the weight of thestones makes him top-heavy; he falls in and is drowned. 

Now, there is nothing more remarkable in this story than there is inscores of our nursery or household tales, in which not only animals butalso inanimate objects are gifted with speech, and in which the love ofthe marvellous rises superior to natural laws. 

According to Cox, we must understand the myth of the Wolf and Kids thus:'The wolf is here the night, or the darkness, which tries to swallow upthe seven days of the week, and actually swallows six. The seventh--theyoungest--escapes by hiding herself in the clock-case; in other words, the week is not quite run out, and before it comes to an end, the motherof the goats unrips the wolf's stomach and places stones in it in placeof the little goats, who come trooping out, as the days of the weekbegin again to run their course. '

Very plausible this, from a comparative mythologist's point of view, and not easy to dispute--until we find that a similar tale is currentall over the world where clock-cases are even yet unknown. We are toldthat the negroes of Georgia have such a legend; that the natives ofAustralia have one; that the Zulus have it; that the Indians of NorthAmerica and of British Guiana, and the Malays, all have versions of it. In Brittany it is traceable in the legend of Gargantua; in Germany thereare several variations; and in Greece it finds its counterpart in thelegend of Saturn or Cronus. The Kaffirs tell the same story of acannibal, but the way the negroes have it is like this: 'Old Mrs. Sowhad five little pigs, whom she warned against the machinations of BrerWolf. Old Mrs. Sow died, and each little pig built a house for himself. The youngest pig built the strongest house. Brer Wolf, by a series ofstratagems, entrapped and devoured the four elder pigs. The youngest pigwas the wisest, and would not let Brer Wolf come in by the door. He hadto enter by way of the chimney, fell into a great fire the youngest pighad lighted, and was burned to death. ' Here we have no clock-case, andno resurrection of the victims, but otherwise the _motif_ of the storyis the same. Certainly the negroes did not receive this tale from thewhite races, and it seems equally certain that they had no notion oftypifying the dawn or the night, or anything else, but only the popularnotion among nearly all primitive peoples that the youngest is usuallythe most specially gifted and blessed. 

This is Mr. Lang's view: 'In the tale of the Wolf and the Seven Kids, the essence is found in the tricks whereby the wolf deceives hisvictims; in the victory of the goat; in the disgorging of the kidsalive; and the punishment of the wolf (as of Cronus in Hesiod) by thestone which he is obliged to admit into his system. In these eventsthere is nothing allegorical or mystical, no reference to sunrise orstorms. The crude ideas and incidents are of world-wide range, and suitthe fancy of the most backward nation. ' The only thing in Grimm's talewhich differs materially from those of 'world-wide range' is theclock-case--clearly a modern addition, but an item which forms anessential factor in Cox's definition of the 'myth. '

So much by way of illustration; but dozens of tales might be produced, all pointing the same way. This is to the belief that, although storieshave unquestionably been transmitted from race to race throughout theages, and so have become widely distributed over the world, all thecurrent nursery, or household, or folk, stories have not necessarilybeen so transmitted from some one creative race of myth-makers. We havejust seen how an evidently modern interpolation (a clock-case) has cometo be regarded as an essential part of a myth, and it is surely easierto believe that the other features are relics of some ancient customs ofwhich we have no record, than that they bear the ingenious references tonatural phenomena which the mythologists suppose. 

Max Müller holds that all the stories of princesses, imprisoned orenchanted, and delivered by young lovers, 'can be traced back tomythological tradition about the Spring being released from the bondsof Winter. ' But he requires, first, to have the names of the personagesof the story, because he traces the connection more by their etymologythan by the incidents of the narrative--of which more anon. With regardto purely nursery or household tales, the question seems to resolveitself pretty much into this: Are they the remains of an older andhigher mythology, or are they the foundations upon which the priests andmedicine-men and minstrels of later ages built their myths? Are they, inshort, surviving relics, or were they germs? The favourite scientifictheory adopts the former view; I incline to the latter. There are manyof the familiar folk-tales which it is impossible to explain, and thereare many, doubtless, which are in some sort fragments of the oldmythologies filtered to us through Greece. But, on the whole, it is morereasonable to conclude that the simple stories of the marvellous orirrational have their origin in 'the qualities of the uncivilizedimagination. '

Thus, with regard to the current superstitions of our peasantry and ofthe Highlanders, it is much more rational to consider them, as Dr. Robert Chambers did, as 'springing from a disposition of the human mindto account for actual appearances by some imagined history which theappearances suggest, ' than as relics of the old-world mythologies. Theuntutored mind disregards the natural, even in these days of appliedscience. There is an old weir across the Tweed which the common people, forgetting the mill, that had disappeared, pointed out as the work ofone of the imps of Michael Scott, the wizard. Wherever there arethree-topped hills there is sure to be a legend of the work of this sameMichael, or some other wizard. In the same way, deep, clear lakes existin various parts of the country, concerning which traditions survive ofcities lying at the bottom, submerged for their wickedness, or by themachinations of some evil spirit. Old buildings exist in many parts insuch unfavourable situations that popular tradition can only account forthe singularity by the operation of some unfriendly spirit transportingthem from their original locality. Large solitary rocks off the coast, or on hilltops, have been deposited where they are by witches. Waterspringing from a rock by the roadside has always been the result of thestroke of some magician or saint. Large depressions on hillsides aregenerally the footprints of giants, like the mark left by Buddha's footas he ascended to heaven, still to be seen on a hill in Ceylon. Thecircular green marks in the fields are the rings drawn by the fairiesfor their midnight dances, and a scaur or cliff bearing the marks ofvolcanic action or of lightning is invariably associated with some taleof diabolic fury. Almost every reader can add instances of naturalappearances or effects idealized by the workings of the imagination ofuncivilized or uncultivated minds. 

II. 

One of the most common forms of these idealized phenomena is that knownas the 'Fairy-ring, ' about which Nether Lochaber has said, in theHighlands of Scotland, 'We can perfectly understand how in the good oldtimes, ere yet the schoolmaster was abroad, or science had become apopular plaything, people--and doubtless very honest, decent people, too--attributed those inexplicable emerald circles to supernaturalagency; if, indeed, anything connected with the "good folks" or "men ofpeace" could properly be called supernatural in times when a belief infairies and every sort of fairy freak and frolic was deemed the mostcorrect and natural thing in the world. Did not these circles, it wasargued, appear in the course of a single night? In the sequesteredwoodland glade, nor herd nor milkmaid could see anything odd or unusualas the sun went down, and lo! next morning, as they drove their flocksafield, there was the mysterious circle, round as the halo about thewintry moon. .. . And if we know better nowadays than to believe thesegreen circles to be fairy-rings, we also know better than to give theslightest credence to certain authors of our own day who have gravelyasserted that they are caused by electricity. .. . Fairy-rings . .. Are intruth caused by a mushroom (_Agaricus pratensis_), the sporule dust orseed of which, having fallen on a spot suitable for its growth, instantly germinates, and, constantly propagating itself by sending outa network of innumerable filaments and threads, forms the rich greenrings so common everywhere. '

Hardly more excusable than the electricity theorists, thinks thiswriter, are those learned authors who tell us that the West received thefirst hint of the existence of fairies from the East at the time of theCrusades, and that almost all our fairy lore is traceable to the samesource, 'the fact being that Celt and Saxon, Scandinavian and Goth, Lappand Finn, had their "dûergar, " their "elfen" without number, such asdun-elfen, berg-elfen, munt-elfen, feld-elfen, sae-elfen andwaeter-elfen--elves or spirits of downs, hills and mountains, of thefields, of the woods, of the sea, and of the rivers, streams andsolitary pools--fairies, in short, and a complete fairy mythology, longcenturies before Peter the Hermit was born, or Frank and Moslem dreamtof making the Holy Sepulchre a _casus belli_. '

There is something very suggestive in these remarks, and one thoughtsuggested is particularly in the direction of our inquiry, and that is, may not the theory of the Aryan mythological origin of our folk-tales beas imaginary and as groundless as the theory of the Oriental origin offairies? At the same time, let us admit that the superstitious belief incapnomancy--_i. E. _, divination by smoke--still said to be prevalent insome parts of the Highlands, is probably the relic of the old sacrificesby fire to the gods. In so far the superstition has a mythologicalsignificance, but then, are we not driven back to the considerationwhether these gods were not actual personages in the minds of the oldCeltic worshippers, and not symbols of natural phenomena?

So much, however, for popular superstitions; and, as regards folk-tales, we must, in speculating as to their origin, [1] 'look not into theclouds, but upon the earth; not in the various aspects of nature, but inthe daily occurrences and surroundings. ' The process of diffusion mustalways remain uncertain. 'Much may be due to the identity everywhere ofearly fancy, something to transmission, ' but 'household tales occupy amiddle place between the stories of savages and the myths of earlycivilization. '[2] And as nursery-rhymes are but the simplified form ofhousehold or folk-tales, let us consider with Mr. Lang the relationbetween savage customs and ancient myths. 

The foundation of the method of comparative mythology is the belief that'myths are the result of a disease of language, as the pearl is theresult of a disease of the oyster. ' The method of inquiry is to examinethe names which occur in the stories, and having found or invented ameaning for these names, to argue back from them to a meaning in themyths. But then almost each scholar has his peculiar fancy in etymology, and while one finds a Sanskrit root, another finds a Greek, a third aSemitic, and so on. Even when they agree upon the derivation of theproper names, the scholars seldom agree upon the interpretation of them, and thus the whole system is full of perplexity and confusion to all whoapproach its study with unbiassed minds. There is a further divisionamong the mythologists, for there are some who have a partiality forsun-myths, others for cloud-myths, sky-myths and fire-myths, and eachseeks to work out an interpretation of an old-world story to suit hisown taste in myths. How can they be all right? And in whom can we haveconfidence when we find so much disagreement, first, on the derivationof names, and second, on their meaning after the derivation isdiscovered? And then, how do we know that words had the same meaning tothe ancients as they have to us? Was the sky, for instance, to theoriginal story-makers 'an airy, infinite, radiant vault, ' as it is tous, or was it a material roof, or even a person? And, further, how is itthat we find the same myth, with slight alterations, in various parts ofthe world, but with totally different names?

In opposition to the method of reading myths by the philologicalanalysis of names, there is the method of reading them by folk-lore, _i. E. _, by a comparison of the folk-tales and customs of primitivepeoples. The student of folk-lore has to collect and compare the similarrelics of old races, the surviving superstitions and traditions, and theideas which still live. He is thus led to compare the usages, myths, andideas of savages with those which remain among the Europeanpeasantry--classes which have least altered by education, and have shownthe smallest change in progress. It is thus that we find even in our owncountry and in our own day such things as the beliefs in fairies anddivination by smoke, which are as old as time. Similarly, theharvest-custom which is still practised by the children in parts ofrural England and Scotland--the dressing up of the last gleaning inhuman shape, and conducting it home in musical procession--is parallelwith a custom in ancient Peru, and with the Feast of Demeter of theSicilians. But that does not necessarily prove any original connectionbetween Peruvians, Scotch and Sicilians, any more than the fact that thenegroes of Barbadoes make clay figures of their enemies and mutilatethem, as the Greeks and Accadians of old used to do, proves anyconnection between the negroes and the Greeks and Accadians. If we findthe Australians spreading dust round the body of a dead man in order toreceive the impression of the footprints of any ghostly visitor, thesame custom has been observed among the Jews, among the Aztecs, amongthe French, and even among the Scotch. Where we find, therefore, anapparently irrational and anomalous custom in any country, we must lookfor a country where a similar custom prevails, and where it is no longerirrational and anomalous, but in harmony with the manners and ideas ofthe people among whom it prevails. When we read of Greeks dancing aboutin their 'mysteries' with live serpents, it seems unintelligible, butwhen we read of Red Indians doing the same thing with live rattlesnakes, we can understand the meaning because we can see implied a test ofphysical courage. May not a similar motive have originated the Greekpractices?

The method of folk-lore, then, is 'to compare the seemingly meaninglesscustoms or manners of civilized races with the similar customs andmanners which exist among the uncivilized, and still retain theirmeaning. It is not necessary for comparison of this sort that theuncivilized and the civilized race should be of the same stock, nor needwe prove that they were ever in contact. '[3] Similar conditions of mindproduce similar practices, apart from identity of race, or borrowing ofideas and manners. In pursuing this method we have to compare thecustoms and tales of the most widely separated races, whereas thecomparative mythologists, who hold it correct to compare Greek, Slavonic, Celtic and Indian stories because they occur in languages of the samefamily, and Chaldean and Greek stories because the Chaldeans and theGreeks are known to have been in contact, will not compare Greek, Chaldean, Celtic, or Indian stories with those of the Maoris, theEskimos, or the Hottentots, because these last belong to a differentlanguage-family, and are not known to have ever been in contact withAryan races. 

The 'bull-roarer, ' a toy familiar to most children, is one exampleselected by Mr. Lang. It is a long, thin, narrow piece of wood, sharpened at both ends; attached to a piece of string, and whirledrapidly and steadily in the air, it emits a sound which graduallyincreases to an unearthly kind of roar. The ancient Greeks employed atsome of their sacred rites a precisely similar toy, described byhistorians as 'a little piece of wood, to which a string was fastened, and in the mysteries it is whirled round to make a roaring noise. ' Theperformers in the 'mysteries' at which this implement was used daubedthemselves all over with clay. Demosthenes describes the mother ofĈschines as a dabbler in mysteries, and tells how Ĉschines used toassist her by helping to bedaub the initiate with clay and bran. Variousexplanations have been offered of these practices, but let us see howthey tally with any prevailing customs. First, the bull-roarer is to befound in almost every country in the world, and among the most primitivepeoples. It is so simple an instrument that it is within the scope ofthe mechanical genius of the most degraded savages, and therefore it isquite unnecessary to suppose that the idea of it was ever transmittedfrom race to race. And as an instrument employed in religious rites ormysteries, it is found in New Mexico, in Australia, in New Zealand andin Africa, to this day. Its use in Australia is to warn the women tokeep out of the way when the men are about to celebrate their tribalmysteries. It is death for women to witness these rites, and it is alsoforbidden for them to look upon the sacred turndun, or bull-roarer. Inthe same way, among the Greeks, it was forbidden for men to witness therites of the women, and for women to witness those of the men. Among theIndians of Zuni, Mr. Cushing found the same implement used by thepriests to summon the tribe to the sacrificial feasts. In South Africa, Mr. Tylor has proved that the bull-roarer is employed to call the menonly to the celebration of sacred functions, and the instrument itselfis described in Theal's Kaffir Folklore. 

Now, the same peoples who still employ the bull-roarer as a sacredinstrument also bedaub their bodies with clay, for no apparent reasonunless it may be to frighten their enemies or repel intruders. We thusfind still prevailing in our own time among savage races practices whichare perfectly analogous to practices which prevailed among the Greeks. The reasonable inference, therefore, is not that the bull-roaring andbody-daubing were first used in the rites of a civilized race of Greeks, and thence transmitted to Africa, Australia and America, but that theemployment of these things by the Greeks was a survival of the time whenthe Greeks were in the same savage condition as are the peoples amongwhom we find the same things now. 

The Greek story of Saturn is familiar to every schoolboy. Saturn, itwill be remembered, wounds and drives away his father, Uranus, becauseof his unkindness to himself and his brothers. Afterwards Saturn marrieshis sister Rhea, and has several children--Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidonand Zeus--whom he swallowed as they were born, lest they might serve himas he served Uranus. But Rhea didn't like this, and at the time whenZeus was born she ran away to a distant place. Saturn followed, and, asking for the child, was given a stone, which he swallowed withoutlooking at it. Zeus grew up in security, and in due time gave his fathera dose which made him disgorge, first, the stone (which was placed atDelphi, where it became an object of public worship), and then thechildren, one after another, all living and hearty. 

The tale is told in various ways, but these are the main incidents. Itis interpreted by the mythologists to typify, in its first part, thebirth of the world and the elements; and the second part is held by someto typify the operations of time, by others the alternations of nightand day--the stone swallowed by Saturn being the sun, which heafterwards disgorges at daybreak. By others Saturn is held to be the sunand ripener of the harvests; by others, again, the storm-god, whoswallows the clouds, whose sickle is the rainbow, and whose blood is thelightning; by others still Saturn is regarded as the sky, which swallowsand reproduces the stars, and whose sickle is the crescent moon. Thereis a great deal of diversity of opinion, it will be observed, about thismyth of Saturn, or Cronus, but it is curious to note how all the leadingincidents of this myth may be traced in various parts of the world. [4]Among the Maoris, the story of Tûtenganahaû is told, and this is a storyof the severing of heaven and earth, very similar to the Greek story. InIndia and in China, legends tell of the former union of heaven andearth, and of their violent separation by their own children. As regardsthe swallowing performances of Saturn, they find analogues in talesamong the Australians, among the Red Indians, among the natives ofBritish Guiana, and among the Kaffirs. 

The conclusion, then, is that the first part of the Saturn myth isevidently the survival of an old nature-myth which is common to raceswho never had any communication with the Greeks. The second part isunintelligible, except as just such a legend as might be evolved bypersons in the same savage intellectual condition as, say, the Bushmen, who account for celestial phenomena by saying that a big star hasswallowed his daughter and spat her out again. 

Any myth which accounts for the processes of nature or the aspects ofnatural phenomena may, says Mr. Lang, conceivably have been inventedseparately, therefore it is not surprising to find the star-stories ofsavages closely resembling those of civilized races. The story of thelost sister of the Pleiades, according to the Greek myth, finds aparallel in a tradition among the Australians. Of star-lore generally, it may be said that it is much the same even among the Bushmen ofAfrica, as it was among the Greeks and Egyptians, and as it is among theAustralians and Eskimos. 

Another interesting inquiry is to trace the legend current among theGreeks, and known to us as that of Jason and the Golden Fleece, in theStoryology of the Africans, the Norse, the Malagasies, the Russians, theItalians, the Samoans, the Finns, the Samoyedes and the Eskimo. Some ofthe resemblances are so exceedingly close and curious as to severelyshake our belief in the dawn-sun-spring-lightning interpretations of themythologists. They drive us to the conclusion that the Jason myth is nota story capable of explanation as a nature-myth, or as a result of 'adisease of language'; for as is pertinently remarked, 'So many languagescould not take the same malady in the same way; nor can we imagine anystories of natural phenomena that would inevitably suggest this tale toso many diverse races. ' The rational theory is that the Jason story, like its analogues among strange races, had its origin in a time ofsavage conditions, when animals were believed to talk, when humansacrifices and cannibalism were practised, and when efforts to escapebeing eaten were natural. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE MAGIC WAND. 

It is sufficiently remarkable that the rod, besides being an emblem ofauthority, is also an instrument of the supernatural. An indispensableinstrument, one may say; for was ever a magician depicted in book, inpicture, or in the mind's eye, without a wand? Does even the mostamateurish of prestidigitateurs attempt to emulate the performances ofthe once famous Wizard of the North, without the aid of the magic staff?The magician, necromancer, soothsayer, or conjurer, is as uselesswithout his wand as a Newcastle pitman is without his 'daug. '

At first thought it might be assumed that the association of the rod orwand with necromancy is merely an indication of power or authority, inthe same way as the sceptre is associated with kingship. But there issomething more in it. Magic has been well called 'the shadow ofreligion, ' and the early religious idea found expression in symbols. These symbols, as we know, have in many cases retained a certainsignificance long after the ideas they were meant to convey have beenlost, or abandoned, or modified. If we bear these things in mind, it isnot difficult to discover a religious origin for the symbolic wand ofnecromancy. 

Mr. Moncure Conway, in his book on Demonology and Devil-lore, mentions athing which seems peculiarly apposite to our subject. In the old town ofHanover there is a certain schoolhouse, in which, above the teacher'schair, there was originally a representation of a dove perched upon arod--the rod in this case being meant to typify a branch. Below the doveand rod there was this inscription: 'This shall lead you unto allTruth. ' But the dove has long since disappeared, and there remains nowbut the rod and the inscription. It is natural that the children of theschool should apply the admonition to the rod, ignorant that the rod wasbut the supporter of a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Thus has the piousdesign of inculcating a Divine lesson left only an emblem of mysteriousterror. In some way, too, has the magic wand lost its religioussignificance and become but a dread implement of the occult. 

Yet we might trace the origin of the magician's wand to the very sameroot as that of the iron rod of the Hanover schoolhouse. We may find itin the olive-branch brought by the dove into the ark--a message ofDivine love and mercy--and therefore a connecting-link between humanneeds and desires and superhuman power. To construe a mere symbol into arealized embodiment of the virtue symbolized were surely as easy in thiscase as in that of the Eucharist. 

But if this suggestion of the origin of the magician's wand be thoughttoo hypothetical, there will be less objection to our finding it inAaron's rod. Moses was commanded to take a rod from the chiefs of eachof the twelve tribes, and to write upon each rod the name. The rods werethen to be placed in the Tabernacle, and the owner of the one whichblossomed was designated as the chosen one. The rod of the house of Levibore the name of Aaron, and this was the only one of the twelve whichblossomed. Here once more was the rod used to connect human needs withDivine will; but now a special virtue is made to appear in the roditself. This virtue appeared again, when Pharaoh called all thesorcerers and magicians of Egypt to test their enchantments withAaron's. All these magicians bore wands, or rods, and when they threwthem on the ground the rods turned into serpents. Aaron's rod alsoturned into a serpent, and swallowed all the others. Now, here we findtwo things established. First, that even in these early days necromancywas a profession, and the rod a necessary implement of the craft; and, second, that the rod was esteemed not merely an emblem of authority, ora mere ornament of office, but as a thing of superhuman power in itselfalthough the power could only be evoked by the specially gifted. 

We find the beginning of the idea in the story of Moses' rod whichturned into a serpent when he cast it on the ground at the Divinecommand. This was what led up to the trial of skill with the Egyptianmagicians, and seems to have been the first suggestion in early historyof the miraculous virtues of the rod. Then we must remember that it wasby the stretching forth of the rod of the prophet that all the waters ofEgypt were made to turn into blood, and that the plagues of frogs andlice were wrought, and that the hail was called down from heaven whichdestroyed the crops and flocks of the Egyptians. In fact, all themiracles performed in the land of Egypt were made to appear more or lessas the result of the application of the magic rod, just as to this daythe clever conjurer appears to produce his wonderful effects with hiswand. 

It was by the stretching forth of the rod of Moses that the Red Seadivided, and that the water sprang from the rock. The staff of Elishaand the spear of Joshua may also be cited in this connection, and otherexamples in Holy Writ may occur to the reader. They are mentioned herein no spirit of irreverence, but merely as evidence that the magicvirtue of the rod was a fixed belief in the minds of the early writers. 

Belief in the vitalizing power of the rod may be found embalmed in manya curious mediĉval legend. The budding rod, borrowed from the traditionof Aaron's, is, for instance, very frequent. Thus in the story of St. Christophoros, as preserved in Von Bülow's Christian Legends of Germany, we read of the godly man carrying the Child-Christ on his back through araging torrent, and afterwards lying down on the banks of the stream, exhausted, to sleep. The staff which he stuck in the ground ere he laydown, budded and blossomed before he awoke, and in the morning he founda great umbrageous tree bearing fruit, and giving shelter to hundreds ofgorgeous birds. There are many such legends in the traditions of all theChristian nations, and the collection and comparison of them would be aninteresting and instructive task, but one too large for our presentpurpose. 

It is related by Holinshed, in connection with many wonderful visionswhich were seen in Scotland about A. D. 697, that once when the Bishopwas conducting the service in the church of Camelon, with thecrozier-staff in his hand, 'it was kindled so with fire that by no meansit could be quenched till it was burnt even to ashes. ' This was supposedto have been the handiwork of the devil, who has on other occasions usedthe staff or wand to emphasize his intentions or mark his spite. Thus, of the famous Dr. Fian it is narrated in the 'Newes from Scotland, declaring the damnable Life of Doctor Fian, a notable Sorcerer, who wasburned at Edenborough in Januarie last 1591; which Doctor was Registerto the Devill, that sundrie times Preached at North-Baricke Kirke to anumber of notorious Witches, ' etc. --that he made the following, amonghis other confessions: 'That the devill had appeared unto him in thenight before, appareled all in blacke, with a white wand in his hande, and that the devill demanded of him if he would continue his faithfullservice according to his first oath and promise made to that effect, whome (as hee then said) he utterly renounced to his face, and said untohim in this manner: "Avoide, avoide, Satan, for I have listened toomuch unto thee, and by the same thou hast undone me, in respect whereofI utterly forsake thee. " To whom the devill answered, "That once, erethou die, thou shalt be mine, " and with that (as he sayed) the devillbrake the white wand, and immediately vanished from sight. ' After which, the chronicle goes on to tell how the redoubtable doctor actuallyescaped from prison, and began to resume his Satanic practices. 

This brings us to the most frequent use of the rod in superstitions--forthe purposes of divination. There is a suggestion of the practice byNebuchadnezzar, when he 'stood at the parting of the way, at the head oftwo ways, to use divinations, he made his arrows bright, ' etc. He thenthrew up a bundle of arrows to see which way they would alight, andbecause they fell on the right hand he marched towards Jerusalem. Divination by the wand is also suggested in the shooting of an arrowfrom a window by Elisha, and by the strokes upon the ground with anarrow by which Joash foretold the number of his victories. 

Sir Thomas Browne speaks of a common 'practice among us to determinedoubtful matters by the opening of a book and letting fall of a staff. 'The 'staff' business is not quite so familiar in present days, but theopening of a book for prophetic guidance is, perhaps, more common thanmost people suppose. 

Sir Thomas Browne also speaks of a 'strange kind of exploration andpeculiar way of Rhabdomancy' used in mineral discoveries. That is, 'with a fork of hazel, commonly called Moses his rod, which, freely heldforth, will stir and play if any mine be under it. And though many thereare, ' says the learned doctor, 'who have attempted to make it good, yetuntil better information, we are of opinion, with Agricola, that initself it is a fruitless exploration, strongly scenting of paganderivation and the _virgula divina_ proverbially magnified of old. Theground whereof were the magical rods in poets--that of Pallas, in Homer;that of Mercury, that charmed Argus; and that of Circe, whichtransformed the followers of Ulysses. Too boldly usurping the name ofMoses' rod, from which notwithstanding, and that of Aaron, were probablyoccasioned the fables of all the rest. For that of Moses must needs befamous unto the Egyptians, and that of Aaron unto many other nations, asbeing preserved in the Ark until the destruction of the Temple built bySolomon. '

One may look in vain, perhaps, for modern instances of the divining-rodunder the name of 'Moses his rod, ' as old Sir Thomas found it. 

It is curious, however, that Sir Thomas Browne, who was so fond ofdelving among ancient writers, makes no reference to a striking passagein Herodotus. That historian, speaking of the Scythians, says, 'Theyhave amongst them a great number who practise the art of divination. Forthis purpose they use a number of willow-twigs in this manner: theybring large bundles of these together, and having untied them, disposethem one by one on the ground, each bundle at a distance from the rest. This done, they pretend to foretell the future, during which they takeup the bundles separately and tie them again together. '

From this it may be seen that while the divining-rod was a familiarinstrument 450 years before Christ, it was also then disbelieved in bysome. Curious to think that what the old historian of Halicarnassus waswise enough to ridicule four centuries and a half before the birth ofChrist, there are yet people, nineteen centuries after His advent, simple enough to accept!

Herodotus goes on to tell that this mode of divination was hereditaryamong the Scythians, so how many centuries earlier it may have beenpractised one can hardly guess. He says that the 'enaries, or effeminatemen, affirm that the art of divination was taught them by the goddessVenus, ' a statement which will carry some significance to those who arefamiliar with the theories so boldly advocated by the author of BibleFolklore. 

Now, the attempt to divine by means of rods, arrows, staffs or twigs isevidently a good deal older than Herodotus, and it is to be found amongalmost every race of people on the face of the earth. Let us say'almost, ' because Mr. Andrew Lang instances this as one form ofsuperstition which is not prevalent among savage races; or rather, touse his exact words, 'is singular in its comparative lack of copioussavage analogues. ' The qualification seems to be necessary, becausethere are certainly some, if not 'copious, ' instances among savagepeoples of the use of the divining-rod in one form or other. And Mr. Lang is hardly accurate in speaking of the 'resurrection' of thissuperstition in our own country. It has, in fact, never died, and thereis scarcely a part of the country where a 'diviner' has not triedhis--or her, for it is often a woman--skill with the 'twig' from time totime. These attempts have seldom been known beyond the immediatelocality and the limited circle of those interested in them, and it isonly of late years, since folklore became more of a scientific andgeneral study, that the incidents have been seized upon and recorded bythe curious. From the time of Moses until now the 'rod' has been almostcontinuously used by innumerable peoples in the effort to obtainsupplies of water. 

In ancient times it was used, as we have seen, for a variety of otherpurposes; but its surviving use in our generation is to indicate thelocality of hidden springs or of mineral deposits. There are cases onrecord, however, so recently as the last century, when the rod was usedin the detection of criminals, and a modified application of it to avariety of indefinite purposes may even be traced to the planchette, which, at this very day, is seriously believed in by many persons whoare ranked as 'intelligent. '

Now, of the use of the divining-rod in England, Mr. Thiselton-Dyer thuswrote some years ago: 'The _virgula divinatoria_, or divining-rod, is aforked branch in the form of a Y, cut off a hazel-stick, by means ofwhich people have pretended to discover mines, springs, etc. , underground. It is much employed in our mining districts for thediscovery of hidden treasure. In Cornwall, for instance, the minersplace much confidence in its indications, and even educated, intelligentmen oftentimes rely on its supposed virtues. Pryce, in his MineralogiaCornubiensis, tells us that many mines have been discovered by the rod, and quotes several; but after a long account of the method of cutting, tying and using it, rejects it, because 'Cornwall is so plentifullystored with tin and copper lodes, that some accident every weekdiscovers to us a fresh vein, ' and because 'a grain of metal attractsthe rod as strongly as a pound, for which reason it has been found todip equally to a poor as to a rich lode. '

But in Lancashire and Cumberland also, Mr. Dyer goes on to say, 'thepower of the divining-rod is much believed in, and also in other partsof England. ' The method of using it is thus described. The small ends, being crooked, are to be held in the hands in a position flat orparallel to the horizon, and the upper part at an elevation having anangle to it of about seventy degrees. The rod must be grasped stronglyand steadily, and then the operator walks over the ground. When hecrosses a lode, its bending is supposed to indicate the presencethereof. Mr. Dyer's explanation of the result is simple: 'The positionof the hands in holding the rod is a constrained one--it is not easy todescribe it; but the result is that the hands, from weariness speedilyinduced in the muscles, grasp the end of the twig yet more rigidly, andthus is produced the mysterious bending. The phenomena of thedivining-rod and table-turning are of precisely the same character, andboth are referable to an involuntary muscular action resulting fromfixedness of idea. These experiments with a divining-rod are always madein a district known to be metalliferous, and the chances are, therefore, greatly in favour of its bending over or near a mineral lode. '

The theory of 'involuntary muscular action' is a favourite explanation, and the subject is one well worthy of the investigation of all studentsof psychology. But how does this theory square with the story ofLinnĉus, told by a writer in _The Gentleman's Magazine_ in 1752? 'WhenLinnĉus was upon his voyage to Scania, hearing his secretary highlyextol the virtues of his divining-rod, he was willing to convince him ofits insufficiency, and for that purpose concealed a purse of 100 ducatsunder a ranunculus which grew up by itself in a meadow, and bid thesecretary find it if he could. The wand discovered nothing, andLinnĉus's mark was soon trampled down by the company who were present, so that when Linnĉus went to finish the experiment by fetching the goldhimself, he was utterly at a loss where to find it. The man with thewand assisted him, and told him that it could not lie in the way theywere going, but quite the contrary; so pursued the direction of thewand, and actually dug out the gold. Linnĉus adds, that such anotherexperiment would be sufficient to make a proselyte of him. '

The explanation of this case by the incredulous would, of course, bethat the owner of the wand had made a private mark of his own, and thusknew better than Linnĉus where the gold lay. 

The divining-rod, however, is not used only in districts which are knownto abound in metalliferous deposits, when minerals are being searchedfor, but has frequently been used by prospectors in new countries. Thuswe recall that Captains Burton and Cameron in their book about the GoldCoast, tell how the rod was used by the early British explorers on theGambia River. One Richard Jobson, in 1620, landed and searched variousparts of the country, armed with mercury, nitric acid, some largecrucibles, and a divining-rod. He washed the sand and examined the rocksbeyond the Falls of Barraconda, with small success for a long time. Atlast, however, he found what he declared to be 'the mouth of the mineitself, and found gold in such abundance as surprised him with joy andadmiration. ' But what part the divining-rod played in the discovery isnot related, and, for the rest, 'the mine' has disappeared asmysteriously as it was discovered. No one else has seen it, and all thegold that now comes from the Gambia River is a small quantity of dustwashed down from the mountain-ridges of the interior. It is curious, however, to find civilized Europeans carrying the divining-rod to one ofthe districts where, according to Mr. Andrew Lang, it has no analogueamong the primitive savages. 

I have mentioned, on the authority of Mr. Thiselton-Dyer, some of thedistricts of England in which the divining-rod is still more or lessused. But something of its more extended use may be learned from Mr. Hilderic Friend's Flowers and Flower-Lore. That writer informs us of acurious custom of the hop-pickers of Kent and Sussex for ascertainingwhere they shall stand to pick. One of them cuts as many slips of hazelas there are bins in the garden, and on these he cuts notches from oneupwards. Each picker then draws a twig, and his standing is decided bythe number upon it. This is certainly an interesting instance of thedivination by twigs reduced to practical ends. The same writer regardsthe familiar 'old-wife' fortune-telling by tea-leaves as merely anothervariation of this old superstition. It does seem to have some analogy toseveral of the practices to which we have briefly referred, and onefinds another analogy in the Chinese custom of divining by straws. 

The divining-rod of England is described by Mr. Friend much in the sameway as by Mr. Dyer. But, according to Mr. Friend, hazel was not always, although it has for a long time been, the favourite wood for thepurpose. Elder, at any rate, is strictly forbidden, as deemed incapableof exhibiting magical powers. In Wiltshire and elsewhere Mr. Friendknows of the magic rod having been used recently for detecting water. Itmust be cut at some particular time when the stars are favourable, and'in cutting it, one must face the east, so that the rod shall be onewhich catches the first rays of the morning sun, or, as some say, theeastern and western sun must shine through the fork of the rod, otherwise it will be good for nothing. '

The same superstition prevails in China with regard to rods cut from themagic peach-tree. In Prussia, it is said, hazel-rods are cut in spring, and when harvest comes they are placed in crosses over the grain to keepit good for years, while in Bohemia the rod is used to cure fevers. Atwig of apple-tree is, in some parts, considered as good as a hazel-rod, but it must be cut by the seventh son of a seventh son. Brand recordsthat he has known ash-twigs used, and superstitiously regarded, in someparts of England; but the hazel is more generally supposed to be popularwith the fairies, or whoever may be the mysterious spirits who guide thediviner's art. Hence perhaps the name, common in some parts, ofwitch-hazel, although, of course, philologists will have it that thetrue derivation is wych. In Germany the witch-hazel is the_zauber-streuch_, or the magic-tree, and it is probable that both witchand wych are from the Anglo-Saxon _wic-en_, to bend. It is curious, atany rate, that while in olden times a witch was called _wicce_, themountain-ash, which, as we have seen, has supposed occult virtues, wasformerly called _wice_. Whether this root has any connection withanother name by which the magic wand is known--viz. , thewishing-rod--may be doubted, but there is clearly a close connectionbetween the hazel-twig of superstitious England and the_Niebelungen-rod_ of Germany, which gave to its possessor power over allthe world. 

Of the employment of the divining-rod for the detection of criminalsthere are many cases on record, but the most famous in comparativelyrecent times is that of Jacques Aymar of Lyons. The full details of thedoings of this remarkable person are given by Mr. Baring-Gould in hisCurious Myths of the Middle Ages; but the story is told more conciselyby another writer: 'On July 5, 1692, a vintner and his wife were founddead in the cellar of their shop at Lyons. They had been killed by blowsfrom a hedging-knife, and their money had been stolen. The culpritscould not be discovered, and a neighbour took upon him to bring to Lyonsa peasant out of Dauphiné, named Jacques Aymar, a man noted for hisskill with the divining-rod. The Lieutenant-Criminel and the Procureurdu Roi took Aymar into the cellar, furnishing him with a rod of thefirst wood that came to hand. According to the Procureur du Roi the roddid not move till Aymar reached the very spot where the crime had beencommitted. His pulse then beat, and the wand twisted rapidly. Guided bythe wand, or by some internal sensation, Aymar now pursued the track ofthe assassins, entered the court of the Archbishop's palace, left thetown by the bridge over the Rhone, and followed the right bank of theriver. He reached a gardener's house, which he declared the men hadentered, and some children confessed that three men, whom theydescribed, had come into the house one Sunday morning. Aymar followedthe track up the river, pointed out all the places where the men hadlanded, and, to make a long story short, stopped at last at the door ofthe prison of Beaucaire. He was admitted, looked at the prisoners, andpicked out as the murderer a little hunchback, who had just beenbrought in for a small theft. The hunchback was taken to Lyons, and hewas recognised on the way by the people at all the stages where he hadstopped. At Lyons he was examined in the usual manner, and confessedthat he had been an accomplice in the crime, and had guarded the door. Aymar pursued the other culprits to the coast, followed them by sea, landed where they had landed, and only desisted from his search whenthey crossed the frontier. As for the hunchback, he was broken on thewheel, being condemned on his own confession. '

This is briefly the story of Jacques Aymar, which is authenticated byvarious eye-witnesses, and of which many explanations have been tenderedfrom time to time. Mr. Baring-Gould commits himself to no definiteexpression of opinion, but says: 'I believe that the imagination is theprincipal motive force in those who use the divining-rod; but whether itis so solely I am unable to decide. The powers of Nature are somysterious and inscrutable that we must be cautious in limiting them, under abnormal conditions, to the ordinary laws of experience. ' As, however, Jacques Aymar failed ignominiously under all the subsequenttrials to which he was subjected, the most reasonable explanation of hissuccess, with regard to the Lyons murder, is that he was by nature aclever detective, and that he was favoured by circumstances after he hadonce caught a clue. 

To return to the employment of the divining-rod in England, we findnumerous instances of its application in searching for water, and theseinstances happen to be among the best authenticated of any on record. Some years ago a writer in the _Times_ boldly declared that he hadhimself seen the rod successfully used in seeking for water. He had eventried it himself, with the determination that the rod should not beallowed to twist, 'even if an ocean rolled under his feet. ' But heconfessed that it did twist in spite of him, and that at the place wasfound a concealed spring. 

Then it is recorded of Lady Milbanke, mother of Lord Byron's wife, thatshe had found a well by the violent twisting of the twig held in theorthodox way in her hand--turning so violently, indeed, as almost tobreak her fingers. Dr. Hutton was a witness of the affair, and hasrecorded his experience, which is quoted in a curious book calledJacob's Rod, published in London many years ago. This case, and others, were cited by a writer in the twenty-second volume of the _QuarterlyReview_. De Quincey also asserted that he had frequently seen thedivining-rod successfully used in the quest of water, and declared that, 'whatever science or scepticism may say, most of the tea-kettles in theVale of Wrington, North Somersetshire, are filled by Rabdomancy. ' Mr. Baring-Gould also quotes the case of a friend of his own who waspersonally acquainted with a Scotch lady who could detect hidden springswith a twig, which was inactive in the hands of others who tried it onthe same spots. 

Other instances might be cited, but enough has been said to show thatthe magic rod, from the earliest periods, has been an instrument ofsupernatural attributes, and that even to this day in our own country itis still believed by some to have the special faculty of indicating thepresence of minerals and water. With regard to minerals, there are noinstances so well authenticated as those concerning the discovery ofwater. With regard to these last a considerable amount of haziness stillexists, and, without venturing to pronounce them all fictions orproductions of the imagination, it may be possible to find anexplanation in a theory of hydroscopy. It is held that there are somefew persons who are hydroscopes by nature--that is to say, are endowedwith peculiar sensations which tell them the moment they are near water, whether it be evident or hidden, a concealed watercourse or asubterranean spring. If the existence of such a faculty, howeverexceptional, be clearly established, it will afford an explanation ofcertain successes with the divining-rod. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE MAGIC MIRROR. 

There is an old superstition, current, probably, in most parts of thecountry, that the breaking of a mirror will be followed by badluck--usually a death in the family. This is, doubtless, the survival ofa still older superstition--the belief in certain magic qualities of themirror, which enabled it in certain circumstances to reflect the distantand to forecast the future. Nor was this superstition so childish aswere some other popular delusions of old, for it had a certainphilosophic basis. It is the peculiar property of the mirror torepresent truth; to reproduce faithfully that which is; to show usourselves as others see us. This is the idea expressed by Hamlet: 'Tohold the mirror up to Nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn herown image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. '

The mirror has been, from time immemorial, a favourite form of charm forthe exorcism of devils, and, indeed, to this day some of the Africantribes believe that the best defence they have against their extremelyugly devil is a mirror. If they keep one at hand, the devil must seehimself in it before he can touch them, and be so terrified at his ownugliness that he will turn tail and flee. 

We may take this symbolically--that a man shrinks from his worst selfwhen it is revealed to him; but the untutored mind is prone to mistakesymbol for fact. In this way, while the ancient philosophers may haveused the mirror as a symbol of the higher nature of man, so polished andclarified that it showed him his lower nature in all its deformity, thecrowd came to regard the crystal as an actual instrument of divination. 

Some of the oldest romances in the world have to do with the magicaloperation of the mirror. In the Gesta Romanorum there is a story of aknight who went to Palestine, and who while there was shown by anEastern magician in a mirror what was going on at home. In the ArabianNights the story of Prince Ahmed has a variant, an ivory tube throughwhich could be discovered the far-distant--a sort of anticipation of SamWeller's 'double million magnifying gas microscope of hextra power. '

In the story of Prince Zeyn Alasnam, the enchanted mirror was able toreflect character, and was called the Touchstone of Virtue. Here againwe have Hamlet's idea of holding the mirror up to Nature. The youngKing, Zeyn Alasnam, had eight beautiful statues of priceless value, andhe wanted a ninth to make up his set. The difficulty was to find onebeautiful enough; but the Prince of Spirits promised to supply one assoon as Zeyn should bring him a maiden at least fifteen years old, andof perfect beauty; only the maiden must not be vain of her charms, andshe must never have told an untruth. Zeyn employed his magic mirror, andfor a long time without success, as it always became blurred when helooked into it in the presence of a girl. At last he found one whoseimage was faithfully and brilliantly reflected--whose modesty andtruthfulness were attested by the mirror. He took her with reluctance tothe Prince of Spirits, because he had fallen in love with her himself;but his faithfulness to the contract was duly rewarded. On returninghome, he found that the ninth statue, placed on its pedestal by thePrince of Spirits according to promise, was no cold marble, but thepeerless and virtuous maiden whom he had discovered by means of hismirror. 

Paracelsus, in one of his treatises on Magic, gives the followingaccount of the uses to which 'the witches and evil spirits' sometimesput the mirror. 

'They take a mirror set in a wooden frame and put it into a tub ofwater, so that it will swim on the top with its face directed towardsthe sky. On the top of the mirror, and encircling the glass, they lay acloth saturated with blood, and thus they expose it to the influence ofthe moon; and this evil influence is thrown towards the moon, andradiating again from the moon, it may bring evil to those who love tolook at the moon. The rays of the moon, passing through the ring uponthe mirror, become poisoned, and poison the mirror; the mirror throwsback the poisoned ether into the atmosphere, and the moon and the mirrorpoison each other, in the same manner as two malicious persons, bylooking at each other, poison each other's souls with their eyes. If amirror is strongly poisoned in this manner, the witch takes good care ofit; and if she desires to injure someone, she takes a waxen image madein his name, she surrounds it with a cloth spotted with blood, andthrows the reflex of the mirror through the opening in the middle uponthe head of the figure, or upon some other part of its body, using atthe same time her evil imagination and curses; and the man whom theimage represents may then have his vitality dried up, and his bloodpoisoned by that evil influence, and he may become diseased and his bodycovered with boils. '

This, of course, is not divination, but sorcery. 

Paracelsus gives very minute directions for the making of a magicmirror. The material should be the 'electrum magicum, ' which is acompound of ten parts of pure gold, ten of silver, five of copper, twoof tin, two of lead, one part of powdered iron, and five parts ofmercury. When the planets Saturn and Mercury conjoin, the lead has to bemelted and the mercury added. Then the metal must cool, while you waitfor a conjunction of Jupiter with Saturn and Mercury; when that occurs, you melt the amalgam of lead and mercury, and add the tin, previouslymelted in a separate crucible, at the exact moment of conjunction. Againyou wait for a conjunction of either of the above-named planets withthe Sun, when you add the gold; with the Moon, when you add the silver;with Venus, when you add the copper. Finally, when a conjunction ofeither of the planets occurs with Mars, you must complete your mixturewith the powdered iron, and stir up the whole molten mass with a dry rodof witch-hazel. 

Thus far your metal; but the mirror is not made yet. It must be of abouttwo inches diameter, and must be founded in moulds of fine sand at themoment when a conjunction of Jupiter and Venus occurs. The mirror mustbe smoothed with a grindstone and polished with tripoly and a piece oflime-wood; but all the operations must be conducted only when theplanetary influences are favourable. 

By selecting the proper hours, three different mirrors may be prepared, and then, at a time of conjunction of two 'good' planets, while the Sunor Moon 'stands on the house of the lord of the hour of your birth, ' thethree mirrors should be placed in pure well-water and left for an hour. After this they may be wrapped in clean linen and kept ready for use. 

With a mirror made in this way from the 'electrum magicum, ' Paracelsussays:

'You may see the events of the past and the present, absent friends orenemies, and see what they are doing. You may see in it any object youmay desire to see, and all the doings of men in daytime or at night. Youmay see in it anything that has been ever written down, said, or spokenin the past, and also see the person who said it, and the causes thatmade him say what he did, and you may see in it anything, however secretit may have been kept. '

Mirrors made of the 'electrum magicum' are warranted antipathetic to allevil influences, because there is hidden in the metal a 'heavenly powerand influence of the seven planets. '

The plastic and creative power of the mind is the power of imagination;but the power of imagination is, or should be, controlled by the will. It is not alone the mediĉval dabblers in the occult who have adopted, orendeavoured to adopt, various means for suspending the will and makingthe imagination passive. 

The ancient Pythoness, as Dr. Franz Hartmann, the modern German exponentof the Science of Magic, pointed out, attempted to heighten herreceptivity by the inhalation of noxious vapours; uncivilized peoplesuse poison, or the maddening whirl of the dance; others use opium, Indianhemp, or other narcotics--all for the same purpose, to suspend the will, render the mind a blank, and excite the brain so as to produce morbidfancies and illusions. The fortune-teller and the clairvoyant employmethods of their own for concentrating their attention, so as produce acondition of mental passivity. The Indian adept prides himself on beingable to extract volition and suspend imagination by the mere exercise ofwill. 

A favourite device to bring about mental passivity has always been bystaring at mirrors, or crystal, or sheets of water, or even pools of ink. 

'There are numerous prescriptions for the preparation of magic mirrors, 'says Dr. Hartmann in his work on Magic, 'but the best magic mirror willbe useless to him who is not able to see clairvoyantly, while thenatural clairvoyant may call that faculty into action by concentratinghis mind on any particular spot, a glass of water, ink, a crystal, oranything else. For it is not in the mirror where such things are seen, but in the mind; the mirror merely serves to assist in the entering ofthat mental state which is necessary to produce clairvoyant sight. Thebest of all mirrors is the soul of man, and it should be always keptpure, and be protected against dust, and dampness, and rust, so that itmay not become tarnished, but remain perfectly clear, and able toreflect the light of the divine spirit in its original purity. '

A German writer of the fifteenth century takes a less favourable view ofwhat he calls pyromancy, although pyromancy is really divination byfire. He reports the practices of certain Masters of Magic, who madechildren look into a wretched mirror for the purpose of obtaininginformation in an unholy manner. 'Young boys are said to behold futurethings and all things, in a crystal. Base, desperate, and faint-heartedChristians practise it, to whom the shadow and the phantom of the devilare dearer than the truth of God. Some take a clear and beautifullypolished crystal, or beryl, which they consecrate and keep clean, andtreat with incense, myrrh, and the like. And when they propose topractise their art, they wait for a clear day, or select some cleanchamber in which are many candles burning. The Masters then bathe, andtake the pure child into the room with them, and clothe themselves inpure white garments, and sit down and speak in magic sentences, and thenburn their magic offering, and make the boy look into the stone, andwhisper in his ears secret words which have, as they think, some holyimport, but which are verily words of the devil. '

A sixteenth-century German tells of a man at Elbingen, in Prussia, who'predicted hidden truths' by means of a mirror, and sold the knowledgeto his customers. Many crystal-seeing old hags are referred to as beingupon terms of intimacy with Black Kaspar. Indeed, in German literature, both historical, philosophical, legendary, and romantic, we find endlessreferences to the magic mirror and the divining crystal. 

Modern romancists still find dramatic use for the old superstitions. Quite recently a novel of the present day centred its interest upon anancient mirror, which exchanged its reflection for the mind of him whogazed into it--a practical and startling realization of the idea thatthe glass reveals one's true self. Then, not to multiply incidents, Wilkie Collins, in The Moonstone, introduces what Mr. Rudyard Kipling inanother story calls the 'ink-pool'; and readers of Dante GabrielRossetti will recall to mind the doings of the Spirits of the Beryl. 

In a large number of stories the magic mirror is not a looking-glass atall. But the beryl, the ink-pool, Dr. Dee's famous spherical speculum, the rock crystal, or even a glass of water, may all, according to theadepts, have the same properties as Vulcan's mirror, in which Penelope, the wife of Ulysses, beheld, according to Sir John Davies, a vision ofall the wonder and grandeur of Queen Elizabeth's Court to be. Even apolished sword-blade has been asserted to have made an effective magicmirror, and it is recorded that Jacob Boehme penetrated into theinnermost secrets of nature and the hearts of men by means of a tin cup. 

As to cups, the Septuagint gives one to understand that the cup placedby Joseph in the sack of Benjamin in Egypt was not an ordinarydrinking-vessel, but a divining-cup. Now, the way of divining with a cupwas to fill it with pure water, and to read the images which were thenreflected. 

Some writers have supposed, from the mention of Urim and Thummim inExodus, that divination by mirror was a recognised institution among theJews. Urim signifies 'lights, ' and Thummim 'reflections, ' and the nameswere applied to the six bright and six dark precious stones on thebreastplate of the high priest when he went to seek special revelations. 

Cambuscan's mirror was, according to Chaucer, of Oriental origin. It wasgiven by the King of Tartary to the King of Araby, and it seemed topossess all the virtues of several kinds of magic mirrors. Thus itshowed whether love was returned, whether an individual confronted withit were friend or foe, and what trouble was in store for those whoconsulted it. Merlin's mirror, also called Venus's looking-glass, hadsome of these properties, but was made in Wales, and was given byMerlin to King Ryence. It revealed what was being done by friend or foeat a distance, and it also enabled the fair Britomart to read thefeatures, and also the name, of her future husband. 

The consultation of a pool, on certain special occasions, for thelineaments of 'the coming man, ' has been a common enough practice withlove-sick damsels in much more recent times. 

The wonderful looking-glass of Lao, described by Lien Chi Altangi inGoldsmith's Citizen of the World, reflected the mind as well as thebody, and the Emperor Chusi used to make his ladies dress both theirheads and their hearts before it every morning. Great, however, as arethe Chinese in divination, and numerous as are their superstitions, wedo not find, _pace_ Oliver Goldsmith, that the mirror occupies anyprominent place in their magic. 

One of the most famous dealers in catoptromancy (divination by mirror)in this country was Dr. John Dee, who flourished about the middle of thesixteenth century. He had a speculum called the Shew Stone, andsometimes the Holy Stone, with which he divined by the aid of a mediumnamed Kelly. This Kelly was a notoriously bad character, so his exampledoes not carry out the popular idea that the seer must be a stainlesschild, or some absolutely pure-minded being. Dr. Dee professed to have anumber of regular spirit-visitors, whom he described with muchcircumstantial minuteness, and thus his mirror-magic seems to havepossessed more of the character of spiritualistic manifestations thanof the usual Oriental crystallomancy. 

The famous Cagliostro--Prince of Scoundrels, as Carlyle called him--useda bottle of pure water, into which he directed a child to gaze, withresults which were not always satisfactory. 

The Orientalist, Lane, published some sixty years ago, or more, acircumstantial narrative of an experience he had with an Egyptianmagician, along with Mr. Salt, a British Consul. Invocations wereliberally used, in order to summon the two genii of the magician, andverses were recited from the Koran, in order that the eyes of themedium--a boy--should be opened in a supernatural manner. The magicianselected one at random from a group of boys, and drew in the palm of theboy's right hand a magic square, inscribed with Arabic figures. He thenpoured ink into the centre, and told the boy to gaze fixedly, while hehimself proceeded to drop more written invocations, on slips of paper, into a chafing-dish. 

For some time the boy saw nothing but the reflection of the magician, and then he began to describe various scenes. At last Lane asked thatLord Nelson should be called up, and the boy said that he saw a man indark-blue clothes, with his left arm across his breast. It was explainedthat the boy saw things as in a mirror, and that Nelson's empty rightsleeve worn across the breast naturally appeared in the glass as theleft arm. Now, the boy may have heard of Nelson, but could scarcely haveseen him, though the figure of so famous a man must have been familiarto the magician. Hypnotism has, therefore, been suggested as theexplanation of what Lane witnessed, and which seemed so miraculous atthe time. 

Many scholars, philosophers, and scientific students of mediĉval times, who had no pretence to magic, had yet firm faith in the power ofmirrors, constructed in a special manner and under auspicious planetaryinfluences, to reveal both the distant-present and the future. 

One of the modern adepts was a French magician, who foretold by hismirror the death of a Prince, and the regency of the Duc d'Orleans. 

There are many published prescriptions for the making of a magic mirror, but that which has already been given from Paracelsus is a fair specimenof the ultra-scientific method. Among directions for the use of thecrystal may be cited those of Barth:

'When a crystal has been ground and polished, it is dedicated to somespirit or other; this is called its consecration. Before being used, itis charged--that is, an invocation is made to the spirit, wherein avision is requested of the things that one wishes to experience. Ordinarily, a young person is chosen to look into the glass and beholdthe prayed-for vision. After a little time the crystal becomes envelopedin a cloud, and a tiny vision appears, which represents in miniature thepersons, scenes, and things that are necessary to supply the requiredinformation. When the information has been obtained, the crystal isdischarged, and after receiving thanks for the services he hasperformed, the spirit is dismissed. '

In modern crystal-gazing and mirror-reading, however, there is noinvocation. 

An American spiritualist says that he once put a crystal into the handsof a lady who knew nothing about its reputed virtues, but whostraightway began to describe a scene which she saw in it, and whichturned out afterwards to be a simultaneous incident at Trebizond. Themediumistic influence of the spirit of a North American Indian may notcommend the story to non-spiritualists. 

The experiences of the Countess Wurmbrand, as related in her curiousbook, Visionen im Wasserglass, are more matter-of-fact, perhaps, butwere also assisted by a mysterious spirit, who enabled her to readpictures in the glass and to describe them to her husband. She was moresuccessful in her time than more recent experimenters and psychologistsof her own country have been since. 

The Society for Psychical Research have given much attention to thesubject, and have reported some remarkable observations--especiallythose of Miss Goodrich, a lady who has made several scores ofexperiments of her own in crystal-reading, always taking notesimmediately. She tried the back of a watch, a glass of water, a mirror, and other reflecting surfaces, before arriving at the conclusion thatpolished rock crystal affords the best speculum for divination. 

Having reached this point, the lady draped her selected crystal inblack, set it where no surrounding objects could be reflected in it, andsought it when in search of light and leading. Sometimes herconsultations were very practical. Thus, one finds among her notes:

'I had carelessly destroyed a letter without preserving the address ofmy correspondent. I knew the county, and searching a map, recognised thename of the town, one unfamiliar to me, but which I was sure I shouldknow when I saw it. But I had no clue to the name of the house orstreet, till at last it struck me to test the value of the crystal as ameans of recalling forgotten knowledge. A very short inspection suppliedme with "Hibbs House, " in gray letters on a white ground, and havingnothing better to suggest from any other source, I risked posting myletter to the address so strangely supplied. A day or two brought ananswer headed "Hibbs House" in gray letters on a white ground. '

Let us take an example of another of Miss Goodrich's crystal-readings, and let it be remembered that they are all reported as experiments ofour own day:

'One of my earliest experiences was of a picture, perplexing and whollyunexpected--a quaint oak chair, an old hand, a worn black coat-sleeveresting on the arm of the chair--slowly recognised as a recollection ofa room in a country vicarage which I had not entered, and but seldomrecalled, since I was a child of ten. But whence came this vision? Whatassociation has conjured up this picture? What have I done to-day? Atlength the clue is found. I have to-day been reading Dante, firstenjoyed with the help of our dear old vicar many a year ago. '

And again: 'I happened to want the date of Ptolemy Philadelphus, which Icould not recall, though feeling sure that I knew it, and that Iassociated it with some event of importance. When looking in thecrystal, some hours later, I found a picture of an old man, with long, white hair and beard, dressed like a Lyceum Shylock, and busy writing ina large book with tarnished massive clasps. I wondered much who he was, and what he could possibly be doing, and thought it a good opportunityof carrying out a suggestion which had been made to me of examiningobjects in the crystal with a magnifying-glass. The glass revealed to methat my old gentleman was writing in Greek, though the lines faded awayas I looked, all but the characters he had last traced, the Latinnumerals LXX. Then it flashed into my mind that he was one of the JewishElders at work on the Septuagint, and that this date, 277 B. C. , wouldserve equally well for Ptolemy Philadelphus. It may be worth while toadd, though the fact was not in my conscious memory at the moment, thatI had once learnt a chronology on a mnemonic system which substitutedletters for figures, and the _memoria technica_ for this date was, "NowJewish Elders indite a Greek copy. "'

One may, perhaps, find a simple and easy explanation of Miss Goodrich'smirror-reading, in a theory of unconscious cerebration. The crystalsimply assisted her memory, and recalled incidents and scenes, just asa chance odour, a bar of music, a word, a look, a name, will often dofor most of us. Clearly there is nothing necessarily either magic orspiritualistic in this particular example of the magic mirror. 

There are, however, some other experiments recorded which seem to beonly explainable on a theory of telepathy; but Mr. Max Dessoir, commenting on the evidence of Miss Goodrich in an American Review, attributes the whole phenomena merely to 'revived memory. '

This is all very well as to past events, but what shall we say to a casesuch as the following, among Miss Goodrich's experiments?

'In January last I saw in the crystal the figure of a man crouching at asmall window, and looking into the room from the outside. I could notsee his features, which appeared to be muffled, but the crystal wasparticularly dark that evening, and the picture being an unpleasant one, I did not persevere. I concluded the vision to be a result of adiscussion in my presence of the many stories of burglary with which thenewspapers had lately abounded, and reflected with a passingsatisfaction that the only windows in the house divided into four panes, as were those of the crystal picture, were in the front attic, andalmost inaccessible. Three days later a fire broke out in that veryroom, which had to be entered from outside through the window, the faceof the fireman being covered with a wet cloth as a protection from thesmoke, which rendered access through the door impossible. '

Was this coincidence, or prevision, or what Mr. Dessoir calls the'falsification of memory'? The thing was either a miracle, which none ofus is prepared to accept, or the after-confusion of a vague forebodingwith an actual occurrence in the mind of the observer. Mr. Dessoirsuggested another explanation of crystal pictures in the doctrine of thedouble consciousness of the human soul; but that opens up anothersubject. 

While we have seen that mirror and crystal-reading is one of the mostancient of occult practices, we have also seen that it is practised inour own country even at this day. Moreover, it is said that there is inEngland a wholesale manufacture of magic mirrors as a regularindustry--the site of which, however, the present writer is unable tospecify. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE MAGIC MOON. 

Certainly since, and probably long before, Job 'beheld the moon walkingin brightness, ' all the peoples of the earth have surrounded thatluminary with legends, with traditions, with myths, and withsuperstitions of various kinds. In our time, and in our own country, thesentiment with which the orb of night is regarded is a soft and pleasingone, for

 'That orbèd maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, '

is supposed to look with approval upon happy lovers, and with sympathyupon those who are encountering the proverbial rough places in thecourse of true love. Why the moon should be partial to lovers one mighteasily explain on very prosaic grounds--perhaps not unlike the reasoningof the Irishman who called the sun a coward because he goes away as soonas it begins to grow dark, whereas the blessed moon stays with us mostof the night!

Except Lucian and M. Jules Verne, one does not readily recall anyone whoprofesses to have been actually up to the moon. Lucian had by far themost eventful experience, for he met Endymion, who entertained himroyally, and did all the honours of the planet to which he had beenwafted from earth in his sleep. The people of Moonland, Lucian assuresus, live upon flying frogs, only they do not eat them; they cook thefrogs on a fire and swallow the smoke. For drink, he says, they poundair in a mortar, and thus obtain a liquid very like dew. They havevines, only the grapes yield not wine, but water, being, in fact, hailstones, such as descend upon the earth when the wind shakes thevines in the moon. Then the Moonfolk have a singular habit of taking outtheir eyes when they do not wish to see things--a habit which has itsdisadvantages, for sometimes they mislay their eyes and have to borrow apair from their neighbours. The rich, however, provide against suchaccidents by always keeping a good stock of eyes on hand. 

Lucian also discovered the reason of the red clouds which we on earthoften see at sunset. They are dyed by the immense quantity of bloodwhich is shed in the battles between the Moonfolk and the Sunfolk, whoare at constant feud. 

The reason why the gentler sex are so fond of the moon is satiricallysaid to be because there is a man in it! But who and what is he? An oldwriter, John Lilly, says: 'There liveth none under the sunne that knowswhat to make of the man in the moone. ' And yet many have tried. 

One old ballad, for instance, says:

 'The man in the moon drinks claret, But he is a dull Jack-a-Dandy. Would he know a sheep's head from a carrot, He should learn to drink cyder and brandy'

--which may be interesting, but is certainly inconsequential. It iscurious, too, that while the moon is feminine in English, French, Latinand Greek, it is masculine in German and cognate tongues. Now, if thereis a man in the moon, and if it be the case, as is asserted byantiquarians, that the 'man in the moon' is one of the most ancient aswell as one of the most popular superstitions of the world, themasculine is surely the right gender after all. Those who look toSanscrit for the solution of all mythological, as well as philological, problems will confirm this, for in Sanscrit the moon is masculine. Dr. Jamieson, of Scottish Dictionary fame, gets out of the difficulty bysaying that the moon was regarded as masculine in relation to the earth, whose husband he was; but feminine in relation to the sun, whose wifeshe was!

With the Greeks the moon was a female, Diana, who caught up her loverEndymion; and Endymion was thus, probably, the first 'man in the moon. 'The Jews, again, have a tradition that Jacob is in the moon; and thereis the nursery story that the person in the moon is a man who wascondemned for gathering sticks on Sunday. This myth comes to us fromGermany--at all events, Mr. R. A. Proctor traced it there with muchcircumstantiality. Mr. Baring-Gould, however, finds in some parts ofGermany a tradition that both a man and a woman are in the moon--the manbecause he strewed brambles and thorns on the church path to hinderpeople from attending Sunday mass, and the woman because she made butteron Sunday. This man carries two bundles of thorns, and the woman herbutter-tub, for ever. In Swabia they say there is a mannikin in themoon, who stole wood; and in Frisia they say it is a man, who stolecabbages. The Scandinavian legend is that the moon and sun are brotherand sister--the moon in this case being the male. The story goes thatMâni, the moon, took up two children from earth, named Bil and Hjuki, asthey were carrying a pitcher of water from the well Brygir, and in thismyth Mr. Baring-Gould discovers the origin of the nursery rhyme of Jackand Jill. 'These children, ' he says, 'are the moon-spots, and the fallof Jack, and the subsequent fall of Jill, simply represent the vanishingof one moon-spot after another as the moon wanes. '

In Britain there are references in the ancient monkish writings to a manin the moon; and in the Record Office there is an impression of a sealof the fourteenth century bearing the device of a man carrying a bundleof thorns in the moon. The legend attached is, 'Te Waltere docebo curspinas phebo gero' ('I will teach thee, Walter, why I carry thorns tothe moon'), which Mr. Hudson Taylor, who describes the seal, thinks tobe an enigmatical way of saying that honesty is the best policy--thethorns having evidently been stolen. 

Chaucer has more than one reference to the man in the moon, and so havemost of the older poets. Shakespeare not only refers frequently to 'a'man, but in the Midsummer Night's Dream Peter Quince distinctlystipulates that the man who is to play 'the moon' shall carry 'a bush ofthorns. '

The man in the moon, according to Dante, is Cain, carrying a bundle ofthorns, and yet in that planet he found located only those comparativelymild sinners who had partly neglected their vows. A French legend, onthe other hand, identifies 'the man' with Judas Iscariot. _Per contra_, in India the Buddhist legend places a hare in the moon, carried there byIndra for kindly service rendered to him on earth. 

May not this hare of the Indian mythology be the moon-dog of some of ourown legends? Peter Quince, we know, recommended that the moon shouldhave a dog as well as a bundle of sticks, and the association of thequadruped in the story is very common. The North American Indiansbelieve that the moon is inhabited by a man and a dog. The Maorisbelieve in the man, but not in the dog, which is not surprising when weremember the limited fauna of the antipodes. The Maori legend runssomething like this. A man called Rona went out one night to fetch waterfrom a well, but, falling, sprained his ankle so as to be unable toreturn home. All at once the moon, which had risen, began to approachhim. In terror he clung to a tree, which gave way, and both tree andRona fell on the moon, where they remain even unto this day. Here wehave clearly a variation of the 'bundle of sticks' legend, but there isan absence of apparent cause and effect in the Maori legend which isunsatisfactory. 

More precise is the Bushman legend, quoted by Dr. Bleek. According tothis, the moon is a man who incurs the wrath of the sun, and isconsequently pierced by the knife (the rays) of the latter, until thereis only a little piece of him left. Then he cries for mercy for hischildren's sake, and is allowed to grow again until once more he offendshis sunship; the whole process being repeated monthly. 

Dr. Rink relates a curious tradition of the Eskimo, not quite quotablehere, the gist of which is that a man who desired to make his sister hiswife was transformed into the moon, while the woman became the sun. Something like the same legend has been traced as far south as Panama. Another notable thing about Eskimo traditions is that the moon isassociated with fertility in woman. This superstition is both veryancient and very widespread, and, indeed, seems to have been the rootboth of the moon-worship of the Oriental nations and of the mysteriousrites of the Egyptians referred to by Herodotus. Luna is identified bysome mythologists with Soma of the Indian mythology, _i. E. _, the emblemof reproduction. 

In China, according to Dr. Dennys, the man in the moon is calledYue-lao, and he is believed to hold in his hands the power ofpredestining marriages. He is supposed to tie together the futurehusband and wife with an invisible silken cord, which never parts whilelife lasts. Miss Gordon-Cumming, in her interesting account ofWanderings in China, relates that, in the neighbourhood of Foo-Chow, shewitnessed a great festival being held in honour of the full moon, whichwas mainly attended by women. There was a Temple-play, or sing-song, going on all day and most of the night, and each woman carried a stoolso that she might sit out the whole performance. This recalls what Mr. Riley states in The Book of Days, as related by John Andrey in theseventeenth century: 'In Scotland, especially among the Highlanders, thewomen make a courtesy to the new moon, and our English women in thiscountry have a touch of this, some of them sitting astride on a gate orstile the first evening the new moon appears, and saying, "A fine moon!God bless her!" The like I observed in Herefordshire. '

As illustrative of this superstition may be instanced a curious practicein this country, in olden times, of divination by the moon. It is quotedby Mr. Thiselton-Dyer from an old chap-book: 'When you go to bed (at theperiod of harvest moon) place under your pillow a Prayer-Book open atthe part of the matrimonial service, which says, "With this ring I theewed"; place on it a key, a ring, a flower, and a sprig of willow, asmall heart-cake, a crust, and the following cards: a ten of clubs, nineof hearts, ace of spades, and ace of diamonds. Wrap all these in a thinhandkerchief, and, on getting into bed, cover your hands, and say:

 "Luna, every woman's friend, To me thy goodness condescend: Let me this night in visions see Emblems of my destiny. "

It is certainly hard to imagine pleasant dreams as the result of such avery uncomfortably-stuffed pillow. 

In this same connection may be named other items of folklore related byMr. Dyer. For instance, in Devonshire it is believed that if on seeingthe first new moon of the year you take off one stocking and run acrossa field, you will find between two of your toes a hair which will be thecolour of the lover you are to have. In Berkshire the proceeding is moresimple, for you merely look at the new moon, and say:

 'New moon, new moon, I hail thee! By all the virtue in thy body, Grant this night that I may see He who my true love shall be!'

The result is guaranteed to be as satisfactory as it is in Ireland, where the people are said to point to the new moon with a knife, andsay:

 'New moon, true morrow, be true now to me, That I to-morrow my true love may see!'

In Yorkshire, again, the practice was to catch the reflection of the newmoon in a looking-glass, the number of reflections signifying the numberof years which will elapse before marriage. All these superstitions aresuggestive of that which Tylor calls 'one of the most instructiveastrological doctrines'--namely, that of the 'sympathy of growing anddeclining nature with the waxing and waning moon. ' Tylor says that aclassical precept was to set eggs under the hen at new moon, and that aLithuanian precept was to wean boys on a waxing and girls on a waningmoon--in order to make the boys strong and the girls delicate. On thesame grounds, he says, Orkney-men object to marry except with a growingmoon, and Mr. Dyer says that in Cornwall, when a child is born in theinterval between an old and a new moon, it is believed that he willnever live to manhood. 

Dr. Turner relates several traditions of the moon current in Samoa. There is one of a visit paid to the planet by two young men--Punifanga, who went up by a tree, and Tafaliu, who went up on a column of smoke. There is another of a woman, Sina, who was busy one evening cuttingmulberry-bark for cloth with her child beside her. It was a time offamine, and the rising moon reminded her of a great bread-fruit--just asin our country it has reminded some people of a green cheese. Lookingup, she said: 'Why cannot you come down and let my child have a bit ofyou?' The moon was so indignant at being taken for an article of food, that she came down forthwith and took up woman, child and wood. Therethey are to this day, for in the full moon the Samoans still see thefeatures of Sina, the face of the child, and the board and mallet. 

Mr. Andrew Lang finds in an Australian legend of the moon somethingoddly like Grimm's tale of the Wolf and the Kids, which, again, helikens to the old Greek myth of Cronos. The Australian legend is thatbirds were the original gods, and that the eagle especially was a greatcreative power. The moon was a mischievous being, who walked about theearth doing all the evil he could. One day he swallowed the eagle. Theeagle's wives coming up, the moon asked where he could find a well. Theypointed out one, and while he was drinking, they struck him with a stonetomahawk, which made him disgorge the eagle. This legend is otherwisesuggestive from the circumstances that among the Greeks the eagle wasthe special bird of Zeus, and it was the eagle which carried offGanymede. 

There is another Australian fable that the moon was a man, and the sun awoman of doubtful reputation who appears at dawn in a coat of redkangaroo-skin belonging to one of her lovers. In Mexico, also, the moonis a man, across whose face an angry immortal once threw a rabbit; hencethe marks on the surface of the planet. These same marks are accountedfor in the Eskimo legend already mentioned as the impressions of thewoman's sooty fingers on the face of her pursuer. By some mythologiststhe moon is thought to be Medea, but it is more common to interpretMedea as the daughter of the sun, _i. E. _, the dawn. 

It is certainly not a little curious to find the moon-lore, as thestar-lore, having so many points of resemblance among suchwidely-separated and different peoples as the Greeks, the Egyptians, theAustralians, the Eskimos, the Bushmen of South Africa, the NorthAmerican Indians, and the New Zealand Maoris. The comparativemythologists would argue from this resemblance a common origin of themyth, and a distribution or communication from one race to the other. The folk-lore mythologists would infer nothing of the sort. They saythere is nothing remarkable in all savage races imputing human motivesand sex to the heavenly bodies, for, in fact, to this day there aresavages, as in the South Pacific, who suppose even stones to be male andfemale, and to propagate their species. On this method of interpretationthe hypothesis is not that the Australians, Indians, etc. , receivedtheir myths from, say, the Greeks, either by community of stock or bycontact and borrowing, but because the ancestors of the Greeks passedthrough the same intellectual condition as the primitive races we nowknow. And thus it is that in listening to the beautiful legends of theGreeks, we are but, as Bacon says, hearing the harsh ideas of earlierpeoples 'blown softly through the flutes of the Grecians. '

Now, beside the personality of the moon, and the peculiar influence heor she is supposed to exercise on mortals, there has survived an oldsuperstition that the moon has direct influence on the weather. Aproposof this association, there is a pretty little Hindoo legend which iscurrent in Southern India, and which has been translated by Miss Frere, daughter of Sir Bartle Frere. This is the story as told her by herLingaet ayah:

'One day the Sun, the Moon, and the Wind went out to dine with theiruncle and aunt, the Thunder and Lightning. Their mother (one of the mostdistant stars you see far up in the sky) waited alone for herchildren's return. Now, both the Sun and the Wind were greedy andselfish. They enjoyed the great feast that had been prepared for them, without a thought of saving any of it to take home to their mother; butthe gentle Moon did not forget her. Of every dainty dish that wasbrought round she placed a small portion under one of her beautiful longfingernails, that the Star might also have a share in the treat. Ontheir return, their mother, who had kept watch for them all night longwith her bright little eye, said: "Well, children, what have you broughthome for me?" Then the Sun (who was eldest) said: "I have broughtnothing home for you. I went out to enjoy myself with my friends, not tofetch a dinner for my mother!" And the Wind said: "Neither have Ibrought anything home for you, mother. You could hardly expect me tobring a collection of good things for you, when I merely went out for myown pleasure. " But the Moon said: "Mother, fetch a plate; see what Ihave brought you;" and shaking her hands, she showered down such achoice dinner as never was seen before. Then the Star turned to the Sun, and spoke thus: "Because you went out to amuse yourself with yourfriends, and feasted and enjoyed yourself without any thought of yourmother at home, you shall be cursed. Henceforth your rays shall ever behot and scorching, and shall burn all that they touch. All men shallhate you, and cover their heads when you appear"; and this is why thesun is so hot to this day. Then she turned to the Wind, and said: "Youalso, who forgot your mother in the midst of your selfish pleasures, hear your doom. You shall always blow in the hot, dry weather, and shallparch and shrivel all living things, and men shall detest and avoid youfrom this very time"; and this is why the wind in the hot weather isstill so disagreeable. But to the Moon she said: "Daughter, because youremembered your mother, and kept for her a share in your own enjoyment, from henceforth you shall be ever cool, and calm, and bright. No noxiousglare shall accompany your pure rays, and men shall always call youblessed"; and that is why the moon's light is so soft, and cool, andbeautiful even to this day. '

It is remarkable, nevertheless, that among Western peoples, at any rate, the moon has usually been associated with the uncanny. It is an oldbelief, for instance, that the moon is the abode of bad spirits; and inthe old story of the Vampire it is notable that the creature, as a lastrequest, begged that he might be buried where no sunlight, but onlymoonlight, might fall on his grave. Witches were supposed to be able tocontrol the moon, as witness the remark of Prospero in The Tempest:

 'His mother was a witch, and one so strong, That could control the moon. '

The Rev. Timothy Harley, who has collected much moon-lore, suggests thatif the broom on which witches rode to the moon be a type of the wind, 'we may guess how the fancy grew up that the airy creation could controlthose atmospheric vapours on which the light and humidity of the nightwere supposed to depend. '

But the 'glamour' of the moon is not a mere poetic invention or alover's fancy. Mr. Moncure Conway reminds us that _glám_, in itsnominative form _glámir_, is a poetical name for the moon, to be foundin the Prose Edda. It is given in the Glossary as one of the old namesfor the moon. Mr. Conway also says that there is a curious old Sanscritword, _glau_ or _gláv_, which is explained in all the old lexicons asmeaning the moon. Hence 'the ghost or goblin Glam (of the old legend ofGrettir) seems evidently to have arisen from a personification of thedelusive and treacherous effects of moonlight on the benightedtraveller. '

Similar delusive effects are found referred to in old Hindoo writings, as, for instance, in the following passages from Bhása, a poet of theseventh century:

'The cat laps the moonbeams in the bowl of water, thinking them to bemilk; the elephant thinks that the moonbeams threaded through theintervals of the trees are the fibres of the lotus-stalk; the womansnatches at the moonbeams as they lie on the bed, taking them for hermuslin garment. Oh, how the moon, intoxicated with radiance, bewildersall the world!'

Again:

'The bewildered herdsmen place the pails under the cows, thinking thatthe milk is flowing; the maidens also put the blue lotus-blossom intheir ears, thinking that it is the white; the mountaineer's wifesnatches up the jujube fruit, avaricious for pearls. Whose mind is notled astray by the thickly-clustering moonbeams?'

Such was the 'glamour' of Glam (the moon) in ancient eyes, and still itworks on lovers' hearts. The fascination has been felt and expressed bynearly all the poets, and by none better, perhaps, than by Sir PhilipSidney:

 'With what sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrow tries? Sure if that long with love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case. I read it in thy looks--thy languish'd grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. '

The number of human beings who have, articulately or inarticulately, cried with Endymion, 'What is there in thee, Moon, that thou should'stmove my heart so potently?' are not to be measured in ordinary figures. 

To return, however, to the bad side of Luna's character. We read that inAssyria deadly influences were ascribed to the moon. In Vedic mythologythere is a story, which Mr. Moncure Conway tells in Demonology andDevil-lore, of a quarrel between Brahma and Vishnu as to which was thefirst born. Siva interferes, and says he is the first born, but willrecognise as his superior whoever is able to see the crown of his heador the soles of his feet. Vishnu thereupon transforms himself into aboar, pierces underground, and thus sees the feet of Siva, who saluteshim on his return as the firstborn of the gods. Now, De Gubernatisregards this fable as 'making the boar emblem of the hidden moon'; andMr. Conway thinks there is no doubt that the boar at an early periodbecame emblematic of the wild forces of Nature. 'From being hunted byKing Odin on earth, it passed to be his favourite food in Valhalla, anda prominent figure in his spectral hunt. ' But it is with the moon, notwith Odin, that we are at present concerned, and so note two curiousitems mentioned by Conway. In Sicilian legend, he says, 'Zafarana, bythrowing three hog's bristles on embers, renews her husband's youth';and in Esthonian legend, a prince, by eating pork, acquires the facultyof understanding the language of birds. All this opens up a verysuggestive field of inquiry. Thus, Plutarch says that the reason why theJews would not eat swine's flesh was because Adonis was slain by a boar, and Bacchus and Adonis, he says, were the same divinities. Now, if weturn to Herodotus, we find that wonderful narrator saying: 'The onlydeities to whom the Egyptians offer swine are Bacchus and Luna; to thesethey sacrifice swine when the moon is full, after which they eat theflesh, ' which at other times they disdained. The meaning of thesesacrifices is understood by those interested, and I do not propose to gofurther into the matter. All I wish to do is to point out the curiousinvolvements, among so many nations, of the moon and the boar. 

May we not even trace a connection with the superstition current inSuffolk, according to 'C. W. J. , ' in The Book of Days? 'C. W. J. ' saysthat in his part of the world it is considered unlucky to kill a pigwhen the moon is on the wane; and if it is done, the pork will waste inboiling. 'I have known, ' he says, 'the shrinking of bacon in the potattributed to the fact of the pig having been killed in the moon'sdecrease; and I have also known the death of poor piggy delayed orhastened so as to happen during its increase. ' Truly the oldsuperstitions die hard!

The moon's supposed influence on the weather is a matter of generalknowledge. The writer last quoted mentions it as a very prevalent beliefthat the general condition of the atmosphere throughout the world, during any lunation, depends on whether the moon changed before or aftermidnight. Another superstition is, that if the new moon happens on aSaturday the weather will be bad during the month. On the other hand, inSuffolk the old moon in the arms of the new one is accounted a sign offine weather; contrary to the belief in Scotland, where, it may beremembered, in the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens, it is taken as a presageof storm and disaster. 

Shakespeare has many allusions to the moon's influence on the weather, as: 'The moon, the governess of floods, pale in her anger, washes theair'; 'The moon, one thinks, looks with a watery eye; and when sheweeps, weeps every little flower'; 'Upon the corner of the moon therehangs a vaporous drop profound'; and so forth. Then we have the oldproverb: 'So many days old the moon is on Michaelmas Day, so many floodsafter. ' Other beliefs are mentioned by Mr. Harley, such as, that ifChristmas comes during a waning moon, we shall have a good year, andthe converse; that new moon on Monday is a certain sign of good weather;that a misty moon indicates heavy rain; that the horns of the moonturned upward predict a good, and turned downward a bad, season; that alarge star near the moon is a certain prognostication of storm. 

In fact, the superstitions in this connection are legion, and are notconfined to any country. They are as common in China, where the moon isstill worshipped, as they are in England, where, in some places, old menstill touch their hats and maidens still bob a courtesy in sight of thenew moon. Thus the relics of moon-worship are about us still, as well asa strong popular belief that the moon is an active physical agent. Thatthe actual influence of the moon on the tides lies at the basis of thebelief in its influence on the weather is probable; and, at any rate, itis curious that the Persians held that the moon was the cause of anabundant supply of water and rain; while in a Japanese fairy-tale themoon is made to rule over the blue waste of the sea with itsmultitudinous salt waters. The horticultural superstitions about sowingand planting according to the age of the moon is, no doubt, a product ofthe fusion of the meteorological superstition and that of the old-worldbelief in Luna being the goddess of reproduction. 

Any who have still doubts on the meteorological question cannot dobetter than refer to a letter of Professor Nichol's--once Professor ofAstronomy in the University of Glasgow--which is quoted in The Book ofDays. He asserts positively, as the result of scientific observation, that no relation whatever exists between the moon and the weather. 

But does any exist between the moon and the brain? 'Whom the gods woulddestroy, they first make mad'; and the moon was supposed to be theinstrument--nay, still is, as the very word 'lunacy' implies. The oldastrologers used to say that she governed the brain, stomach, bowels, and left eye of the male, and the right eye of the female. Some suchinfluences were evidently believed in by the Jews, as witness Psalmcxxi. : 'The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. ' Itmay be remarked that Dr. Forbes Winslow is not very decided indismissing the theory of the influence of the moon on the insane. Hesays it is purely speculative, but he does not controvert it. Thesubject is, however, too large to enter upon here. Whether or not it betrue that 'when the moon's in the full then wit's on the wane, ' itcertainly is not true, as appears to be believed in Sussex, that the newMay Moon has power to cure scrofulous complaints. 

Before leaving the subject, it is well to mention a remarkablecoincidence to which Mr. Harley draws attention. In China, wheremoon-worship largely prevails, during the festival of Yue-Ping, which isheld during the eighth month annually, incense is burned in the temples, cakes are made like the moon, and at full moon the people spread outoblations and make prostrations to the planet. These cakes aremoon-cakes, and veritable offerings to the Queen of Heaven, whorepresents the female principle in Chinese theology. 'If we turn now toJeremiah vii. 18, and read there, "The women knead dough to make cakesto the Queen of Heaven, and to pour out drink-offerings unto othergods, " and remember that, according to Rashi, these cakes of the Hebrewshad the image of the god or goddess stamped upon them, we are in view ofa fact of much interest. ' The interest becomes greater when we learnthat in parts of Lancashire there exists a precisely similar custom ofmaking cakes in honour of the Queen of Heaven. 

From these facts, the discovery of two buns, each marked with a cross, in Herculaneum, and other evidences, we are driven to the conclusionthat the 'hot-cross buns' of Christian England are in reality but arelic of moon-worship!

CHAPTER V. 

THE DEVIL'S CANDLE. 

So much legendary lore and so many strange fables have had their originin the mandrake, or the 'Devil's Candle, ' as the Arabians call it, thatit is worth while to endeavour to trace if any, and what, analogy therebe between it and the mandragoras of the Greeks and the Soma of theIndian mythology. 

The mandrake is so called from the German _Mandragen_, 'resemblingman'--at least, so says Mr. Thiselton-Dyer; but this derivation is notquite satisfactory. The botanical name is _Mandragora officinalis_, andsometimes the May-apple, or _Podophyllum peltatum_, is also calledmandrake; but the actual plant of fact and fancy belongs to the_Solanum_, or potato family. 

Although one may doubt if the English name be really derived from theGerman _Mandragen_, it is certain that the Germans have long regardedthe plant as something uncanny. Other names which they have for it are_Zauberwurzel_, or Sorcerer's Root, and _Hexenmännchen_, or Witch'sMannikin, while they made little dolls or idols from it, which theyregarded with superstitious veneration, and called _Erdmann_, orEarth-man. 

Yet in other places, according to one authority, the mandrake waspopularly supposed to be 'perpetually watched over by Satan; and if itbe pulled up at certain holy times and with certain invocations, theevil spirit will appear to do the bidding of the practitioner. ' Asuperstition once common in the South of England was that the mandrakehad a human heart at its root, and, according to Timbs, it was generallybelieved that the person who pulled it would instantaneously fall dead;that the root shrieked or groaned whenever separated from the earth; andthat whoever heard the shriek would either die shortly afterwards orbecome afflicted with madness. 

To this last superstition there is direct reference made by Shakespearein Romeo and Juliet:

 'And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth, That living mortals hearing them run mad. '

Frequent allusions to this superstition are to be found in the oldpoets, although it is held by some that the effects claimed fordecoctions of the mandrake really refer to those of the nightshade. Thisconfusion has certainly arisen at times, but the most general ideaconcerning the mandrake was that it was a stimulant rather than anarcotic. It is true that Shakespeare regarded mandragora as an opiate, for he makes Cleopatra to exclaim:

 'Give me to drink mandragora, That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away. '

And, again, when in Othello he makes Iago say:

 'Nor poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world Can ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou owedst yesterday. '

But, on the other hand, we find Apuleius--himself, by the way, notunsuspected of magical arts--writing that when the root of the mandrakeis steeped in wine it produces vehement intoxication. The same idea isreflected in Mrs. Browning's Dead Pan:

 'In what revels are ye sunken In old Ethiopia? Have the Pygmies made you drunken, Bathing in mandragora, Your divine pale lips that shiver Like the lotus in the river?'

And there can be little doubt that the mysterious 'Lhasis, ' referred toby Sir William Davenant[5]--a word whose etymology is so obscure--isnothing else than the mandrake or mandragora; if so, then we see thatthe plant was valued for its exciting and stimulating effects ratherthan as an opiate. 

Many commentators and most dictionaries dispose of Reuben's mandrakes assomething altogether different from the plant now known by the name; butthere is really no warrant for such a conclusion. The _Mandragoraofficinalis_ is quite common in Celicia, Syria, and elsewhere in theEast, and is easily identifiable with the root of Baaras, which Josephusdescribes in the Wars of the Jews. This root, he says, is in colour liketo that of flame, and towards the evening it sends out a certain raylike lightning. It is not easily to be pulled, it will not yieldquietly, and it is certain death to anyone who dares pull it, unless hehangs it with the head downwards. As to the uses of the root, Josephuscontinues: 'After all his pains in getting it, it is only valuable onaccount of one virtue it hath: that if it only be brought to sickpersons, it quickly drives away those called Demons, which are no otherthan the spirits of the wicked, which enter into men that are alive andkill them, unless they can obtain some help against them'; and the rootwas esteemed a useful stimulant, although in Baaras, at any rate, itseems to have lost its reputation as a love-philtre. It is noteworthythat Josephus also tells how Solomon had great skill in enchantments, and cast out devils by means of this root--an accomplishment he is saidto have learned from some of the numerous foreign ladies with whom hesurrounded himself. 

Now, it is interesting to turn from the old Jewish historian to the oldEnglish herbalist, Gerarde, who in 1597 wrote in his Herball pointingout how, by 'the corruption of time and the errour of some, ' mandragorahas been mistaken for what he calls Circaea, or Enchanter's Nightshade. But of the mandrake, or mandragoras, Gerarde says: 'There hath been manyridiculous tales brought up of this plant, whether of old wives, or somerunagate surgeons, or physickemongers, I know not; but sure some one ormore that sought to make themselves famous or skillful above others werethe first brochers of the errour'--that the root resembles a man. 'Theyadd further, ' he says, 'that it is never, or very seldome, to be foundgrowing naturally, but under a gallowes, where the matter that hathfallen from the dead body hath given it the shape of a man, and thematter of a woman the substance of a female plant, with many other suchdoltish dreames. The fable further affirms that he who would take up aplant thereof . .. He should surely die in short space after. '

This is clearly Josephus's 'root of Baaras' over again. Gerarde furtherholds it to be the identical mandragoras of the Greeks, and calledCircaea because it was used by Circe for love-potions and enchantments. If this be so, then what was the 'moly' given to Odysseus by Hermeswherewith to counteract the charms of Circe? Was it a totally differentplant, or was it merely the same applied on the homoeopathic principle?Mr. Andrew Lang thinks they cannot be the same, because the 'moly' isdescribed by Homer as having a black root and a white flower, while themandragoras is described by Pliny as having a yellow flower and white, fleshy roots. But we know that Homer is somewhat confusing in the matterof colours, and it is possible that various shades of the purplishflower of the true mandrake might appear to one observer as white, andto another as yellow. Upon the whole, the probability is that the twonames meant one and the same plant, for the characteristics are toopeculiar to be alike possessed by different species. If the moly werenot mandragoras there is nothing else known to modern botany that itcould be, unless it were rue, with which some scholars have sought toidentify it, but not very successfully. 

The learned author of Pseudosia Epidemica, or Vulgar Errors, at anyrate, was clearly of opinion that moly and mandragoras were one and thesame. He quotes also from Pliny that the ancient way of pulling the rootwas to get on the windward side of the plant, and with a sword todescribe three circles about it, whilst the operator kept his faceturned to the west. The dangers attending the plucking of mandrakes areshrewdly disposed of by Sir Thomas Browne with the remark that it is'derogatory unto the Providence of God . .. To impose so destructive aquality on any plant . .. Whose parts are usefull unto many. ' The sameauthor mentions the superstition that the mandrake grows under gallows, fructified by the decaying bodies of criminals, that it grows both maleand female, and that it shrieks upon eradication. This last idea hederides as 'false below confute, arising perhaps from a small andstridulous noise which, being firmly rooted, it maketh upon divulsion ofparts. ' 'A slender foundation, ' he remarks, 'for such a vast conception;for such a noise we sometimes observe in other plants--in parsnips, liquorish, eringium, flags, and others. '

The belief that the root of the mandrake resembles the human figure ischaracterized by the writer last quoted, as a 'conceit not to be madeout by ordinary inspection, or any other eyes than such as regarding theclouds behold them in shapes conformable to pre-apprehensions. ' It istraceable to the bifurcation of the root; a formation, however, whichis frequently found 'in carrots, parsnips, briony, and many others. 'There is no other importance, therefore, to be attached to 'the epithetof Pythagoras, who calls it anthropomorphon, and that of Columella, whoterms it semihomo;' nor to Albertus, 'when he affirmed that mandrakesrepresent mankind with the distinction of either sex. ' The roots, whichwere commonly sold in various parts of Europe 'unto ignorant people, handsomely made out the shape of man or woman. But these are notproductions of nature but contrivances of art, as divers have noted. .. . This is vain and fabulous, which ignorant people and simple womenbelieve; for the roots which are carried about by impostors are made ofthe roots of canes, briony, and other plants. ' And the method ofmanufacture is then explained by the erudite doctor. It is evident fromwhat has been cited that the prevalence of the superstition, and theexistence of the German _erdmann_, were matters of common knowledge inthe latter half of the seventeenth century. 

But the superstition can be traced still later, for as recently as 1810some of these root-images were to be seen on sale in certain parts ofFrance, and were purchased as love-charms. It is said that even now atthis very day bits of the _Mandragoras officinalis_ are worn by theyoung men and maidens of Greece to bring them fortune in theirlove-affairs. 

In some parts of England--viz. , in Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire, andSomersetshire--the briony is called mandrake, and a small portion of theroot is frequently given to horses among their food to make them sleekand improve their condition, and it is still also sold 'for medicinaland other purposes. ' Yet in other places it is called 'Devil's Food, 'because Satan is supposed to be perpetually watching over it and tojealously guard its magical properties. It is partly on this account, and partly because of its supposed effect in stimulating the passions, that the Arabs sometimes call the mandrake Tuphacel-sheitan, or Devil'sApple, although it is otherwise known as the Stone Apple. In many partsof Europe the mandrake is believed to possess, in common with some otherplants, the power of opening locks and unshoeing horses. 

The belief that the mandrake had some peculiar association with thedevil has made it a favourite plant with sorcerers and workers ofenchantment in all ages. Lord Bacon refers to it as a favourite in histime, 'whereof witches and impostors make an ugly image, giving it theform of a face at the top of the root, ' and leaving the natural threadsof the root 'to make a broad beard down to the foot. ' Mr. MoncureConway, however, says that the superstition rightly belonging to themandrake was often transferred to other roots--probably in ignorance asto the identity of the real plant. 

'Thus, ' he says, 'the author of Secrets du Petit Albert says that apeasant had a bryonia root of human shape, which he received from agipsy. He buried it at a lucky conjunction of the moon with Venus' (thereader will not fail to note the reference to the Goddess of Love) 'inspring, and on a Monday, in a grave, and then sprinkled it with milk inwhich three field-mice had been drowned. In a month it became morehumanlike than ever. Then he placed it in an oven with vervain, wrappedit afterwards in a dead man's shroud, and so long as he kept it he neverfailed in luck at games or work. '

Then we learn from the same author that a German horse-dealer, ofAugsburg, once lost a horse, and being poor, wandered in despair to aninn. There some men gave him a mandrake, and on his return home he founda bag of ducats on the table. His wife, however, did not like thebusiness, and persuaded the man to return to give back the root to thosefrom whom he got it. But he could not find the men again, and soon afterthe house was burned down, and both horse-dealer and wife perished. 

The only suggestion from this story is that the mandrake was supposed tobring 'devil's luck, ' although, if so, it is difficult to understand whythe _erdmanns_ were so carefully preserved from generation togeneration. One German writer, Rist, says that he has seen one more thana century old, which had been kept in a coffin, on which was a clothbearing a picture of a thief on the gallows and a mandrake growingunderneath. 

Coles, who wrote The Art of Simpling, in 1656, says the witches use themandrake-roots, 'according to some, or, as I rather suppose, the rootsof briony, which simple people take for the true mandrake, and makethereof an ugly image, by which they represent the person on whom theyintend to exercise their witchcraft. ' But their professions must attimes have been even larger, for it is on record that a witch wasexecuted near Orleans, in France, about 1605, who was charged withhaving kept a living mandrake-fiend, having the form of a female ape!

So much for the mandrake, of which, however, a good deal more might besaid. But what has been said serves to establish that it was identicalwith the mandragora, and with the mandragoras of the Greeks; that it wasprobably also the briony; that superstitions have attached to it in allcountries and from time immemorial, which ascribed to it occult virtues;that the powers it exercised varied a good deal according to localityand time, but that two main conceptions have almost universallyprevailed, viz. , that it was a stimulant, and a potent instrument inaffairs of the heart. 

What, then, is the Soma, or Homa, of the Hindu mythology--the ambrosiaof the Indian gods? It has been the subject of much discussion and somedifference among comparative mythologists. Soma was the chief deityamong the ancient Hindus--the author of life, the giver of health, theprotector of the weak, and the guide to immortality. Once he took uponhimself the form of man, but was slain by men and braised in a mortar. The similarity with the Christian legend is remarkable, and the methodof death should be borne in mind. After his death, Soma rose in flame toheaven, 'to be the benefactor of the world and the mediator between Godand man. '

One of the articles of faith with the Hindus, therefore, is that theymust hold communion with Soma, and they are taught thus to pray to him:'O Soma! thou art the strength of our heroes and the death of ourenemies, invincible in war! Fulfil our vows in battle, fight for us!None can resist thee; give us superiority! O Soma immortal! May we drinkto thee and be immortal like thee!' Mr. Baring-Gould says that the wholelegend of Soma is but the allegorical history of the plant _Sarcostemmaviminalis_, which is associated with passionate love 'because of theintoxicating liquor which is derived from its juice. It is regarded as agodsend. The way in which it is prepared is by crushing it in a mortar;the juice is then thrown on the sacrificial flame and so rises toheaven. ' The same writer tells us that a similar worship prevailed amongthe Iranians, who called the juice Homa, but they did not ferment it, and although they ascribed to it divine attributes, they did not makeHoma a supreme deity. But both with them and with the Hindus, 'thepartaking of the juice was regarded as a sacramental act, by virtue ofwhich the receiver was embued with a portion of the divine nature. '

Another writer, the author of Bible Folklore, says that the 'old Somawas the same as the Persian Homa, a brilliant god, who gives sons toheroes, and husbands to maidens. The juice of the plant, pounded in aniron mortar, is greenish in colour, and is strained through a cloth andmixed with the sap of a pomegranate branch; the yellow juice is thenstrained through a vessel with nine holes. Among the Parsees it isdrunk, not as by the Brahmins in large quantities by sixteen priests, but in small quantities by the two chief priests, and is thus notintoxicating. '

The symbol is confused with the deity, and 'Soma is at once thelife-giving spring of the juice of immortality, and the juice itself'--aconfusion not without analogy in some of the superstitions narrated ofthe mandrake. But of old Soma was drunk as mead was drunk by theScandinavians, before and after battle. It gave power and good fortuneas well as light and happiness, and when elevated into a god wassupposed to be the origin of all creation. 

Now, of the _Sarcostemma_ it is to be noted that it belongs to thefamily of _Asclepiadaceĉ_, which have all something more or less'fleshy' looking about some parts of them, which, like the _Apocyneĉ_, were in the old world credited with medicinal properties, and which aregenerally acrid, stimulating, and astringent. There are many poisonousmembers of the family, such as the dog's-bane and wolf's-bane of our owncountry, favourite plants with the enchanters, while the cowplant ofCeylon is of the same species. 

In Garrett's Dictionary of India it is stated that the Soma of the Vedasis no longer known in India, and the same statement is repeated by manywriters. It is certainly not indubitable that the _Sarcostemmaviminalis_ was the plant of wondrous virtues that was deified. On theother hand, we find that these ascribed virtues closely resemble thoseattributed to the mandrake, and it is known that the Aryan peoplereceived many of their ideas and superstitions from the old Jewishtribes. 

We have seen, further, that belief in the peculiar power of the mandrakein certain directions was a settled belief at a very early period of theJewish history, and we thus arrive at the very probable suggestion thatthe original Soma was neither more nor less than the mandrake of Reuben, the 'Baaras root' of Josephus, the mandragoras of the Greeks, the molyof Homer, the mandragora of Shakespeare, the mandragen of Germany, andthe mandrake, again, of England. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE SEA AND ITS LEGENDS. 

One of the oldest superstitions connected with the sea is undoubtedlythat which associated peril with the malefic influence of someindividual on shipboard. We find it in the case of the seamen of Joppa, who, when overtaken by a 'mighty tempest' on the voyage to Tarshish, said to each other, 'Come and let us cast lots, that we may know forwhose cause this evil is cast upon us. ' The lot, as we know, fell uponJonah, and after some vain wrestling with the inevitable, the men atlast 'took up Jonah and cast him forth into the sea, and the sea ceasedfrom her raging. '

Without offering here any comment on, or explanation of, the Scripturalnarrative, let us compare it with the following remarkable story, whichthat indefatigable delver after old-world wonders, Charles KirkpatrickSharpe, reproduced. 

Somewhere about midsummer of the year 1480, a ship, sailing out of theForth for a port in Holland, was assailed by a furious tempest, whichincreased to such a remarkable degree for the mild season of the year, that the sailors were overcome with fear, and gave themselves up forlost. At length an old woman, who was a passenger by the vessel, came ondeck and entreated them to throw her overboard as the only means ofpreserving their own lives, saying that she had long been haunted by an'incubus' in the shape of a man, from whose grasp she could not freeherself. Fortunately for all parties there was another passenger onboard--a priest--who was called to the rescue. After a long admonition, and many sighs and prayers, 'there issued forth of the pumpe of theship, ' says Hollinshed, 'a foul and evil-favoured blacke cloud, with amightie terrible noise, flame, smoke, and stinke, which presentlie fellinto the sea, and suddenlie, thereupon, the tempest ceassed, and theship passing in great quiet the residue of her journie, arrived insafetie at the place whither she was bound. '

There is doubtless some association between this class of superstitionand the old Talmudic legend, according to which the devils werespecially angered when, at the creation, man received dominion over thethings of the sea. This was a realm of unrest and tempest, which thedevils claimed as belonging to themselves. But, says the legend, although denied control of the life that is in the sea, the devils werepermitted a large degree of power over its waters, while over the windstheir rule was supreme. 

There is scarcely a current legend or superstition which cannot betraced to very remote sources. Thus, in the Chaldĉo-Babyloniancosmogony there was a Triad which ruled the three zones of theuniverse: the heaven, by Anu; the surface of the earth and theatmosphere, by Bel; and the under-world, by Nonah. Now, Nonah is held tobe both the same as the Assyrian Hea, or Saviour, and as the Noah of theBible. So when Tiamat, the dragon, or leviathan, opens 'the fountains ofthe great deep, ' and Anu, 'the windows of heaven, ' it is Hea, or Noah, who saves the life of man. 

This legend is supposed by M. François Lenormant to explain an allusionin one of the most ancient Accadian manuscripts in the British Museum to'the serpent of seven heads, that beats the sea. ' This Hydra was thetype of the destructive water-demon who figures in the legends of allcountries. 

In the same way, to the Syrian fish deities, Dagon and Artergatis, mustwe look for the origin of our Undines and fish-maidens, and mermaidens. 

The 'Nixy' of Germany has by some been supposed traceable to 'Old Nick';but this is not probable, since St. Nicholas has been the patron-saintof sailors for many centuries. It was during the time of the Crusadesthat a vessel on the way to the Holy Land was in great peril, and St. Nicholas assuaged a tempest by his prayers. Since then he has beensupposed to be the protector of mariners, even as Neptune was in ancienttimes; and in most Roman Catholic countries you will find in seaporttowns churches dedicated to St. Nicholas, to which sailors resort toreturn thanks for preservation at sea, and to make votive offerings. 

The German Nixy was, no doubt, a later form of the old Norse water-godNikke. You meet with him again, in another form, in Neckan, thesoulless, of whom Matthew Arnold sings:

 'In summer on the headlands The Baltic sea along Sits Neckan with his harp of gold, And sings his plaintive song. '

The 'Nixa' along the Baltic coast was once, however, much feared by thefishermen. It was the same spirit which appears as the Kelpie inScotland--a water-demon which caused sudden floods to carry away theunwary, and then devoured them. 

There was a river-goddess in Germany, whose temple stood at Magdeburg, of whom a legend exists that she also once visited earth and went tomarket in a Christian costume, where she was detected by a continualdripping of water from the corner of her apron. Generally speaking, however, the Nixies may be described as the descendants of the Naiads ofancient times, and as somewhat resembling the Russian Rusalkas, of whichthe peasantry live in much dread. 

A Russian peasant, it is said, is so afraid of the water-spirits that hewill not bathe without a cross round his neck, nor ford a stream onhorseback without signing a cross on the water with a scythe or knife. In some parts these water-spirits are supposed to be the transformedsouls of Pharaoh and his host, when they were drowned, and the number isalways being increased by the souls of those who drown themselves. 

It is said that 'in Bohemia' fishermen have been known to refuse aid todrowning persons lest 'Vodyany' would be offended and prevent the fishfrom entering the nets. 

This 'Vodyany, ' however, seems rather a variant of the old Hydra, whoreappears in the diabolical names so frequently given to boiling springsand dangerous torrents. The 'Devil's Tea-kettles' and 'Devil'sPunch-bowls' of England and America have the same association as theweird legends connected with the Strudel and Wirbel whirlpools of theDanube, and with the rapids of the Rhine, and other rivers. Curiouslyenough, we find the same idea in The Arabian Nights, when 'The seabecame troubled before them, and there arose from it a black pillarascending towards the sky, and approaching the meadow, and behold it wasa Jinn of gigantic stature. '

This demon was a waterspout, and waterspouts in China are attributed tothe battles of dragons. 'The Chinese, ' says Mr. Moncure Conway, 'havecanonised of recent times a special protectress against the storm-demonsof the coast, in obedience to the wishes of the sailors. '

The swan-maidens, who figure in so many legends, are mere varieties ofthe mer-maiden, and, according to the Icelandic superstition, they andall fairies were children of Eve, whom she hid away on one occasion whenthe Lord came to visit her, because they were not washed andpresentable! They were, therefore, condemned to be invisible for ever. 

A Scotch story, quoted by Mr. Moncure Conway, rather bears against thistheory. One day, it seems, as a fisherman sat reading his Bible, abeautiful nymph, lightly clad in green, came to him out of the sea, andasked if the book contained any promise of mercy for her. He repliedthat it contained an offer of salvation to 'all the children of Adam, 'whereupon she fled away with a loud shriek, and disappeared in the sea. But the beautiful stories of water-nymphs, of Undines and Loreleis, andmer-women, are too numerous to be even mentioned, and too beautiful, inmany cases, to make one care to analyze. 

There is a tradition in Holland that when, in 1440, the dikes werebroken down by a violent tempest, the sea overflowed the meadows. Somewomen of the town of Edam, going one day in a boat to milk their cows, discovered a mermaid in shallow water floundering about with her tail inthe mud. They took her into the boat, brought her to Edam, dressed herin women's clothes, and taught her to spin, and to eat as they did. Theyeven taught her something of religion, or, at any rate, to bowreverently when she passed a crucifix; but they could not teach her tospeak. What was the ultimate fate of this remarkable creature is notdisclosed. 

Everybody, of course, is familiar with the old sea-legend of the _FlyingDutchman_, whether in stories of phantom ships, or in the opera ofWagner. The spirit of Vanderdecken, which is still supposed to roam thewaters, is merely the modern version of our old friend, Nikke, theNorwegian water-demon. This is a deathless legend, and used to be asdevoutedly believed in as the existence of Mother Carey, sitting away upin the north, despatching her 'chickens' in all directions to workdestruction for poor Jack. But Mother Carey really turns out on inquiryto be a most estimable being, as we shall presently see. 

'Sailors, ' says Brand, in his Popular Antiquities, 'usually the boldestMen alive, are yet frequently the very abject slaves of superstitiousFear. They have various puerile Apprehensions concerning Whistling onShipboard, carrying a Corpse, etc. , all which are Vestiges of the oldWoman in human Nature, and can only be erased by the united Efforts ofPhilosophy and Religion. '

It is to be regretted, however, that the good Brand did not devote asmuch attention to the superstitions of sailors as he did to those ofsome other folks. 

As is the case with almost all folk-lore, little variety is to be foundin the sea superstitions of different nations. The ideas of thesupernatural on shipboard are pretty much the same, whether the flagflown be the Union Jack, the German Eagle, the French Tricolor, theAmerican Stars and Stripes, or even the Chinese Dragon. Thesesuperstitions are numerous, and are tenaciously preserved, but yet itwould not be fair to say that seamen are, as a class, more superstitiousthan landsmen of their own rank. The great mystery of the sea; theuncertainty of life upon its bosom; the isolation and frequentloneliness; the wonder of the storms, and calms, and lights--everythingconnected with a sailor's occupation is calculated to impress him withthe significance of signs and omens. 

That mariners do not like to have a corpse on board is not remarkable, for many people ashore get rather 'creepy' if they have to sleep in ahouse where lies a dead body. Moreover, the old idea of bad luck whichled to the throwing overboard of Jonah, is in this case transferred fromthe living to the dead. The objection to whistling is also explainableby the time-honoured practice of 'whistling for a wind, ' for aninjudicious whistler might easily bring down a blow from the wrongquarter. 

There are some animals and birds which have a peculiar significance atsea. The cat, for instance, is generally disliked, and many sailors willnot have one on board at any price. If there is one which becomesunusually frisky, they will say the cat has got a gale of wind in hertail. On one part of the Yorkshire coast, it is said, sailors' wiveswere in the habit of keeping black cats to insure the safety of theirhusbands at sea, until black cats became so scarce and dear that fewcould afford to buy one. Although Jack does not like a cat in the ship, he will not throw one overboard, for that would bring on a storm. 

Miss L. A. Smith, in her book about the Music of the Waters, states thata dead hare on a ship is considered a sign of an approaching hurricane;and Cornish fishermen declare that a white hare seen about the quays atnight indicates that there will be rough weather. 

The pig is an object of aversion to Japanese seamen, and also to Fileyfishermen, who will not go to sea if they meet one in the early morning. But, indeed, the pig seems to be generally disliked by allseafarers--except in the form of salt pork and bacon. 

Rats, however, are not objected to; indeed, it would be useless toobject, for they overrun all ships. And rats are supposed to leave avessel only when it is going to sink. A Welsh skipper, however, oncecleared his ship of them without the risk of a watery grave, by drawingher up to a cheese-laden ship in harbour. He quietly moored alongside, and, having left the hatches open all night, cast off with a chuckle inthe morning, leaving a liberal legacy to his neighbour. 

The stormy petrel is supposed to herald bad weather, and the great aukto tell that land is very near. This is true enough as regards the auk, which never ventures beyond soundings; but one doubts the truth of thepopular belief that when the sea-gulls hover near the shore, a storm isat hand. The Scotch rhyme runs:

 'Seagull, seagull, sit on the sand; It's never good weather when you're on the land!'

Mr. Thiselton-Dyer quotes from Sinclair's Statistical Account ofScotland, in confirmation of this belief, that in the county of Forfar, 'when they appear in the fields, a storm from the southeast generallyfollows; and when the storm begins to abate, they fly back to theshore. ' This does not accord with the present writer's experience of thewest coast of Scotland, where the sea-gulls frequent the lochs andhillsides far inland all the summer. Naturally there are stormssometimes after their appearance, but just as often fine weathercontinues. As well say that the flocks of these beautiful birds thatfollow in the wake of a tourist steamer, to pick up unconsideredtrifles, presage sea-sickness to the passengers!

One has heard that in Cornwall sailors will not walk at night alongportions of the shore where there have been many wrecks, because theybelieve that the souls of the drowned haunt such localities, and thatthe 'calling of the dead' is frequently audible. Some even say that theyhave heard the voices of dead sailors hailing them by name. One canreadily excuse a timorousness in Jack in such circumstances. Manypersons besides sailors shrink from localities which have been thescenes of murder or sudden death. 

Friday is the sailor's pet aversion, as an unlucky day on which to sailor begin work. But this is not surprising, when we remember that Fridayhas everywhere more superstition and folk-lore attached to it than anyother day in the week, originating, perhaps, as Mr. Thiselton-Dyersuggests, from the fact that it was the day on which Christ wascrucified. Lord Byron had the superstitious aversion to Friday; and evenamong the Brahmins no business must be commenced on this day. InLancashire a man will not 'go a-courting on Friday'; and Brand says: 'Arespectable merchant of the city of London informed me that no personwill begin any business, that is, open his shop for the first time, on aFriday. ' The 'respectable merchant' might be hard to find nowadays, butstill one does not need to go to sailors to find a prejudice againstFriday. 

Other things which are accounted unlucky by superstitious seamen are: tosneeze on the left side at the moment of embarking; to count the men onboard; to ask fishermen, before they start, where they are bound for; topoint with the finger to a ship when at sea; to lose a mop orwater-bucket; to cut the hair or nails at sea, except during a storm. 

These are a few of the sea superstitions as preserved in rhyme:

 'The evening gray, and the morning red, Put on your hat or you'll wet your head. '

(Meaning that it will rain. )

 'When the wind shifts against the sun, Trust it not, for it will run. '

(That is, soon change again. )

 'When the sun sets in the clear, An easterly wind you need not fear. 

 'The evening red and morning gray Are sure signs of a fine day. '

(A distich not peculiar to followers of the sea. )

 'But the evening gray and morning red Makes the sailor shake his head. '

This refers to the barometer:

 'First rise, after low, Indicates a stronger blow. '

And this:

 'Long foretold, long last; Short notice, soon past. '

These, however, are hardly superstitions, but maxims based onexperience. Of the same character are the following:

 'In squalls When the rain's before the wind Halyards, sheets, and braces mind. '

Also, 'When the wind's before the rain Soon you may make sail again. '

And

 'When the glass falls low, Prepare for a blow; When it rises high, Let all your kites fly. 

 'A rainbow in the morning, Sailors take warning; A rainbow at night Is the sailor's delight. '

The Manx fishermen have some curious sayings about herrings. Thus thecommon expression, 'As dead as a herring, ' is due to them. They sayalso, 'Every herring must hang by its own gills'; and their favouritetoast is, 'Life to man and death to fish. ' They count one hundred andtwenty-four fish to the hundred, thus: they first sort out lots of onehundred and twenty, then add three to each lot, which is called 'warp, 'and then a single herring, which is called 'tally. ' Before shooting thenets at sea, every man goes down on his knees at a sign from the skipperof the boat, and, with his head uncovered, prays for a blessing on thefishing. This, at least, used to be the general practice, but in howprevailing at the present day is doubtful. 

The sound of the death-bell is often supposed to be heard at sea beforea wreck, and this idea may be either associated with the bell-buoy whichmarks many sunken, dangerous rocks, or with the religious ceremonies ofthe old days. 

At Malta it is, or was, usual to ring the church bells for an hourduring a storm 'that the wind may cease and the sea be calmed, ' and thesame custom prevails both in Sicily and Sardinia. 

A Cornish legend of the bells of a church, which were sent by ship thatwas lost in sight of the town, owing to the blasphemy of the captain, says that the bells are supposed to be in the bay, and they announce bystrange sounds the approach of a storm. 

There is a suggestion of Sir Ralph the Rover in this legend; but, indeed, the superstitions of those connected with the sea are sointerwoven, that it is not easy to disentangle them, and they arenumerous enough to need a book to themselves. No doubt our marinersderived many of them from the old Spanish navigators who once swayed themain, for the Spaniards are one of the most superstitious peoples in theworld. 

CHAPTER VII. 

MOTHER CAREY AND HER CHICKENS. 

Who was Mother Carey the appearance of whose 'chickens' is supposed bythe mariner to foretell a coming storm? This question is often asked, but seldom answered, and so a little light on the subject is desirable. 

Charles Kingsley gives a very vivid picture of her. In his charming bookabout The Water-Babies, he tells how little Tom, in search of his oldmaster, Grimes, is instructed to find his way to Peacepool and MotherCarey's Haven, where the good whales go when they die. On his way hemeets a flock of petrels, who invite him to go with them, saying: 'Weare Mother Carey's own chickens, and she sends us out over all the seasto show the good birds the way home. ' So he comes to Peacepool at last, which is miles and miles across; and there the air is clear andtransparent, and the water calm and lovely; and there the good whalesrest in happy sleep upon the slumbering sea. 

In the midst of Peacepool was one large peaked iceberg. 'When Tom camenear it, it took the form of the grandest old lady he had ever seen--awhite marble lady, sitting on a white marble throne. And from the footof the throne there swam away, out and in, and into the sea, millions ofnew-born creatures, of more shapes and colours than man ever dreamed. And they were Mother Carey's chickens, whom she makes out of thesea-water all the day long. '

Now, this beautiful fancy of Kingsley's--and how beautiful it is canonly be realized by a reading of the whole story--is based upon fact, asall beautiful fancies must be. 

The fundamental idea of Kingsley's picture is that of a fruitful andbeneficent mother. And Mother Carey is just the Mater Cara of themedieval sailors. Our Mother Carey's chickens are the 'Birds of the HolyVirgin, ' of the South of Europe, the 'Oiseaux de Nôtre Dame' of theFrench seamen. 

One reason for associating the petrel with the Holy Mother may possiblyhave been found in its supposed sleeplessness. The bird was believednever to rest, to hatch its eggs under its wings, and to be incessantlyflying to and fro on the face of the waters on messages of warning tomariners. Even to this day sailors believe that the albatross, thearistocratic relative of the petrel, sleeps on the wing; and the powerof the albatross, for good and evil, readers of the Ancient Mariner willremember. We say for good and evil, because opinion fluctuated. Thus:

 'At length did cross an albatross, Through the fog it came; As if it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. '

When the mariner with his crossbow did shoot the albatross, the crewsaid:

 'I had done a hellish thing, And it would work them woe; For all averred I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. "Ah, wretch!" said they, "the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow!"'

And once more, when the weather cleared, they changed:

 'Then all averred I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist; "'Twas right, " said they, "such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist!"'

Coleridge got his idea from Wordsworth, who got it from a passage inShelvocke's voyages, where a long spell of bad weather was attributed toan albatross following the ship. 

The poet who sang, 'Oh, stormy, stormy peterel! Thou art a bird of woe, Yet would I thou could'st tell me half Of the misery thou dost know!'

has, however, misunderstood the feeling with which that little harbingeris regarded. So have many other persons. The petrel is not a bird ofwoe, but a bird of warning. 

The Virgin Mary--Mater Cara--was the special protectress of the earlyChristian seamen, just as Amphitrite had been the tutelary genius ofhis Greek, and Venus of his Roman, progenitors, and just as Isis, themoon goddess, had been the patroness of the Egyptian navigators. TheCatholic mariner still believes that the Virgin has especial power overthe winds and the sea. 

At Marseilles is the shrine of the Nôtre Dame de la Garde, greatlyvenerated by all the Provençal sailors; at Caen is the shrine of NôtreDame de Deliverance; at Havre, that of Nôtre Dame des Neiges. Brandtells, in his book of Antiquities, that on Good Friday Catholic mariners'cock-bill' their yards in mourning and hang and scourge an effigy ofJudas Iscariot. The practice still continues, and as recently as 1881 aLondon newspaper contained an account of the ceremony performed on boardseveral Portuguese vessels in the London Docks. The proceedings alwaysclosed with a Hymn to the Virgin Mary. 

In Rome, at the Church of Santa Maria della Navicella, there is a smallmarble ship which was offered by Pope Leo the Tenth in execution of avow after his escape from shipwreck. The first thing done by Magellanand his crew after their safe return to Seville was to perform penancebarefooted, clad only in their shirts, and bearing lighted tapers intheir hands, at the shrine of Our Lady of Victory. And it is related ofColumbus, that on safe arrival after a storm at the Azores, 'The Admiraland all the crew, bearing in remembrance the vow which they had made theThursday before, to go barefooted, and in their shirts, to some churchof Our Lady at the first land, were of opinion that they ought todischarge this vow. They accordingly landed, and proceeded, according totheir vow, barefooted, and in their shirts, toward the hermitage. '

Countless instances might be cited, but these will suffice to show theestimation in which Mater Cara was held by Catholic seamen. 

How it came to be supposed that the smaller _Procellariĉ_ are onlyvisible before a storm is not very apparent. In point of fact, there isno more reason for associating the petrel specially with storms thanthere is for the belief expressed in the old Scotch couplet quoted inthe last chapter:

 'Seagull, seagull, sit in the sand; It's never good weather when you're on the land!'

As a matter of fact, seagulls do fly far inland in fine weather, andespecially during ploughing-time. And also, as a matter of fact, thepetrel lives at sea both in fine weather and foul, because he isuncomfortable on land. It is only the breeding season that he spends onshore; while the seagull is just as much at home on the land as on thesea. 

The scientific name of the petrel tribe is _Procellariĉ_, from the Latin_procella_--a storm. It is a large family, all the members of which aredistinguished by a peculiar tube-like arrangement of the nostrils. Theirfeet, also, are peculiar in being without any back toe, so that they canonly with great difficulty rise on the wing from dry land. 

Mother Carey's chickens are among the smaller species of this family, and they have both a shorter bill and a longer leg than their relatives. But all the _Procellariĉ_ are noted for ranging further from land thanany other of the sea-birds. Thus they are often visible from ship-boardwhen no other animal life can be sighted; and thus it was, doubtless, that their appearance suggested safe harbour, and consequent thanks toMater Cara, to the devout seaman. 

Why the petrels are associated with storms is thus not easily explained, seeing that they are abroad in all weathers; but a feasible suggestionwas advanced by Pennant. It is that they gather from the watersea-animals which are most abundant before or after a storm, when thesea is in a state of unusual commotion. All birds are highly sensitiveto atmospheric changes, and all sea-birds seem to develop extra activityin threatening and 'dirty' weather. 

There is another interesting thing about Mother Carey's chicken, andthat is, that he is also called petrel, from the Italian 'Petrello, ' orLittle Peter. This is because he is supposed to be able, like theapostle, to walk on the water, and as in fact he does after a fashion, with the aid of his wings. 

Now, St. Peter, both as a fisherman and for his sea-walking, was alwaysa favourite saint with sailors, and was often invoked during storms. Hewas the patron saint of Cortez, as he was also of the Thames watermen. There is an old legend that St. Peter went on board a fisherman's boatsomewhere about the Nore, and that it carried him, without sails oroars, to the very spot which he selected as the site for WestminsterAbbey. 

In the Russian ports of the Baltic there is firm belief in a species ofwater-spirits called Rusalkas, who raise storms and cause much damage tothe shipping. The great anniversary of these storm-spirits is St. Peter's Day. The John Dory is St. Peter's fish, and it is said that thespots on each side of its mouth are the marks of the apostle's thumb andforefinger. It was called 'janitore, ' or doorkeeper, because in itsmouth was found the penny with which the temple-tax was paid. Now, St. Peter also was the doorkeeper of heaven, and from janitore to John Dorywas an easy transition. 

With fishermen, as was natural, St. Peter was held in high honour; andin Cornwall and Yorkshire, until recently, it was customary to lightbonfires, and to hold other ceremonies, on St. Peter's Day, to signalizethe opening of the fishing season, and to bespeak luck. An old writersays of these customs at Guisboro', in Yorkshire, that:

'The fishermen, on St. Peter's daye, invited their friends and kinfolkto a festivall kept after their fashion, with a free hearte, and no showof niggardnesse. That day their boats are dressed curiously for theshowe, their masts are painted, and certain rytes observed amongst themwith sprinkling their bows with good liquor, which custome orsuperstition, sucked from their ancestors, even continueth down untothis present tyme. '

Perhaps at 'this present tyme' the ceremonies are not so elaborate; butsurvivals of the 'custome or superstition' are to be found yet in ourfishing villages. 

It is probable that the observers of St. Peter's Day do not know theorigin of their curious customs. It is certain that sailors, as a class, do not now know why their favourite little bird is called petrel. Wehave tried to remove the stigma which in modern times has come to restupon Mother Carey's chickens. Let us no longer do them wrong bysupposing that they are always the harbingers of woe. They have a busyand a useful life, and it is one, as we have seen, with tender, evensacred, associations. 

It may be recalled as an interesting, although not an agreeable item, that in the days of the French Revolution there was a notorious brood ofMother Carey's chickens in Paris. They were the female rag-tag-and-bobtailof the city, whose appearance in the streets was understood to forebodea fresh political tumult. What an insult to our feathered friends tobestow their honoured name on such human fiends!

The real Mother Carey is she who appeared to Tom and Ella in Peacepool, after they had learned a few things about themselves and the world. Theyheard her voice calling to them, and they looked, crying:

'"Oh, who are you, after all? You are our dear Mrs. Do-as-you-would-be-done-by. "

'"No, you are good Mrs. Be-done-by-as-you-did; but you are grown quitebeautiful now!"

'"To you, " said the Fairy; "but look again. "

'"You are Mother Carey, " said Tom, in a very low, solemn voice, for hehad found out something which made him very happy, and yet frightenedhim more than all that he had ever seen. 

'"But you are grown quite young again. "

'"To you, " said the Fairy; "but look again. "

'"You are the Irishwoman who met me the day I went to Harthover!"

'And when they looked again she was neither of them, and yet all of themat once. 

'"My name is written in my eyes, if you have eyes to see it there. "

'And they looked into her great, deep soft eyes, and they changed againand again into every hue, as the light changes in a diamond. 

'"Now read my name, " said she at last, and her eyes flashed for onemoment, clear, white, blazing light; but the children could not read hername, for they were dazzled, and hid their faces in their hands. 

'They were only water-babies, and just beginning to learn the meaning oflove. '

CHAPTER VIII. 

DAVY JONES'S LOCKER. 

This expression of what may be called nautical slang has now becomealmost classic. At all events, everybody knows it; and most people maybe presumed to know that to 'go to Davy Jones's Locker' is equivalent to'losing the number of your mess, ' or, as the Californian miners say, 'passing in your checks. ' Being especially a sea-phrase, it means, ofcourse, to be drowned. But how did the phrase originate? And who wasDavy Jones? These questions must have frequently occurred to many, andit is worth while seeking an answer to them. There is an explanation foreverything, if one only knows how to look for it. 

This saying about Davy Jones is a very old one--so old, that it cannotpossibly have any reference to the famous Paul Jones. In fact, one hearsvery often of 'Davy's Locker' without any reference to 'Jones' at all. Then 'Davy, ' again, is a vulgar slang expression for affidavit, but itis also used in thief-parlance by way of an oath. 'So help me Davy!' isthe slang equivalent for the concluding sentence of the oathadministered in the police-courts with which these gentry are familiar. It has thus been inferred that 'Davy' is a slang expression of somewhatblasphemous import; but this is by no means certain. 

It is much more likely to be associated with, or to have the same originas, the 'Duffy' of the West Indian negroes. Among them Duffy means aghost; and in the vocabulary of the gutter it may easily have been takenas the equivalent of soul. The transition from Duffy to Davy is by nomeans difficult. 

But how, then, did the vagabond users of 'flash' language get hold ofthis word? It is probable enough that it was brought home by the sailorsfrom the West Indies, and picked up at the docks by the waifs and straysof our vast vagrant population. On the other hand, it is just as likelythat the West Indian negroes picked up 'Duffy' from our own sailors; andthat, in fact, Duffy is just the nigger contraction of Davy Jones. Thereis certainly a very close connection, both in sound and meaning, betweenthe two expressions. 

We must go further back and further away, however, to get to the root ofthis matter. And, if we inquire diligently, we shall find our Davy inthe Deva of the Indian mythology. The original Sanskrit meaning of Devawas 'The Shining One, ' but in the operation of what has been called 'thedegradation of Deities' in the Oriental religions, it became synonymouswith our devil. In fact, we owe the word 'devil' to this same Sanskritroot; and it is noteworthy that while Deva meant the Good Spirit to theBrahmans, it meant the Evil Spirit to the Parsees. In this root we mayalso find the explanation of the gipsy word for God, which, curiouslyenough, is Devel. 

While it is easy to trace the transition from Deva to the sailor's Davy, one may note another curious thing. The name of the fabulous Welshman, Taffy, the thief, is a corruption of Dyved, which, as signifying an evilspirit, is the Cymric form of Deva. This would almost suggest that theaddition of the apparent surname, Jones, was a Welsh performance. Butthis is only an amusing conjecture, not without a certain aptness. 

For the origin of Jones we must look to Jonah, who in nautical historyis regarded as the embodiment of malevolence at sea. The prophet Jonahis not the only one who has been committed to the deep to appease thestorm-fiends, whose anger his presence was supposed to have aroused. Itis easy to account for this from the Bible narrative. 'The mariners wereafraid, and cried every man unto his God. And they said, every one tohis fellow, "Come, and let us cast lots, that we may know for whosecause this evil is upon us. " So they cast lots, and the lot fell uponJonah. So they took up Jonah and cast him forth into the sea, and thesea ceased from her raging. '

The superstition of sailors is proverbial, and to this day they believein good or ill luck being brought to a vessel by persons and things. Inolden times there were many sacrifices to this Jonah superstition; andeven in comparatively recent times, Holcroft, the actor, on a voyage toScotland, narrowly escaped a watery grave, because the men took him for'the Jonas. ' And to this day 'He's a Jonah' is an expression oftenenough heard on ship-board applied to some unwelcome passenger. 

Here, then, we have the Sanskrit origin of Davy, and the Biblical originof Jones, both words embodying much the same idea to the mind of theprimitive seamen. 

But what of the 'locker'?

This, of course, is a familiar piece of ship-furniture which it was notdifficult to transfer to the mythical demon of the deep. LieutenantBassett thought that the locker might be the whale's belly in whichJonah found refuge; but this is hardly in harmony with the meaning ofthe phrase. In the sense in which it is thus used, locker does not meana temporary resting-place or submarine harbour of refuge, but a place offinal deposit. It is possible, indeed, to find the origin of the wordlocker as here applied in Loki, the personification of evil in theScandinavian mythology. Loki, like Deva, was not always an evil spirit, but he became eventually identified with Satan. He became a flame-demon, a sort of incarnate spirit of fire. 

There is good reason for believing in this theory of the Scandinavianorigin of the word 'locker' as used in the connection we areconsidering. It is to be remembered that, in olden times, death bydrowning was even more dreaded than now, because drowned bodies weresupposed to be debarred from the Resurrection. Going far back, we findthat the sea was the abode of Typhoeus, who, besides being ahurricane-raising, was also a fire-breathing, demon, and was feared asthe quencher of the sun, who sank at night into his bosom. The legend ofSt. Brandan and his burning islands preserved the idea that Hades wasvery near to the bottom of the ocean. Thus, then, we may readilyperceive the conception of Loki having his receptacle for drownedmariners in the bed of the sea. A belief prevailed long into the MiddleAges that the sea-bottom was the abode of many demons, who lay in waitfor passengers, to drag them down to the infernal depths. 

Thus, then, Davy Jones's Locker became, by a mixture of theogonies, 'theocean, the deep sea-bottom, the place to which the body was committed, and to which the souls of the wicked fled. '

This meaning is now somewhat modified. Sailors do not, as Smollett saysthey did in his day, regard Davy Jones as the fiend who presides overall the evil spirits of the deep, and who is seen in various shapes, warning the devoted wretches of death and woe. In fact, it is not DavyJones they think of at all now, but his Locker; for to go to Davy'sLocker is to be lost at sea and to find a watery grave. 

There is, however, a curious survival of the personal element still tobe traced in some of the sailors' chanties. Take, for instance, thatremarkable one about 'Burying the Dead Horse, ' which still puzzles thepassengers on board the packets sailing to the Antipodes. Without goinginto the question of the song and its attendant ceremonies just now, the following lines may be quoted as bearing on our subject:

 'You poor old horse, what brought you here, After carrying turf for many a year? From Bantry Bay to Ballyack, When you fell down and broke your back? You died from blows and sore abuse, And were salted down for the sailors' use. The sailors they the meat despise; They turned you over and ---- your eyes; They ate the meat and picked the bones, And gave the rest to Davy Jones. '

All the offal of a ship is thrown over to Davy Jones--doubtless becausethere is nothing else to be done with it. 

The favourite demon, if one may use the expression, of British sailorsis now Old Nick, and one may trace his origin even more easily than thatof Davy Jones. We can follow him through Saxon, German, Danish andNorwegian transitions to one of the names of Odin--Hnickar--for evenAll-father Odin shared the fate of his Oriental predecessors, and becamedemonized. Others, again, have carried the name Hnickar back stillfurther to the Egyptian Nika, the serpent of the lower world, 'theTyphonic enemy of the Sun in his night-journey. '

It is to the same root that we owe the Necken of the Baltic, and theNixies--the water-fays--of the German legends. It is to the NorwegianNökke, also, that we owe the Wild Huntsman of the Sea, on which thestory of the _Flying Dutchman_ and a host of other legends of demonvessels and demon mariners are founded. 

There is, however, some confusion in the nautical mythology between theoriginal Old Nick and the popular Saint Nicholas. This saint became theChristian successor of Neptune, as the protector of seamen. 'Thissaintly Poseidon, ' says Mr. Conway, 'the patron of fishermen, in timebecame associated with the demon whom the British sailor feared if hefeared nothing else. He was also of old the patron of pirates; androbbers were called "St. Nicholas' clerks. "'

It is certainly one of the curiosities of plutology that the patronsaint of children who is still honoured at Christmas as Santa Clausshould be the same as the dreaded Old Nick of the seafarers. 

These investigations are extremely interesting, and may lead us far; butour present purpose is merely to find an explanation of a popularphrase. 

It is more difficult to explain a number of other marine personalities, who are as lively to-day on shipboard as they were generations ago. There is, for instance, old Mister Storm-Along, of whom the chanty-mansings:

 'When Stormy died, I dug his grave-- I dug his grave with a silver spade; I hove him up with an iron crane, And lowered him down with a golden chain. '

Who was he? And who was the famous Captain Cottington, of whom it isrelated, in stentorian tones and with tireless repetition, that:

 'Captain Cottington, he went to sea, Captain Cottington, he went to sea-e-e-e, Captain Cottington, he went to sea, Captain Cottington, he went to sea-e!'

Who, also, was 'Uncle Peleg, ' of whom a somewhat similarly exhaustivehistory is chanted? And, still more, who was the mysterious ReubenRanzo, with whose name every fo'cs'le of every outward-bound British orAmerican ship is constantly resounding?

 'Pity Reuben Ranzo-- Ranzo, boys, a Ranzo! Oh, pity Reuben Ranzo-- Ranzo, boys, a Ranzo!'

He had a remarkable career, this Reuben, according to the song. He was atailor by trade; went to school on the Monday, learnt to read onTuesday, and by Friday he had thrashed the master. Then he went to sea, and, after some ignominious experiences, married the captain's daughter, and became himself the captain of a whaler. But who was he? And how doeshe come to exercise such a fascination over all mariners, even unto thisday?

This is one of the mysteries of the ocean. The sea is covered withmystery, and with phantom shapes. Every ship that sails is peopled witha crew of dim shadows of the past that none can explain. 

CHAPTER IX. 

SOME FLOWERS OF FANCY. 

That the lily should symbolize purity seems appropriate enough, but whyshould parsley in olden times have been associated with death? It isrecorded that a few bundles of parsley once threw a whole Greek armyinto panic, because in Greece the tombs of the dead were strewn with theherb. With them 'to be in need of parsley' was equivalent to beingbeyond hope. 

The name itself offers little explanation of this superstition, for itis derived from the Latin _petroselinum_, which, again, was taken fromthe Greek name signifying the 'plant of the rocks. ' According to themyth, however, it sprang from the blood of Archemorus, or Orpheltes, theson of Lycurgus, King of Nemĉa. Archemorus was killed by a serpent whilehis foster-mother was showing the soldiers of Adrastus where they mightfind a fountain. On the place where he died there sprang up the parsley, which the Greeks, in grief for his loss, wove into chaplets for thevictors at the Nemĉan games. At these games it was always customary todeliver a funeral oration in memory of Archemorus, while theparticipators were dressed in mourning. Hence the association of parsleywith death among the Greeks, and the long-prevailing Western belief thatthe plant is 'unlucky, ' is only another instance of the marvellouslongevity of superstitions. 

It is said by Mr. Thiselton-Dyer that in Devonshire to transplantparsley is accounted a serious offence against the tutelary spirit ofthe herb, and is certain to be punished within the year by some greatmisfortune. In South Hampshire the country people will never giveparsley away, for fear of trouble; and in Suffolk it is believed that ifit be sown on any other day than Good Friday it will not grow double. The _Folklore Record_, some years ago, gave the case of a gentleman nearSouthampton whose gardener refused to sow some parsley-seed whenordered, because 'it would be a bad day's work' for him to do so; themost he would do was to bring a plant or two, and throw them down forthe master to pick up if he chose. To give them, however, the manregarded as fatal. 

But even to move parsley is regarded in some places to be unlucky, andwe have heard of a parish clerk in Devonshire who was bedridden, and whowas popularly supposed to owe his trouble to having moved someparsley-beds. There is a similar superstition in Germany, and manyreaders have probably often come across an old saying, that 'Parsleyfried will bring a man to his saddle and a woman to her grave. ' Theallusion to the saddle is obscure; but it is obvious that all thesuperstitious dread of parsley is a survival of the old Greek fableimmortalized in the Nemĉan games. 

That the rose should be associated with death may appear strange tosome, yet so it was. The Greeks certainly used the rose in their funeralrites and for the decoration of their tombs. The Romans used it forsimilar purposes, and often bequeathed legacies for the express purposeof keeping their tombs adorned with the flower. Whether it was by themthat the practice was introduced into England is not capable of directproof, but it is worthy of note that at Ockley, a place where the Romanswere often located in large numbers, it was a custom of comparativelyrecent experience for girls to plant roses upon the graves of their deadlovers. Hence, no doubt, its origin in Gay's riddle:

 'What flower is that which royal honour craves, Adjoins the Virgin, and 'tis strewn on graves?'

The answer is 'Rosemary, ' which, although sometimes understood to meanthe Rose of the Virgin Mary, is neither a rose, nor is it in any specialway associated with the Virgin. 

On the other hand, the rose is associated by most Catholics with theMother of the Saviour, and in Italy especially, during the celebrationsof May, the rose is abundantly used. By some it has been thought thatthe early association of the rose with death led to the expression'under the rose, ' applied to anything to be done in secret or silence. Others, again, have ascribed the origin of that expression to theperfect beauty of the flower, which, as language is unable to portrayit, may be a symbol of silence. Sir Thomas Browne, however, says theorigin was either in the old custom of wearing chaplets of roses duringthe 'Symposiack meetings, ' or else because the rose was the flower ofVenus, 'which Cupid consecrated unto Harpocrates, the god of silence. 'There is a basis of probability in both theories, and all know that therose was peculiarly the property of the Goddess of Love. Indeed, according to the old fable, the flower was originally white until dyedby the blood which flowed from the foot of Venus, pierced by a thorn asshe ran to the aid of her loved Adonis. Hence Spenser says:

 'White as the native rose, before the change Which Venus's blood did in her leaves impress. '

According to others, however, it was the blood of Adonis which dyed theflower. Thus Bion, in his Lament: 'A tear the Paphian sheds for eachblood-drop of Adonis, and tears and blood on the earth are turned toflowers. The blood brings forth the rose, and the tears the wind-flower. Woe, woe, for Adonis! he hath perished, the lovely Adonis!' Thistradition is preserved in the German name, _Adonis-blume_, which, however, is usually applied to the anemone. 

The rose being the emblem of love, and love having a natural abhorrenceof publicity, it is not difficult to conceive the connection withsilence. It is said that the Romans used to place a decoration of rosesin the centre of their dining-rooms, as a hint to the guests that allthat was said at the banqueting-table was in the nature of 'privilegedcommunications, ' and in old Germany a similar custom long prevailed. Inthe sixteenth century a rose was placed over confessionals, and theinference is that the hint was then well understood. 

There was also an obvious meaning in the adoption by the Jacobites ofthis flower as the emblem of the Pretender, to whose service they weresecretly sworn. It was the white rose that was especially affected bythe Stuarts, and the Pretender's birthday, the 10th of June, was forlong known as 'White Rose Day, ' much as 'Primrose Day' is now definitelyassociated with the late Lord Beaconsfield. The story of the Wars of theRoses is, of course, known to everybody, and how, in consequence ofthese feuds, the rose became the emblem of England, as the thistle is ofScotland, and the shamrock of Ireland. 

In the East there is even more of poetic significance attached to therose than with us. It is related of Sadi, the Persian poet, that, when aslave, he earned his freedom by the adroit use of the flower. One day hepresented a rose to his master, with the remark, made with all humility, 'Do good to thy servant whilst thou hast the power, for the season ofpower is often as transient as the duration of this flower. ' This was inallusion to the Eastern fancy, which makes the white rose the emblem oflife--transient and uncertain. In Persia they have a festival called'The Feast of the Roses, ' which lasts during the blooming of theflowers. One of their great works is called The Garden of Roses, and inall their poems and tales they closely associate the rose with thebulbul or nightingale. The belief is that the bird derives his melodyfrom the beauteous flower, and they say, 'You may place a handful offragrant herbs and flowers before the nightingale, but he wants nothingmore than the odour of his beloved rose. '

Thomas Moore seizes, with happy effect, on this legend in Lalla Rookh, which poem, indeed, is redolent of roses. But poetry generally is asfull of the rose as the rose is of poetry, and it would take a volume todeal adequately with all the fancies and superstitious associations ofthe queen of flowers. Before quitting the subject, however, we shouldnot overlook the Oriental traditions of how the rose received itsvarious colours. It is said that when Mohammed was journeying to heaven, the sweat which fell from his forehead produced white roses, and thatwhich fell from Al Borak produced yellow roses. But an older traditionis given by Sir John Mandeville. It is that of Zillah, the beauteousmaiden of Bethlehem, who, being falsely accused, was condemned to beburned alive. At the stake the flames passed over her and shrivelled upher accuser, while, on the spot where she stood, sprang up a garden ofroses--red where the fire had touched, and white where it had passed. 'And theise werein the first roseres that ever ony man saughe. '

Reference has been made to the lily as the emblem of purity, but, curiously enough, this innocent-looking flower has its balefulsuperstitions as well. 

In Devonshire it is accounted unlucky to plant a bed oflilies-of-the-valley, and to do so is to ensure misfortune, if notdeath, within a year. Yet this flower has always been closely associatedwith the Virgin Mary, and according to one legend, it sprang from someof the milk which fell to the ground as she was nourishing the infantJesus. The Greeks, however, had a similar legend, ascribing the originof the flower to a drop of Juno's milk. The Greeks have always made afavourite of the lily, and even to this day use it largely in making upbridal wreaths, while the sacred significance which Christians havefound in the flower may be traceable to our Lord's use of it in imagery. 

In this connection the legend of the budding lily of St. Joseph may berecalled, and also the fact that the mediĉval painters generallydepicted the Madonna with a lily in her hand. There is a tradition thatthe lily was the principal ornament in the crown of Solomon, and that ittypified love, charity, purity, and innocence--a combination of virtueshardly to be found in the character of the wise King himself. 

Nor must we forget that the sacred flower of the East--the lotus--is alily, and that even to name it seems to carry ineffable consolation tothe Buddhist. Thus, the universal prayer of the Buddhists--that prayerwhich is printed on slips and fastened on cylinders which areincessantly revolving in Thibet--'Om mani padme hum!' means simply, 'Oh, the jewel in (or of) the lotus! Amen!' So Sir Edwin Arnold, in TheLight of Asia:

 'Ah, Lover! Brother! Guide! Lamp of the Law! I take my refuge in Thy name and Thee! I take my refuge in Thy Law of Good! I take my refuge in Thy Order! Om! The dew is on the lotus. Rise, Great Sun, And lift my leaf, and mix me with the wave. "Om mani padme hum, " the sunrise comes. The dewdrop slips into the shining sea!'

The lily, or lotus, was held sacred also in ancient Egypt, and thecapitals of many of the buildings bear the form of an open lotus-flower. And naturally, in a land of Buddhism like China, the lotus occupiesthere an important place, both in art, in poetry, and in popular fancy. It is recorded that the old Jews regarded the lily, or lotus (_Liliumcandidum_), as a protection against enchantment, and it is said thatJudith wore a wreath of lilies when she went to visit Holofernes, by wayof counteractant charm. 

The lotus which is the sacred lily of the East must not be confoundedwith the mysterious plant mentioned by Ulysses, and of which Tennysonhas sung--the plant of oblivion and sensuousness. That there is anelement of enchantment about the lily we have seen is still believed inour own country, but the association of misfortune with it is notuniversal. On the contrary, in some parts the leaf of the lily issupposed to have curative virtues in cases of cuts and wounds, andGerarde, the old herbalist, even says that 'the flowers oflily-of-the-valley, being close stopped up in a glass, put into anant-hill, and taken away again a month after, ye shall find a liquor inthe glass, which being outwardly applied, helpeth the gout. ' One hears, perhaps, of no modern experiments having been made with this remedy. Butif not to cure gout, the flower has, it appears, been used to pay rents, for Grimm says that some lands in Hesse were held upon the condition ofpresenting a bunch of lily-of-the-valley every year. This, of course, would not be the whole burden, and the custom had, no doubt, a religiousorigin and significance. 

The flower is often associated with the sword of justice, and both theDominicans and the Cistercians held it in high honour. It is worthnoting, too, that some traditions make the lily the favourite flower ofSt. Cecilia, although the popular legend makes the angel bring her abouquet of roses every night from Paradise. 

But how did the lily become the badge of France? One tradition is thatit was adopted by the French kings because it was the emblem of purity, and closely associated with both Christ and Solomon. One old legend hasit that after one of the great battles of the Crusaders, the Frenchbanners were found covered with lilies. According to others, the Fleurde lys is merely a corruption of Fleur de Luce, or Fleur de Louis, andwas not a lily at all, but the purple iris, which Louis the Seventhadopted for his emblem on his departure to the Holy Land. On the otherhand, there is a legend that a shield of azure bearing the device ofthree golden lilies was presented by an angel to Clothilde, the wife ofClovis, and it is claimed that the lily has been the true nationalemblem of France ever since the time of that Sovereign. Whatever theorigin, however, of Fleur de lys, it certainly means lily now, and theLily of France is a symbol as definite as the Rose of England, as theShamrock of Ireland, or as the Thistle of Scotland. 

It is curious how much superstition and romance have clustered round thehumble clover-leaf. Not one of us, perhaps, but has in childhood spenthours in looking for the four-leaved clover that was to bring untoldluck. What trouble to find it! What joy when found! And what littleprofit beyond the joy of the search! As the old couplet has it, somewhatinconsequently:

 'With a four-leav'd clover, double-topp'd ash, and green-topp'd seave, You may go before the queen's daughter without asking leave. '

The advantage here suggested is not very obvious, but the Devonshirepeople had a more defined idea of the virtue of the double clover, andthey state it thus:

 'An even-leaved ash, And a four-leaved clover; You'll see your true lover Before the day's over. '

But in Cambridgeshire it seems that the two-leaved clover is the objectof desire, for there the saying goes:

 'A clover, a clover of two, Put it on your right shoe; The first young man you meet, In field, or lane, or street, You shall have him, Or one of his name. '

This, while presenting a considerable amount of uncertainty in theresult has, at least, the merit of presaging something. 

In other parts, however, and in more ancient days, the carrying of thefour-bladed clover was believed to bring luck in play and in business, safety on a journey, and the power of detecting evil spirits. In Germanythe clover was held almost sacred whenever it had two or four blades. Now, as to luck, a curious thing is stated by the author of the PlantLore of Shakespeare. He says that clover is a corruption of _clava_, aclub, and that to this day we preserve the emblem of luck on ourplaying-cards in painting the suit of clubs. Somehow the etymology doesnot seem very satisfying; but at any rate we all know what 'living inclover' means. 

Yet, perhaps, everyone does not know that in rural districts the cloveris looked upon as a capital barometer, the leaves becoming rough to thefeel when a storm is impending. A writer, quoted by Mr. Thiselton-Dyer, says that when tempestuous weather is coming the clover will 'start andrise up as if it were afraid of an assault. '

It is probable that the association of good luck with the four-bladedclover arose from its fancied resemblance to the cross. Support is givento this hypothesis by the traditional origin of the shamrock as thebadge of Ireland. In the account given of St. Patrick in The Book ofDays, it is stated that once when the Saint wanted to illustrate thedoctrine of the Trinity to his pagan hearers, he plucked a piece of thecommon white clover. Now, it seems that the trefoil is called_shamrakh_ in Arabic, and was held sacred in Persia. And it isremarkable that Pliny says the trefoil is an antidote against the bitesof snakes and scorpions. It is not by any means certain that the commonclover was the original shamrock of Ireland; and even to this day manyclaim the title for the wood-sorrel. Still, for fifty years, at anyrate, the popular belief has been that the trefoil-clover is the plantwhich was plucked by St. Patrick, who drove out the snakes from Ireland, who is still her patron-saint, and whose badge is worn to this day. 

But how did the name come from Arabia, and what is the connectionbetween Pliny's theory and the legend, of St. Patrick's victory over thevermin? These remain among the unsolved mysteries of folk-lore. 

With the emblem of Scotland--the thistle--not so many classicalassociations and active superstitions are to be found, but yet it is notdevoid of folk-lore. Of course opinions differ as to what was or is thetrue Scotch thistle, but of the several varieties of thistles manybeliefs are entertained. One variety--the Carline--is esteemed in someparts as a barometer, as it closes up when rain is approaching. InTartary there is a variety which grows to such a size that it is plantedfor shelter on the windward side of the huts on the Steppes. Thisthistle is called the 'Wind Witch, ' because, after the heat of thesummer is past, the dried portions take the form of a ball, with whichthe spirits are supposed to make merry in the autumnal gales. 

The origin of the name thistle is probably Scandinavian, and associatedwith Thor. The plant was, at any rate, sacred to the Scandinavian god, and was believed by the old Vikings to receive the colour of thelightning into its blossom, which thereupon became endowed with highcurative and protective virtues. There was a species of thistle onDartmoor which used to be called Thormantle, and was used in thatdistrict as a febrifuge. Some writers have said that in Poland someinfantile disorders are supposed to be the work of mischievous spiritsusing thistle-seed. 

The Lady's Thistle, which some believe to be the true Scotch thistle, isone of the many plants associated with the Virgin. The tradition, according to Brand, is that the white spots on the leaves are due to thefalling of some drops of the Holy Mother's milk, a legend we have seento be attached also to the lily. Then the great Emperor Charlemagne'sname is blended with that of the Carline Thistle, the story being thatduring the prevalence of an epidemic among his troops he prayed to Godfor help. An angel appeared, and indicated, by firing an arrow, a plantwhich would allay the disease. This was the _Carlina acaulis_, which, ofcourse, cured all the sick soldiers, and possibly may have some of thefebrifuge virtues which the Dartmoor people fancied existed in anotherkind of thistle. Nettle-soup is still a familiar housewife's remedy forsome childish ailments. 

In some parts of Germany there is a superstition that sores upon horses'backs may be cured by gathering four red thistle-blossoms beforedaybreak, and placing them in the form of a square upon the ground witha stone in the middle. It is not easy to trace the probable origin ofthis belief, but many of the old herbalists mention the thistle asefficacious in cases of vertigo, headache, jaundice, and 'infirmities ofthe gall. ' Says one, 'It is an herb of Mars, and under the sign Aries. 'Therefore, 'it strengthens the attractive faculty in man and clarifiesthe blood, because the one is ruled by Mars. The continual drinking thedecoction of it helps red faces, tetters, and ringworms, because Marscauseth them. It helps the plague, sores, boils, itches, the bitings ofmad dogs and venomous beasts, all which infirmities are under Mars. 'This same writer agrees with Dioscorides that the root of a thistlecarried about 'doth expel melancholy and removes all diseases connectedtherewith. ' In other words, the thistle was held to possess all thevirtues now claimed for podophyllum, blue-pill, and dandelion--auniversal antibilious agent!

But how did the thistle become the emblem of Scotland? Well, there areas many traditions on the subject as there are opinions as to whichvariety of the plant is the true Scottish thistle. It would be tedioushere to refer to all, so let us just note that although the _CarduusMarianus_, or the Blessed or Lady's Thistle--the origin of whose name wehave given--is very commonly accepted, so competent an authority onScottish lore as the author of Nether Lochaber rejects both that and allother varieties in favour of the _Cnicus acaulis_, or the stemlessthistle. In doing this, he founds his belief upon the followingtradition: Once, during the invasion of Scotland by the Norsemen, theinvaders were stealing a march in the dark upon the Scots, when one ofthe barefooted scouts placed his foot upon a thistle, which caused himto cry out so loudly that the Scots were aroused, and, flying to theirhorses, drove back the Danes with great slaughter. Now, this could nothappen, says Dr. Stewart, with any of the tall thistles, but only withthe stemless thistle, which has sharp, fine spikes, and grows close onthe ground. 

This, at least, is as reasonable an explanation as any of the greatnational badge of Scotland. It but remains to add that the first mentionof the thistle as a national emblem occurs in an inventory of the jewelsand other effects of James the Third, about 1467, and its first mentionin poetry is in a poem by Dunbar, written about 1503, to commemorate themarriage of James the Fourth with Margaret Tudor, and called TheThrissell and the Rois. The Order of the Thistle dates from James theSeventh of Scotland and Second of England, about 1687. 

And now, as we began with the wreath of parsley, which symbolized death, let us end with the crown of orange-blossoms, which, among us, nowsymbolizes the twofold life of the married state. Among the Greeks, thebrides used to wear garlands of myrtle and roses, because both of theseplants were associated with the Goddess of Love. In China the orangehas, from time immemorial, been an emblem of good luck, and is freelyused to present to friends and guests. But although the orange is saidto have been first brought by the Portuguese from China in 1547, nevertheless this fruit is supposed to have been the golden apple ofJuno, which grew in the Garden of Hesperides. As the golden apple waspresented to the Queen of Heaven upon her marriage with Jupiter, we mayfind here a definite explanation of the meaning attached to the fruit. 

But, besides this, it seems that orange-blossom was used centuries agoby Saracen brides in their personal decorations on the great day oftheir lives. It was meant to typify fruitfulness, and it is to be notedthat the orange-tree bears both fruit and blossom at the same time, andis remarkable for its productiveness. It is possible, then, that theidea of orange-blossom for bridal decoration was brought from the Eastby the Crusaders; but it is uncertain at what date the custom began tobe followed in England. However introduced, and whether retained as asymbol or merely for the exquisite beauty of the flower, it willcontinue to hold its place in the affections of the maiden-bride, towhom it seems to sing:

 'Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, Long continuance and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you, Juno sings her blessings on you. '

CHAPTER X. 

ROSEMARY FOR REMEMBRANCE. 

'Doth not Rosemary and Romeo both begin with a letter?' asks Juliet'snurse. Yes, but what did she mean by the query, and by the furtherremark that 'Juliet hath the prettiest sententions of it, of you androsemary, that it would do you good to hear it'? For answer we must makesome search into the beliefs and customs of the past. 

Rosemary is the 'Ros-marinus' of the old herbalists, but it is not anative of Britain, and there is no exact record of when it wasintroduced here from the South of Europe. Mention of 'Ros-marinus'occurs in an Anglo-Saxon vocabulary of the eleventh century, where it istranslated Feld-madder and Sun-dew. There is some doubt whether this hasreference to the actual plant now known to us as rosemary, but in nocase was it the Rose of Mary, as some have supposed. It is not a rose, and the 'Mary' is from 'marinus, ' or 'maris. ' The old English spellingwas Rosmarin, or Rosmarine; in these forms one finds the word used byGower, and Shenstone, and other old poets. 

In the South of Europe the rosemary has long had magic propertiesascribed to it. The Spanish ladies used to wear it as an antidoteagainst the evil eye, and the Portuguese called it the Elfin plant, anddedicated it to the fairies. The idea of the antidote may have been dueto a confusion of the name with that of the Virgin; but as a matter offact the 'Ros-marinus' is frequently mentioned by old Latin writers, including Horace and Ovid. The name came from the fondness of the plantfor the sea-shore, where it often gets sprinkled with the 'ros, ' or dewof the sea, that is to say, sea-spray. Another cause of confusion, perhaps, was that the leaves of the plant somewhat resemble those of thejuniper, which in mediĉval times was one of the plants held sacred tothe Virgin Mary. In the island of Crete, it is said, a bride dressed forthe wedding still calls last of all for a sprig of rosemary to bring herluck. 

And thus we come to find rosemary in close association with bothmarriage and death, just as the hyacinth was, and perhaps still is, among the Greeks. It is interesting to trace the connection by which thesame plant came to have two such different uses. 

One of the earliest mentions of rosemary in English literature is in apoem of the fourteenth century called 'The Gloriouse Rosemaryne, ' whichbegins thus:

 'This herbe is callit rosemaryn, Of vertu that is gode and fyne; But all the vertues tell I ne can, Nor, I trowe, no erthely man. '

Nevertheless, the poet proceeds to record at great length manyastounding virtues, including the restoration of youth to the aged bybathing in rosemary water. 

The 'cheerful rosemarie' and 'refreshing rosemarine' of Spenser was oncea great favourite in England, although now it is hardly allowed gardenspace. Sir Thomas More said: 'I let it run all over my garden walls, notonly because my bees love it, but because 'tis the herb sacred toremembrance, and therefore to friendship: whence a sprig of it hath adumb language that maketh it the chosen emblem at our funeral wakes andin our burial grounds. '

The popularity of the plant was doubtless due to the long-enduring scentand verdure of the leaves. It is one of the most lasting of evergreens, and the pleasant aromatic odour lingers very long after the leaves havebeen gathered. 

Fragrance and endurance, then, are the characteristics of a plant whichcame to be commonly accepted as an emblem of constancy, and also ofloving remembrance. Thus it is that Herrick sings of it:

 'Grow for two ends, it matters not at all, Be't for my bridal or my burial. '

Thus it is that we find Friar Laurence over Juliet's body, saying:

 'Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair corse, '

which is certainly not what the nurse meant when she told Romeo of the'prettiest sententions. '

High medicinal properties were ascribed to the rosemary, so much so thatold Parkinson writes: 'Rosemary is almost as great use as bayes, bothfor outward and inward remedies, and as well for civill as physicallpurposes; inwardly for the head and heart, outwardly for the sinews andjoynts; for civill uses, as all do know, at weddings, funerals, etc. , tobestow among friends; and the physicall are so many that you might aswell be tyred in the reading as I in the writing, if I should set downall that might be said of it. '

One of the 'physicall' uses was in stirring up the tankard of ale orsack, and at weddings a sprig was usually dipped in the loving-cup togive it fragrance as well as luck. 

The virtues of the plant are celebrated in a curious wedding sermonquoted by Hone:

'The rosemary is for married men, the which by name, nature, andcontinued use, man challengeth as properly belonging to himself. Itovertoppeth all the flowers in the garden boasting man's rule; ithelpeth the brain, strengtheneth the memory, and is very medicinal forthe head. Another property is, it affects the heart. Let thisros-marinus, this flower of man, ensign of your wisdom, love, andloyalty, be carried not only in your hands but in your heads andhearts. '

One does not easily reconcile this laudation with the popularsuperstition that wherever the rosemary flourished there should thewoman be the ruling power. And to this superstition, be it noted, hasbeen ascribed the disfavour into which the plant has fallen amonggardeners since Shakespeare's time. 

The medical properties may have been over-rated by old Parkinson, butsome are recognised even to this day. Thus rosemary is used as aninfusion to cure headaches, and is believed to be an extensiveingredient in hair-restorers. It is also one of the ingredients in themanufacture of Eau-de-Cologne, and has many other uses in the form ofoil of rosemary. It is said that bees which feed on rosemary blossomsproduce a very delicately-flavoured honey. Perfumers are greatlyindebted to it. According to De Gubernatis, the flowers of the plant areproof against rheumatism, nervous indisposition, general debility, weakness of sight, melancholy, weak circulation, and cramp. Almost ascomprehensive a cure as some of our modern universal specifics!

The medicinal properties of rosemary have been held by some to accountfor its funeral uses. At all events, an ingenious writer of theseventeenth century held that the custom of carrying a sprig at afuneral had its rise from a notion of an 'alexipharmick' or preservativevirtue in the herb which would protect the wearer from 'pestilentialdistempers, ' and be a powerful defence 'against the morbid effluvias ofthe corpse. ' For the same reason, this writer asserts, it was customaryto burn rosemary in the chambers of the sick, just like frankincense, 'whose odour is not much different from rosemary, which gave the Greeksoccasion to call it Libanotis, from Libanos (frankincense). '

The hyssop of the Bible is believed by some to be rosemary, and it issaid that in the East it was customary to hang up a bunch in the houseas a protection against evil spirits, and to use it in variousceremonies against enchantment. Perhaps there was some connectionbetween this custom and that of the Greeks referred to by Aristotle, whoregarded indigestion as the effect of witchcraft, and who used rue as anantidote. The dispelling of the charm was just the natural physicalaction of the herb. 

In Devonshire, however, there was a more mystic use for rosemary indispelling the charms of witches. A bunch of it had to be taken in thehand and dropped bit by bit on live coals, while the two first verses ofthe sixty-eighth psalm were recited, followed by the Lord's Prayer. Bay-leaves were sometimes used in the same manner; but if the afflictedone were suffering physically, he had also to take certain prescribedmedicines. Rosemary worn about the body was believed to strengthen thememory and to add to the success of the wearer in anything he mightundertake. 

It is as an emblem of remembrance that rosemary is most frequently usedby the old poets. Thus Ophelia:

 'There is rosemary for you, that's for remembrance; I pray you, love, remember. '

And in The Winter's Tale:

 'For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long; Grace and remembrance be with you both. '

And thus Drayton:

 'He from his lass him lavender hath sent, Showing her love, and doth requital crave; Him rosemary his sweetheart, whose intent Is that he her should in remembrance have. '

Quotations might be easily multiplied, but the reader will find inBrand's Popular Antiquities numerous references to the plant by writersof the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 

As an emblem of rejoicing, rosemary was also often used. Hone quotes acontemporary account of the joyful entry of Queen Elizabeth into Londonin 1558, wherein occurs this passage: 'How many nosegays did her Gracereceive at poor women's hands? How often times stayed she her chariotwhen she saw any simple body offer to speak to her Grace? A branch ofrosemary given to her Grace, with a supplication by a poor woman aboutFleet Bridge, was seen in her chariot till her Grace came toWestminster. ' The object of the particular floral offering in this caseis not very obvious, unless as an emblematic tribute to the maidenqueen. 

Rosemary used to be carried in the hand at weddings, as well as strewedon the ground and dipped in the cup. Thus Stow narrates of a wedding in1560, that 'fine flowers and rosemary were strewed for them cominghome'; and Brand cites numerous instances from old plays. In one, 'theparties enter with rosemary, as if from a wedding'; and in Beaumont andFletcher's Scornful Lady, the question is asked about a wedding, 'Werethe rosemary branches dipped?' This dipping, moreover, was in scentedwater as well as in the loving-cup, and hence the allusion in Dekker'sWonderful Year to a bride who had died on her wedding-night:

'Here is a strange alteration; for the rosemary that was washed in sweetwater to set out the bridal is now wet in tears to furnish her burial. '

It is on record that Anne of Cleves wore rosemary at her wedding withHenry the Eighth; and in an account of some marriage festivities atKenilworth, attended by Queen Elizabeth, there is frequent mention ofthe plant. An idea of how it was sometimes used is given in adescription of a sixteenth century wedding quoted by the Rev. HildericFriend: 'The bride being attired in a gown of sheep's russet and akirtle of fine worsted, attired with abillement of gold' (milliner'sFrench even then!); 'and her hair, yellow as gold, hanging down behindher, which was curiously combed and plaited' she was led to churchbetween two sweet boys, with bride-laces and rosemary tied about hersilken sleeves. There was a fair bride-cup of silver-gilt carried beforeher, wherein was a goodly branch of rosemary gilded very fair, and hungabout with silken ribands of all colours. '

Coles says that the garden rosemary was called _Rosmarinus coronarium_, because the women made crowns and garlands of it. Ben Jonson says thatit was customary for the bridesmaids to present the bridegroom nextmorning with a bunch of rosemary. And Brand says that as late as 1698the custom still prevailed in England of decking the bridal bed withsprigs of rosemary. 

In Jonson's Tale of a Tub, one of the characters assembled to await theintended bridegroom says: 'Look an' the wenches ha' not found un out, and do present un with a van of rosemary and bays, enough to vill abow-pott or trim the head of my best vore-horse; we shall all ha'bride-laces and points, I see. ' And again, a country swain assures hissweetheart at their wedding: 'We'll have rosemary and bayes to vill abow-pott, and with the same I'll trim the vorehead of my bestvore-horse'--so that it would seem the decorative use was not confinedto the bride, the guests, and the banquet. 

As a love-charm the reputation of rosemary seems to have come from theSouth. There is an old Spanish proverb which runs:

 'Who passeth by the rosemarie, And careth not to take a spray, For woman's love no care has he, Nor shall he, though he live for aye. '

Mr. Thiselton-Dyer says that rosemary is used in some parts of thecountry, as nut-charms are on Halloween, to foretell a lover; only, St. Agnes' Eve is the occasion on which to invoke with a sprig of rosemary, or thyme, with this formula:

 'St. Agnes, that's to lovers kind, Come, ease the troubles of my mind. '

For love-potions, decoctions of rosemary were much employed. 

As to funereal uses, those who are familiar with Hogarth's drawings willremember one of a funeral party with sprigs of rosemary in their hands. Misson, a French traveller (_temp. _ William the Third), thus describesEnglish funeral ceremonies: 'When they are ready to set out, they nailup the coffin, and a servant presents the company with sprigs ofrosemary. Everyone takes a sprig and carries it in his hand till thebody is put into the grave, at which time they all throw their sprigs inafter it. ' Hence Gay:

 'To show their love, the neighbours far and near, Follow'd with wistful looks the damsel's bier; Sprigg'd rosemary the lads and lasses bore, While dismally the parson walk'd before. Upon her grave the rosemary they threw. '

Whether the fact that the rosemary buds in January has anything to dowith its funereal uses admits of conjecture, as Sir Thomas Browne wouldsay; but that fact was certainly present to the writer of the followingverses, which were worthily rescued by Hone from a 'fugitive copy, 'although the writer's name has been lost:

 'Sweet-scented flower! who art wont to bloom On January's front severe, And o'er the wintry desert drear To waft thy waste perfume! Come, thou shalt form my nosegay now, And I will bind thee round my brow; And, as I twine the mournful wreath, I'll weave a melancholy song, And sweet the strain shall be, and long-- The melody of death. 

 'Come, funeral flower! who lov'st to dwell With the pale corse in lonely tomb, And throw across the desert gloom A sweet decaying smell. Come, pressing lips, and lie with me Beneath the lonely alder-tree, And we will sleep a pleasant sleep, And not a care shall dare intrude To break the marble solitude, So peaceful and so deep. 

 'And hark! the wind-god, as he flies, Moans hollow in the forest trees, And, sailing on the gusty breeze, Mysterious music dies. Sweet flower! the requiem wild is mine. It warns me to the lonely shrine-- The cold turf-altar of the dead. My grave shall be in yon lone spot, Where, as I lie by all forgot, A dying fragrance thou wilt o'er my ashes shed. '

In South Wales, in Cheshire, and in Bucks, the custom still obtains, according to Mr. Hilderic Friend, for each mourner to carry a sprig ofrosemary to the grave, into which it is thrown. For weddings, rosemarywas dipped in scented water, but for funerals in plain water. Hence thereference in an old play, quoted by Hone:

 'If there be Any so kind as to accompany My body to the earth, let them not want For entertainment. Prythee, see they have A sprig of rosemary, dipp'd in common water, To smell at as they walk along the streets. '

In Dekker's Wonderful Year there is a description of a charnel-housepavement strewed with withered rosemary, hyacinth, cypress, and yew. During the Plague rosemary was in such demand for funerals that, saysDekker, what 'had wont to be sold for twelvepence an armfull went now atsix shillings a handfull. ' Certainly a remarkable rise. What the pricewas in 1531 we know not; but in an account of the funeral expenses of aLord Mayor of London, who died in that year, appears an item, 'Foryerbes at the bewyral £0 1 0'--which presumably refers to rosemary. 

'Cypresse garlands, ' wrote Coles, 'are of great account at funerallsamong the gentiler sort; but Rosemary and Bayes are used by the commonsboth at funeralls and weddings. They are all plants which fade not agood while after they are gathered and used, as I conceive, to intimateunto us that the remembrance of the present solemnity might not diepresently, but be kept in minde for many yeares. '

We have now seen something of the many significations of rosemary, andfind an explanation of why the same plant was used for both weddings andfunerals, in the fact that it emblemised remembrance by its evergreenand fragrant qualities. One may have doubts about the truth of the storyof the man of whom it is recorded that he wanted to be married again onthe day of his wife's funeral because the rosemary which had been usedat her burial would come in usefully and economically for the weddingceremony. But if the story is too good to be true, there is suggestionenough in the circumstance referred to by Shakespeare, that

 'Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corpse. '

CHAPTER XI. 

HERB OF GRACE. 

Why did Ophelia say: 'There's rue for you, and here's some for me; wemay call it herb grace o' Sundays, for you must wear your rue with adifference'? For the same reason that Perdita says, in The Winter'sTale, when welcoming the guests of her reputed father and the shepherd:

 'Reverend sirs, For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long; Grace and remembrance be to you both, And welcome to our shearing. '

Remembrance, as we have already seen in the last chapter, was symbolizedby the rosemary, and by both Ophelia and Perdita the rue is taken as thesymbol of grace. How this came to be is what we have now to consider;but perhaps Mr. Ellacombe, author of Plant-Lore of Shakespeare, isstretching rather far in suggesting that the rue was implied by Antony, when he used the word 'grace' in addressing the weeping followers(Antony and Cleopatra, Act IV. , Scene 2) thus:

 'Grace grow where these drops fall. '

What Ophelia said was: 'There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for thought. There's fennelfor you, and columbines. There's rue for you, and here's some for me. Wemay call it herb-grace o' Sundays. Oh! you may wear your rue with adifference. '

There was a method in her madness, and she was distributing her flowersaccording to the characters and moods of the recipients. Fennel, forinstance, emblemised flattery, and columbine ingratitude. Rue emblemisedeither remorse or repentance--either sorrow or grace--so 'you may wearyour rue with a difference. '

So we find the gardener in Richard II. Saying, after the departure ofthe anxious Queen:

 'Here she did fall a tear; here in this place I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace; Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping Queen. '

The herb was believed to be endowed with high moral and medicinalproperties, yet was supposed to prosper better in one's garden if stolenfrom that of a neighbour. But originally it was associated with sorrowand pity. The word rue is doubtless of the same root as 'ruth, ' and torue is to be sorry for, to have remorse. Ruth is the English equivalentof the Latin _ruta_, and in early English appeared as 'rude. ' As regretis always more or less a mark of repentance, it was the most naturalthing in the world for the herb of ruth, or sorrow, to become the herbof repentance; and as repentance is a sign of grace, so rue became knownas 'herb of grace. ' This, in brief, is the connection, but it is worthnoting in passing that rue is only once mentioned in the Bible, and thenonly along with a number of other bitter herbs, and without any specialsignificance. 

There is this association between rue and rosemary, that both arenatives of some of the more barren coasts of the Mediterranean, and thatboth were very early admitted to the English herb-garden. The oldherbalists make frequent mention of rue, and even in Anglo-Saxon timesit seems to have been extensively used in medicine. Threepeculiarities--a strong, aromatic smell, a bitter taste, and ablistering quality in the leaves--were quite sufficient to establish itin the pharmacopoeia of the herb doctors. 

The curative qualities of what Spenser calls the 'ranke-smelling rue'were reputedly of a very varied sort. Most readers will remember thereference in Paradise Lost:

 'Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, Which the false fruit which promised clearer sight Had bred; then purged with euphraie and rue The visual nerve, for he had much to see. '

And perhaps its most popular use was as an eyewash. The old writers haverecorded some hidden virtues known only to the animal world, such asthat weasels prepared themselves for a rat-fight by a diet of rue. OldParkinson, the herbalist, says that 'without doubt it is a mostwholesome herb, although bitter and strong. ' He speaks of a 'bead-rowl'of the virtues of rue, but warns people of the 'too frequent orover-much use thereof. '

As both a stimulant and a narcotic the plant has even now recognisedvirtues, and is not without its uses in modern medicine. The Italiansare said to eat the leaves in salad, but hardly of that species--_Rutamontana_--which botanists say it is dangerous to handle without gloves. Our garden species is _Ruta graveolens_ and is used by the Frenchperfumers in the manufacture of 'Thieves Vinegar, ' or 'MarseillesVinegar, ' once accounted an effective protection against fevers and allinfectious diseases. 

A curious instance of the value of the herb in this respect occurred in1760. In the summer of that year a rumour arose, and rapidly spread inLondon, that the plague had broken out in St. Thomas's Hospital. Immediately there was what would nowadays be called a 'boom' in rue, theprice of which rose forty per cent. In a single day in Covent Garden. Toallay the popular alarm a manifesto was issued, signed by thephysicians, surgeons, and apothecaries of the hospital, certifying thatthere were no other than the 'usual' diseases among the patients in thewards. 

Another explanation of the origin of the name 'herb of grace' has beengiven than that referred to above. Warburton, among others, thinks thatthe name was adopted because the old Romanists used the plant on Sundaysin their 'exorcisms. ' However this may be, rue, or the herb of grace, has been in this country long accounted an antidote of witchcraft. Butthen, so it was in the days of Aristotle, before it became 'herb ofgrace, ' and when it was hung round the neck as an amulet. The fact is, however, that rue became an antidote of witchcraft because it had becomea noted implement in enchantment. 

Through its numerous reputed properties, rue early found its way intothe magic cauldron. 

 'Then sprinkles she the juice of rue, With nine drops of the midnight dew, From lunary distilling, '

as Drayton has it. In this incantation, again, we have the associationwith moonwort; and the connection is further illustrated in an oldoracle ascribed to Hecate: 'From a root of wild rue fashion and polish astatue; adorn it with household lizards; grind myrrh, gum, andfrankincense with the same reptiles, and let the mixture stand in theair during the waning of a moon; then address your words. '

With regard to the association with moonwort, it is interesting torecall that this is one of the plants supposed to be employed by birdsfor opening nests and removing impediments. Thus in an anecdote gravelyrelated to Aubrey, we find this virtue mentioned: 'Sir Bennet Hoskinstold me that his keeper at his parke at Morehampton, in Herefordshire, did for experiment's sake drive an iron naile thwart the hole of awoodpecker's nest, there being a tradition that the dam will bring someleafe to open it. He layed at the bottom of the tree a cleane sheet, andbefore many houres passed, the naile came out, and he found a leafelying by it on the sheete. They say the Moonwort will doe such things. '

On the same subject Coles, the botanist, writes: 'It is said, yea, andbelieved, that Moonwort will open the locks wherewith dwelling-housesare made fast, if it be put into the keyhole. ' And Culpeper, theherbalist, writes thus: 'Moonwort is a herb which, they say, will openlocks and unshoe such horses as tread upon it. This some laugh to scorn, and these no small fools neither; but country people that I know call itUnshoe-the-horse. Besides, I have heard commanders say that on WhiteDown in Devonshire, near Tiverton, there were found thirty horseshoespulled off from the feet of the Earl of Essex's horses, being theredrawn up in a body, many of them being newly shod, and no reason known, which caused much admiration. ' As well it might! This power of themoonwort is said to be still believed in in Normandy, and a similarvirtue was also ascribed to the vervain and the mandrake, bothassociated with rue. 

This curious property of moonwort it is which is referred to in DivineWeekes thus:

 'Horses that, feeding on the grassy hills, Tread upon moonwort with their hollow heels, Though lately shod, at night go barefoot home, Their maister musing where their shoes become. Oh, moonwort! tell me where thou hid'st the smith, Hammer and pinchers, thou unshodd'st them with? Alas! what lock or iron engine is't That can the subtle secret strength resist? Still the best farrier cannot set a shoe So sure but thou, so shortly, canst undo. '

The old alchemists, however, had a more profitable use for moonwort thanthe unshoeing of horses; they employed it for converting quicksilverinto pure silver, at a time when that metal was neither 'degraded' nor'depreciated. '

There is an old and pleasant belief, of which John Ruskin makeseffective use in driving home one of his morals, that flowers alwaysbloom best in the gardens of those who love them. One could easily finda rationalistic explanation of this sentiment, of course, but it is akinto a superstition entertained in some parts that wherever the moonwortflourishes the owner of the garden is honest. 

The ingredients thrown into the mystic cauldron by European sorcererswere in close imitation of those of the ancient alchemists. MoncureConway has pointed out that among the ingredients used by English andScotch witches were plants gathered, as in Egypt, at certain seasons orphases of the moon. Chief among such plants were rue and vervain. TheDruids called vervain the 'Holy herb, ' and gathered it when the dog-starrose, placing a sacrifice of honey in the earth from which they removedit. 

In old Greece and Rome vervain was sacred to the god of war, and inScandinavia it was also sacred to Thor. It was, moreover, carried byambassadors of peace, and was supposed to preserve from lightning anyhouse decorated with it. In later times it was believed that adecoction of vervain and rue, mixed, had such a remarkable effect ongun-metal that anyone using a gun over which the liquid had been pouredwould shoot 'as straight as a die. ' This may be news to our modernmusketry instructors. 

Had this belief, one may wonder, anything to do with the special effecton the eye always supposed to be possessed by rue? Its virtue as aneye-salve, at any rate, may explain how it came to be regarded ascapable of bestowing the 'second sight. ' To this day, in the Tyrol it isstill believed to confer fine vision. If hallucinations were, as MoncureConway assumes, the basis of belief in second sight, then we canunderstand the reputed virtues of rue in its narcotic qualities. We haveseen how it came to be called 'herb of grace, ' yet some think it gotthis name through being used in witchcraft by exorcists to try thedevil. 

Speculating on why herbs and roots should have been esteemed magical, Mr. Andrew Lang concludes that it is enough to remember that herbsreally have medicinal properties, and that untutored people invariablyconfound medicine with magic. Thus it was easy to suppose that a plantpossessed virtue not only when swallowed, but when carried in the hand. The same writer examines the theory that rue was the Homeric moly, whichin a former chapter we identified with the mandrake. But Lang rejectsthat theory, and says that rue was called 'herb of grace' and was usedfor sprinkling holy water because in pre-Christian times it had beensupposed to have effect against the powers of evil. The earlyChristians were thus just endeavouring to combine the old charm of ruewith the new potency of holy water. 

'Euphrasy and rue, ' says Lang, 'were employed to purge and purify mortaleyes. Pliny is very learned about the magical virtues of rue. Just asthe stolen potato is sovran for rheumatism, so "rue stolen thriveth thebest. " The Samoans think that their most valued vegetables were stolenfrom heaven by a Samoan visitor. It is remarkable that rue, according toPliny, is killed by the touch of a woman, in the same way as, accordingto Josephus, the mandrake is tamed. These passages prove that theclassical peoples had the same extraordinary superstitions about womenas the Bushmen and Red Indians. Indeed, Pliny describes a magical mannerof defending the crops from blight by aid of women, which is actuallypractised in America by the red-man. '

Although rue was found in the witches' cauldron, it is also to be foundas a popular specific against the blight of witchcraft. Concerning this, however, Moncure Conway says that 'the only region on the Continentwhere any superstition concerning rue is found resembling the form itassumed in England as affecting the eye is in the Tyrol, where it is oneof five plants--the others being broom-straw, agrimony, maidenhair, andground-ivy--which are bound together, and believed, if carried about, toenable the bearer to see witches, or if laid over the door, to keep anywitch who shall seek to enter fastened on the threshold. '

In Scandinavia and North Germany, St. John's wort was used in much thesame way for the same purpose. 

As to the vervain, which we have seen to be associated with rue, this isa plant the use of which against witchcraft was more widely distributed, just as its medical virtues were also more extensively known. Thevervain, indeed, was a sacred plant among the Greeks, as well as amongthe Druids, who gathered it with solemn religious ceremonies, as theydid the sacred mistletoe. Vervain was most esteemed, however, as a lovepotion, but the connection between its virtues in this respect, and itspower over witches and spirits of evil, opens up a branch of inquiryaway from our present purpose. 

We speak of vervain in connection with rue, because it was the 'holyherb, ' just as rue was the 'herb of grace. ' Not only was the vervainsacred among the early Druids, but it acquired an early sanctity amongChristians. Thus the legend runs:

 'All hail, thou holy herb, vervain, Growing on the ground; On the Mount of Calvary There wast thou found! Thou helpest many a grief, And staunchest many a wound; In the name of sweet Jesu, I lift thee from the ground. '

Mr. Thiselton-Dyer says that a wreath of vervain is now presented tonewly-married brides in Germany, but whether this is a survival of thesanctity of the plant, or of its ancient reputation as a love-philtreand charm, is not very clear. 

It is to be feared that vervain has sadly fallen out of favour in thiscountry, although not many years ago a pamphlet was written to recommendthe wearing of vervain tied by white satin ribbon round the neck, aspreservative against evil influences and infection. 

'On the Continent'--rather a wide term--Mr. Hilderic Friend says, 'thethree essential plants for composing a magic wreath are rue, crane's-bill, and willow. ' The crane's-bill is the Herb Robert, or RobinHood, and the willow has always been connected with lovers. Such awreath, then, is made by lovers when they wish to see their 'fate. 'Love-sick maidens will employ such a wreath to find out how long theyhave yet to remain single. They walk backwards towards some selectedtree, and as they walk throw the wreath over their heads until itfastens on one of the branches. Failure to 'catch on' requires anotherbackward walk, and so on--each failure to buckle the tree counting as ayear of spinsterhood. It seems rather an awkward way of getting at thefuture, but if not more blind than other processes of love divination, would at least require the guarantee of the absence of tight-lacingamong the maidens practising it. 

Aristotle mentions the use made by the Greeks of rue as a charm againstevil spirits, and he accounts for it, somewhat singularly, by the habitof the Greeks in not sitting down to table with strangers. Theexplanation is, that when they ate with strangers they were apt tobecome excited and nervous, and so to eat too rapidly, with the resultof flatulence and indigestion. These effects were equivalent tobewitchment, as, indeed, disorders of the digestive organs arefrequently regarded by many Eastern peoples even to this day. As rue wasfound to be an effectual antidote to these distressing symptoms, itbecame a charm against enchantment. 

Among many old-wife recipes for the cure of warts is the use of rue. Most people know the old folk-jingle:

 'Ashen tree, ashen tree, Pray bury these warts of me, '

which has to be accompanied by the thrust of a pin into the bark of thetree. The idea was doubtless to extract the sap, for the application ofthistle-juice and the juice of the ranunculus are said to proveefficacious in removing warts. In Devonshire they use the juice of anapple, but in some parts of the country rue is preferred. Otherwart-curing plants are the spurge, the poppy, the celandine, themarigold, the briony, and the crowfoot. 

As old Michael Drayton remarked:

 'In medicine, simples had the power That none need then the planetary hour To helpe their workinge, they so juiceful were. '

There is a substratum of truth in this, although it requires a widestretch of imagination, as well as a profundity of faith, to believethat consumption can be cured by passing the body of the patient threetimes through a wreath of woodbine cut during the increase of the Marchmoon. Yet to this day some French peasants believe that the curativeproperties of vervain are most pronounced when the plant is gathered, with proper invocations, at a certain phase of the moon. 

The notion that animals are acquainted with the medical properties ofplants is an old one, probably older than either Pliny or Aristotle. Ourown Gerarde, the herbalist, tells that the name celandine was given tothat flower (which Wordsworth loved) from a word meaning swallow, because it is used by swallows to 'restore sight to their young oneswhen their eyes be put out. '

Then Coles, the old botanist, also writes: 'It is known to such as haveskill of Nature what wonderful care she hath of the smallest creatures, giving to them a knowledge of medicine to help themselves, if haplydiseases are among them. The swallow cureth her dim eyes with Celandine:the wesell knoweth well the virtue of Herb Grace: the dove the verven:the dogge dischargeth his mawe with a kind of grass: and too long itwere to reckon up all the medicines which the beasts are known to use byNature's direction only. '

A Warwickshire proverb runs to this effect:

 'Plant your sage and rue together, The sage will grow in any weather, '

the meaning of which is not very clear--but obscurity is a commoncomplaint of rhymed proverbs. Another rhyme, however, in which rueappears, has a more practical note:

 'What savour is better, if physicke be true, For places infected, than wormwood and rue?'

Rue, indeed, seems to have been in special request as a disinfectantlong before carbolic acid was invented, or Condy heard of, yet, perhaps, containing the germ of the idea materialised in 'Sanitas. ' Fordisinfecting purposes wormwood and rue were used sometimes together, andsometimes separately. 

The connection between plants and heraldic badges is often close, andalthough we do not find rue frequent in heraldry, one curious instanceof it is interesting. In 809 an Order was created whereof the collar wasmade of a design in thistles and rue--the thistle because 'being full ofprickles is not to be touched without hurting the skin, ' rue because it'is good against serpents and poison. '

Here we have a suggestion of the lizards of the old oracle quotedabove. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE ROMANCE OF A VEGETABLE. 

There used to be a popular acrostic the foundation of which is thesubject of much speculation. It turned upon two lines of Scott's famouspoem, and ran thus:

 '"Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!" Were the last words of Marmion. Were I in gallant Stanley's place, When Marmion urged him to the chase, A word you then would all espy, That brings a tear to every eye. '

The answer is 'Onion, ' and the speculation which results is: Why does araw onion make the eyes water?

The Greeks, being aware of this characteristic, called the onion_kromuon_; and when they ate it raw, they prudently closed their eyes. 

Shakespeare's players in the Taming of the Shrew knew all about it:

 'If the boy have not a woman's gift, To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift, Which in a napkin, being close conveyed, Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. '

So did Lafeu:

 'Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon. '

So also did Domitius Enobarbus, who comforted Antony, on reporting thedeath of Fulvia, by saying, 'Indeed, the tears live in an onion thatshould water this sorrow, ' and who called himself 'onion-eyed' when theRoman addressed his followers before the battle. 

The fact, then, has been known for centuries, but the explanation onlysince chemistry came to be applied to matters of common life. The onionbelongs to the genus _Allium_, all the species of which possess apeculiar, pungent, acrid juice, with a powerful odour. The garlic has astronger smell than the onion, but the onion has more of the volatileoil which all the members of the genus possess. 

The constituents which make the genus valuable as food are: albumen, sugar, mucilage, phosphate of lime, and certain salts. All the membersof the onion tribe yield a heavy volatile oil when distilled withwater--an oil so pungent and concentrated that an ounce of it willrepresent the essence of forty pounds of garlic. This oil is a compoundof sulphur, carbon, and hydrogen, and is called sulphide of allyl, because of its origin in the allium tribe. It is the more volatile, sulphurous fumes of this oil which ascend as an onion is cut that causethe eyes to water, just as sulphur fumes do anywhere. It is the lessvolatile portion of the oil which gives such permanence and adhesivenessto the onion odour as to render a knife that has been used to cut oneoffensive for a long time afterwards, in spite of washing. 

In the Arabian Nights the purveyor for the Sultan of Casgar tells astory of a man who lost his thumbs and great-toes through eating garlic. This was a youth who had married a beauteous bride, but was unfortunateenough on his marriage-day to eat of a dish strongly flavoured withgarlic. The lady was so annoyed that she ordered the bridegroom to bebound, and his thumbs and toes cut off, as punishment for presuming tocome to her without first purifying his fingers. Ever afterwards theunfortunate husband always washed his hands one hundred and twenty timeswith alkali, after dining off a garlic ragout, for, of course, he didnot use a fork. But had he known Menander the Greek's receipt, he mighthave saved his digits. This was to roast beetroot on hot embers for theremoval of the odour of garlic. 

It might be more generally known that if either walnuts, or raw parsley, be eaten along with onions, the smell of the latter will be destroyed, and digestion of them assisted. 

There is, one must admit, a certain association of vulgarity with theonion. It is a valuable food, and an indispensable accessory to theculinary artist; but as used by many people it is not suggestive ofrefinement. And yet the bulb has not only an honourable character--ithas a sort of sacred history. 

Both Pliny and Juvenal, among old writers, and many Egyptologists of ourown time and country, have recorded that the ancient Egyptiansworshipped the onion. It is true that Wilkinson, who wrote on theManners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians, doubts the evidence ofthis; but he adds that the onion was admitted as a common offering onevery altar, and that the priests were forbidden to eat it. In Ellis'sHistory of Madagascar it is noted that the Malagasy of our time regardthe onion as unclean, and forbidden by the idols. The symbolization ofthe universe in the concentric folds of the onion may be taken as anexplanation of the high reverence in which it was assuredly held by someancient races. 

Whether or not the onion was sacred in Egypt, the garlic, as Herodotustells us, was the daily food of the Egyptian labourer. And the Jews, when they left Egypt, looked back with fondness to these delicacies. 'Weremember the fish which we did eat freely in Egypt, the cucumbers, andthe melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlic, ' so they toldMoses. The onion is still a common food in Egypt, and sometimes almostthe only one of the poorer classes. Moreover, the onions of Egypt aremuch sweeter than, and superior in quality to, those of Europe. It isalso noteworthy that the onion grows coarser and more bitter as it istraced northward. 

Herodotus says that sixteen hundred talents were expended on garlic, onions, and radishes for the workmen during the building of thePyramids; and it is recorded that an onion taken from the sarcophagus ofan Egyptian mummy two thousand years old was planted and made to grow. We have also the authority of Pliny for what he calls the foolishsuperstition of the Egyptians in swearing by garlic and onions, callingthese vegetables to witness when taking an oath. 

Botanists seem now agreed that the original habitat of the onion was themountainous region of Central Asia; and, according to the _Gardener'sChronicle_, it is still found in a wild state in the Himalayas. 

The Mohammedans do not seem to have reverenced the _Allium_ tribe. Onthe contrary, they have a tradition that when Satan stepped out of theGarden of Eden after the fall of man, garlic sprang up where he plantedhis left foot, and onion where he planted his right foot. This is thereason alleged why Mohammed could never bear the smell of either, andeven fainted when he saw them. 

Among the Greeks both onions and garlic were held in high regard, bothas articles of food and as medicaments. Theophrastus wrote a book ononions, as did also Palladius. Then Homer tells that the onion was animportant part of the banquet that Hecamede spread before Nestor andMachaon:

 'Before them first a table fair she spread, Well polished, and with feet of solid bronze; On this a brazen canister she placed, And Onions as a relish to the wine, And pale, clear honey, and pure barley meal. '

Among the Romans the onion seems to have been the common food of thepeople, although Horace could not understand how they digested it. Itsuse for promoting artificial tears was also well understood by them, forColumella speaks of _Lacrymosa cĉpe_, and Pliny of _Cĉpis odorlacrymosus_. Ovid, again, says that both onions and sulphur were givento criminals to purify them from their crimes, upon the old theory ofpurgation by fumigation. The Romans thought not only that the onion gavestrength to the human frame, but that it would also improve thepugnacious quality of their gamecocks. Horace, however, thought thatgarlic was a fit poison for anybody who committed parricide. The EmperorNero, on the other hand, thought that eating leeks improved the humanvoice, and as he was ambitious of being a fine singer, he used to have aleek diet on several days in each month. 

The onion tribe must have been held in reverence elsewhere than inEgypt, for, according to Mr. Thiselton-Dyer, in Poland the flower-stalkof the leek is placed in the hands of Christ in pictures and statues. 

On Halloween, in some parts of the country, girls attempt a method ofdivination by means of a 'Saint Thomas onion. ' They peel it, wrap it upin a clean handkerchief, and, placing it under their heads, repeat thefollowing rhyme:

 'Good St. Thomas, do me right, And see my true love come to-night, That I may see him in the face, And him in my kind arms embrace. '

On the other hand, to dream of an onion is supposed in some parts toforetell sickness. 

Or else:

 'To dream of eating onions means Much strife in the domestic scenes, Secrets found out, or else betrayed, And many falsehoods made and said. '

It is also a portent of the weather:

 'Onion's skin very thin, Mild winter's coming in; Onion's skin thick and tough, Coming winter cold and rough. '

It was the practice in some places to hang up or burn an onion as asafeguard against witchcraft, and the theory of this was that the devilrespected it because it was an ancient object of worship. This seems asurvival of the Egyptian story; but Mr. Hilderic Friend says that theArabs, Chinese, and many other peoples, to this day employ onions, leeks, or garlic for preventing witchcraft, and that he himself hasfrequently seen them tied up with a branch of sago-palm over the doorsof Eastern houses for this purpose. 

The old custom of throwing an onion after a bride is doubtless wellknown. It had the same origin as the old Scotch custom of throwing abesom after a cow on its way to market, to avert the evil-eye, andinsure luck. 

The idea of bad dreams being associated with the onion seems due to theold herbalists. At all events, Coghan wrote in 1596: 'Being eaten raw, they engender all humourous and contemptible putrefactions in thestomacke, and cause fearful dreams, and, if they be much used, theysnarre the memory and trouble the understanding. '

Old Gerarde had no opinion of the medical properties of the tribe. Ofboth leeks and garlic he wrote most disparagingly, as 'yielding to thebody no nourishment at all, ' but 'ingendereth naughty and sharpe bloud. '

Some of the other old herbalists treat it more kindly, and some ascribealmost every virtue to garlic and onion. Garlic came to be known as'Poor Man's Treacle, ' and in some old works is thus often described. Butthe word treacle here has no reference to molasses, and is probablyderived from the Greek _theriakos_, meaning venomous, for garlic wasregarded as an antidote against poison, and as a remedy for the plague. 

Pliny long ago wrote of garlic as a remedy for many of the mental andphysical ailments of the country people. It was used by the Romans todrive away snakes; and the Romans seem to have adopted this idea fromthe ancient Greeks. It was recommended by one old English writer as acapital thing with which to frighten away birds from fruit-trees; andhas been recently recommended, in solution, as the best preservative ofpicture-frames from the defilement of flies. Bacon gravely tells of aman who lived for several days on the smell of onions and garlic alone;and there was an old belief that the garlic could extract all the powerfrom a loadstone. 

The belief that the eating of onions will acclimatize a traveller seemsnot uncommon in Eastern countries. Thus, in Burnes' Travels into Bokharait is recorded that at Peshawur 'Moollah Nujieb suggested that we shouldeat onions in all the countries we visited, as it is a popular beliefthat a foreigner becomes acclimated from the use of that vegetable. '

And in Morier's Travels in Persia it is said: 'Those who seek forsulphur, which is found at the highest accessible point of the mountainof Damarvend, go through a course of training previous to theundertaking, and fortify themselves by eating much of garlic andonions. '

The general explanation given of how the leek became the emblem ofWales, and is worn on St. David's Day, is this: In 640 King Cadwalladergained a complete victory over the Saxons, owing to the specialinterposition of St. David, who ordered the Britons always to wear leeksin their caps, so that they might easily recognise each other. As theSaxons had no such recognisable headmark, they attacked each other asfoes, and aided in their own defeat. 

There is a more poetic story. It is that St. David lived in the valleyof Ewias, in Monmouthshire, spending his time in contemplation:

 'And did so truly fast As he did only drink what crystal Hodney yields, And fed upon the leeks he gathered in the fields, In memory of whom, in each revolving year, The Welshmen, on his day, that sacred herb do wear. '

St. David, however, died in 544, and therefore it is probable that theleek was a common and favourite vegetable in Wales during hislifetime--that is to say, more than thirteen hundred years ago. A stillmore prosaic explanation of the Welsh emblem is sometimes offered. It isthat it originated in a custom of the Welsh farmers when helping eachother in a neighbourly way to take their leeks and other vegetableprovender with them. Now, as the word leek is from the Anglo-Saxon_leac_, which originally meant any vegetable, it is probable enough thatthe Saxons sneeringly applied the word to the Welsh on account of theirvegetarian proclivities. We cannot, of course, be sure that the leek wasworn as a badge in Cadwallader's time, but we have at any rateShakespeare's authority for concluding that it was worn by the Welshsoldiers at the Battle of Poitiers in 1356. 

The phrase 'to eat the leek'--meaning to retract and 'knuckle-under'--issupposed to have originated in that famous scene in Shakespeare's Henrythe Fifth, where Fluellan the Welshman compels Pistol to swallow thevegetable at which he had been expressing such abhorrence. But there isearlier evidence that the leek was regarded as something ignominious inEngland. Thus in Chaucer:

 'The beste song that ever was made Is not worth a leke's blade, But men will tend ther tille. '

Without dwelling on the culinary uses of the onion tribe, which havebeen exhaustively described by others, a few applications, not generallyknown, may be briefly noted. 

In olden times there was a famous ointment called Devil's Mustard, whichwas supposed to cure cancer, remove tumours, and so forth. It was acompound of garlic and olive-oil, and had a smell which was enough tofrighten away any disease--or else to create one. Then the fair damesof old had a favourite cosmetic for the hands and face, and one alsowhich was used as an antiseptic, which was largely composed of garlic. Leek ointment, again, made of pounded leeks and hog's lard, was used asa liniment for burns and scalds. 

It is said that in India, where dyspepsia is common, garlic is found tobe a great palliative. It is in many countries regarded as a sureantidote against contagion; and persons have been known to put a smallpiece in the mouth before approaching the bed of a fever-strickenpatient. Whether it has any real virtue of the kind one may doubt, butlet us hope that it has more than is ascribed to some so-calleddisinfectants--the power to kill one bad smell with another. 

In The Family Dictionary, popular in our grandfathers' time, appears thefollowing certain remedy for the plague: 'Take away the core of anonion, fill the cavity with treacle dissolved or mixed with lemon-juice, stop up the hole with the slice you have cut off, roast the whole on hotashes so long till well incorporated and mixed together, then squeezeout the juice of the roasted onion, and give it to a person seized withthe plague. Let him presently lie down in his bed and be well covered upthat he may perspire. This is a remedy that has not its equal for theplague, provided the patient perspires presently. '

And if it did promote perspiration, one can well believe that it mightbe curative. 

Not only has garlic been esteemed as an antidote to the bite of snakes, but it has also been regarded as a cure for hydrophobia, while onionshave been claimed as a cure for small-pox, and leeks as an antidote forpoisonous fungi. Old Celsus, from whom Paracelsus took his name, regarded several of the onion tribe as valuable in cases of ague, andPliny had the same belief. In our own time the onion is held to be anexcellent anti-scorbutic, and is thought to be more useful on ship-boardthan lime-juice in preventing scurvy. 

In fact, in all skin diseases, and in many inflammatory disorders, preparations of the onion have a real value. The juice is also useful instopping bleeding, although one may hesitate to believe, as waspopularly supposed, that a drop of it will cure earache, and thatpersistent application will remove deafness. 

There still exists, however, a belief that onion-juice is the besthair-restorer in the market, in spite of its disagreeable smell. 

It would take too long to mention all the virtues that have beenclaimed, with more or less reason, for all the members of the _Allium_genus, but it is a curious fact that the onion, which relieves dyspepsiaand aids the digestion of some, is a certain cause of indigestion inothers. Is it not said that Napoleon, who was a martyr to indigestion, lost the Battle of Leipsic through having partaken of a too hurried mealof beefsteak and onions? It is a savoury dish, but has worked woe tomany. One does not wonder that the old writers declared that onionsbrought bad dreams--if they were eaten raw, or badly cooked, at latesupper. 

It is open to grave doubt whether the author of The Family Dictionarywas right in saying that 'they that will eat onions daily will enjoybetter health than otherwise. ' What is one man's meat is another man'spoison; and certainly there is no article in common use which producessuch opposite effects upon the human system as the onion. It has oftenbeen found beneficial to individuals in feverish attacks, and yet themalingerers in our garrison hospitals know well how to promote febrilesymptoms by a hearty consumption of garlic. 

A fitting conclusion to this chapter will be the summary of Sir JohnSinclair, the author of a Code of Health and Longevity:

 'Onyons in physick winneth no consent, To cholerick folke they are no nutriment; By Galen's rule, such as phlegmatic are A stomacke good within them do prepare. Weak appetites they comfort, and the face With cheerful colour evermore they grace, And when the head is naked left of hair, Onyons, being sod or stamp'd, again repair. '

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE STORY OF A TUBER. 

The planting of a tuber by Clusius, in 1588, in the Botanical Gardens atVienna, is often referred to as the introduction of the potato intoEurope. As a matter of fact, however, this was not the first planting, for the Spaniards brought the real potato--_Solanum tuberosum_--home toSpain about 1580. From Spain it extended to Italy, and became at once acommon article of food there. From Spain it also extended to Belgium, and was cultivated there; and it was from a Belgian that Clusius got theroots which he planted at Vienna in 1588. 

Then, again, it has been said that Christopher Columbus was the firstEuropean who ever tasted a potato, and that was in 1492, when he reachedCuba. From Cuba he brought samples back with him to Genoa. This wouldmake our history one hundred years older, only it so happens that the_Solanum tuberosum_ is not a native of these parts, and could not havebeen at Cuba when Columbus was there. What he tasted and brought homewas the _Convolvulus batatas_, or sweet potato, a very differentarticle, although it gave its name, 'batatas, ' to our tuber in themodified form of 'potato. '

The real potato is a native of Chili, and it has been proved to thesatisfaction of naturalists that it did not exist in North Americabefore the arrival of Europeans. How, then, could Sir John Hawkins bringit from Santa-Fé in 1565, or Sir Walter Raleigh from Virginia in 1584?Well, in the first place, it was the sweet potato that Sir John brought;and in the second place, before Sir Walter went to Virginia, theSpaniards had brought there the real potato on returning from some oftheir South American expeditions. In 1580 they sent it home, and thereis evidence that by 1580 the _Solanum tuberosum_ had been planted inNorth America. By the time Raleigh brought it to England, however, itwas already a familiar root in Italy. 

But did he bring it? There are some who say that it was Sir FrancisDrake who brought the roots and presented them to Sir Walter Raleigh, who planted them on his estate near Cork in the year 1594. M'Culloch, however, says that 1610 was the year of the introduction into Ireland, and other writers say that Raleigh knew so little of the virtues of theplant he was naturalizing that he caused the apples, not the tubers, tobe cooked and served upon his own table. Buckle, however, says that thecommon, or Virginian, potato was introduced by Raleigh in 1586, andLyte, who wrote in that year, does not mention the plant; but Gerarde, who published the first edition of his Herbal in 1597, gave a portraitof himself with a potato in his hand. 

Here, then, we have some negative certainties and some positiveuncertainties. Columbus did not take the real potato to Genoa in 1492;Hawkins did not bring it to England in 1565. The Spaniards did take itto Spain in or about 1580; but whether Raleigh was the first to bring itto Britain, and in what year, remains open to doubt. 

During the whole of the seventeenth century the potato was quite ararity in this country, and up to 1684 was cultivated only in thegardens of the gentry. In Scotland it does not seem to have been grownat all, even in gardens, before 1728. Phillips, in the History ofCultivated Vegetables, says that in 1619 the price in England was oneshilling a pound. He further says that great prejudices existed againstit, that it was alleged to be poisonous, and that in Burgundy thecultivation of it was prohibited. 

These early prejudices against the potato are explainable on thesupposition that the people did not know how to cook it, and possiblyate it raw, in which state it is certainly unwholesome, if not actuallypoisonous. Then, again, it belongs to a family of ill-repute, the_Solanacĉ_, of which the deadly nightshade and the mandrake are members, as well as more honoured specimens like the tomato, tobacco, datura, andcayenne-pepper plants. The mandrake, of course, was the subject ofancient dislike, and perhaps it was natural for our superstitiousprogenitors to regard with suspicion any relative of that lugubriousroot. 

Even the tempting appearance of the tomato did not suffice to win favourfor it when first introduced into Europe, until somebody discoveredthat, although undoubtedly sent by the infidels to poison theChristians, the Bon Dieu had interfered, and transformed it into anagreeable and wholesome fruit. 

One meets with two references to the potato in Shakespeare, and theseare said to be the earliest notices of it in English literature. Thus inTroilus and Cressida: 'The devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potatofinger, tickles these together!' In the Merry Wives, Falstaff says: 'Letthe sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the time of Green Sleeves; hailkissing-comfits, and snow Eringoes. '

There are several references in the early dramatists, which the curiousreader may find collected in a note in Steevens's Shakespeare, but whichhardly serve our purpose. There is one reference, however, by Waller, which is interesting:

 'With candy'd plantains and the juicy pine, On choicest melons and sweet grapes they dine, And with potatoes fat their wanton kine, '

because it seems to be the case that, prior to 1588, the Italianpeasants used the potato as food for their pigs as well as forthemselves. 

We are constrained, however, to conclude that Shakespeare and the olddramatists referred to the sweet potato, sometimes called the Spanishpotato. 'Eringoes, ' mentioned by Falstaff, were candied roots. Eringo iscuriously suggestive of 'Gringo, ' which was the name of contempt appliedby the Spaniards to all foreigners, but especially Englishmen. The wordwould seem to have been imported by the gentlemen-adventurers from theSpanish Main, in the time of Good Queen Bess. If we take 'candied roots'in association with 'kissing-comfits, ' we are compelled to conclude thatFalstaff's potato was the 'batatas, ' the sweet, fleshy roots of whichwere described by Columbus to be 'not unlike chestnuts in taste. '

Certain it is that the potato was not regarded in this country as anobject of national importance until 1662, when the Royal Society advisedthat it should be planted. In the history of the Society there is therecord of a recommendation of a committee, dated 1662, urging all theFellows who possessed land to plant potatoes, and persuade their friendsto do the same, 'in order to alleviate the distress that would accompanya scarcity of food. '

In Scotland, the first mention of the potato occurs in the householdbook of the Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth. From Chambers'sTraditions of Edinburgh we learn that the price in 1701 was half-a-crowna peck. Robertson, of Irvine discovered what he thought the earliestevidence of potatoes in Scotland in the household book of the Eglintonfamily. The date of this entry, however, was 1733, and Robert Chambersshowed that the date in the Buccleuch book was thirty-two years earlier. 

Further information is given by the Duke of Argyle in Scotland As ItWas, And As It Is. There we learn that, until long past the middle ofthe eighteenth century, little or nothing was known of the potato inScotland, although in after years it brought about the most prodigiouseffects on the population. The Celts of Ireland first began to use it asan adjunct, and then as a main article of food. From them it passed overto the Celts of the Hebrides, and was introduced into South Uist byMacdonald of Clanranald in 1743. The Highlanders, always suspicious ofnovelties, resisted the use of it for some years; and the neighbouringisland of Bernera was not reached until 1752. It was soon found, however, that the tuber would grow luxuriantly almost anywhere--even onsand, and shingle, and in bogs. It was quickly planted in those patchesof ditched-off land known in the Highlands as 'lazy beds'--a notinappropriate term, which in Ireland is applied to patches of potatoesnot sown in drills. 

In Ireland and in the Highlands it quickly came to be the main food ofthe people during the greater portion of the year; but in the Lowlandsof Scotland, and the rural districts of England, it was only used as afood accessory, though it soon became an important article of commerce. It has often happened that the potato crops have realized higher pricesthan any other product of the farm. 

It has been sometimes stated that the man who planted the first field ofpotatoes in Scotland died within the last forty years. This is an error. The first field planted in the Lowlands was at Liberton Muir, about theyear 1738, by a farmer named Mutter, who died in 1808. An attempt hadbeen made some years earlier by a farm-labourer, named Prentice, nearKilsyth, but not as a farming operation. 

In any case we do not get farther back than about 1730 forpotato-planting in Scotland, whereas in England, by 1684 therecommendations of the Royal Society had been largely adopted, especially in Lancashire, where the first serious beginning seems tohave been made. On the other hand, the cultivation has not extended sorapidly in England as in either Ireland or Scotland. 

The annual crop of Ireland is estimated as, on the average, equal toabout one thousand three hundred and twenty pounds per inhabitant; thatof Scotland, about three hundred and ninety pounds; and that of England, about one hundred and twenty pounds. Germany is the next largestproducer to Ireland, and also the next largest consumer--the crops beingequal to about one thousand and sixty pounds per head. Holland andBelgium each produce about five hundred and eighty pounds, and Franceabout five hundred and fifty pounds, of potatoes per inhabitant perannum. 

It is curious that, although Spain and Italy were the first cultivatorsand users in Europe, the product of each of these countries is now onlyabout fifty-five pounds per head. 

The annual value of the entire potato crop of Europe may be stated atabout one hundred and sixty million pounds; and that of the UnitedKingdom at about one-tenth of this total. That of North America is abouttwenty million pounds more; and it is a curious instance of the vagariesof time that the _Solarium tuberosum_ is now known in America as the'Irish potato, ' to distinguish it from the batatas, or sweet potato. 

All this immense development of cultivation does not complete thetopographical record of our tuber. It has been introduced into India, and is now successfully cultivated both in Bengal and in the MadrasPresidency. It has found a home in the Dutch East Indies and in China;and its tastes and habits are affectionately studied in Australia. Butas in the tropics it has to be grown at an altitude of three thousandfeet, or more, above sea-level, it can never become so common in hotcountries as in Europe. 

It is not only as a food-plant that the potato has secured the respectand affection of mankind. Starch is made from it both for the laundryand for the manufacture of farina, dextrin, etc. The dried pulp fromwhich the starch has been extracted is used for making boxes. From thestem and leaves an extract is made of a narcotic, used to allay pain incoughs and other ailments. In a raw state the potato is used as acooling application for burns and sores. A spirit is distilled from thetuber, which in Norway is called 'brandy, ' and in other places is usedfor mixing with malt and vine liquors. Many of the farinaceouspreparations now so popular in the nursery and sick-room are madelargely of potato-starch; and in some places cakes and puddings are madefrom potato-flour. 

To the potato are also ascribed properties of another kind. The folkloreof the plant is meagre, considering its wide distribution, but there area number of curious superstitions connected with it. In some parts thereis a belief that it thrives best if planted on Maundy Thursday; inothers, that if planted under certain stars it will become watery. InDevonshire the people believe that the potato is a certain cure for thetoothache--not taken internally, but carried about in the pocket. It isby several writers mentioned as a reputed cure for rheumatism in thesame way; only it is prescribed that, in order to be an effective curein such cases, the potato should be stolen. Mr. Andrew Lang mentions aninstance of faith in the practice of this cure, which he came across ina London drawing-room. He regards this belief as a survival of the oldsuperstitions about mandrake, and as analogous to the habit of Africantribes who wear roots round the neck as protection against wild animals. 

The value of the potato as food has been much discussed; but it seems torank next to the plantain, and a long way behind either rice or wheat. The author of the Chemistry of Common Life has pointed to the remarkablephysiological likeness of tribes of people who live chiefly on rice, plantain, and potato. The Hindu, the negro, and the Irishman are allremarkable for being round-bellied, and this peculiarity is ascribed tothe necessity of consuming a large bulk of food in order to obtain therequisite nourishment. 

It is not, of course, the root of the plant which we consume. The tubersknown to the table are the swollen portions of the underground branches, and the so-called 'eyes' are really leaf-buds. It is by cuttings fromthese tubers, however, that the plant is mostly propagated. Aboutthree-fourths of the weight of the potato is water, and this mayexplain the injurious effect which excessive rainfall has on the crops. The disease which attacks the plant, and has been the cause of Irishfamines, past and prospective, is a species of fungus, which firstattacks and discolours the straws, and then spreads downwards to thetubers, increasing the quantity of water in them, reducing the quantityof starch, and converting the albumen into casein. 

When this disease once appears it is apt to spread over wide areas wherethe same climatic influences prevail, and when the disease appears inany strength the crops are rapidly rendered unfit for human food. Thetrouble of the Irish peasantry of the West is that they have noalternative crop to fall back on when the potato fails. Their plots aretoo small for cereals, and they cannot be persuaded to cultivatecabbages and other vegetables along with their tubers. It is thus that, when the day of tribulation comes, the potato appears to be really acurse rather than a blessing to agricultural Ireland. 

There have been frequent projects for reverting to original types--thatis to say, for obtaining a fresh supply of the indigenous plant fromSouth America, and breeding a new stock, as it were. It is a possiblemode of extirpating the disease which may be resorted to. 

The Irish famine of 1847 was due to the failure of the potato crops in1846, preceded by two or three years of bad crops. This failure was dueto disease, and the eating of the diseased tuber brought on apestilence, so that altogether the deaths by starvation and epidemics inthat disastrous period amounted to nearly a million and a quarterpersons. To deal with the distress various sums were voted by Parliamentto the total amount of over ten millions sterling. This was supplementedby private philanthropy in this country, and by generous aid from theUnited States and some European countries. What was the actual moneycost to the world at large of the failure of the Irish potato crop in1846 can never be accurately known; but the amount was so enormous as tocreate a serious economic problem in connection with the homely tuber. 

There have been several partial failures since in Ireland, althoughnothing so extensive as that of 1846, and in 1872 the disease was verybad in England. In that year, indeed, the importation of foreignpotatoes rose to the enormous value of one million six hundred andfifty-four thousand pounds to supply our own deficient crops. In 1876, again, there was great excitement and alarm about the 'Colorado beetle, 'an importation from America, which was destined, it was said, to destroyall our potato-fields. But the beetle proved comparatively harmless, andseems now to have disappeared from these shores. 

The Englishman and Scotchman cannot do without his potato as an adjunct;but the error of the Irishman is in making it the mainstay of his life. The words of Malthus in this connection put the matter in a nutshell, much as he has been abused for his theory of the effects of the potatoon population. 'When the common people of a country, ' he says, 'liveprincipally upon the dearest grain, as they do in England on wheat, they have great resources in a scarcity, and barley, oats, rice, cheapsoups, and potatoes, all present themselves as less expensive, yet, atthe same time, wholesome means of nourishment; but when their habitualfood is the lowest in this scale, they appear to be absolutely withoutresource, except in the bark of trees--like the poor Swedes--and a greatportion of them must necessarily be starved. '

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE CENTRE OF THE WORLD. 

Where is it? 'At Charing Cross, of course, ' says the self-assuredLondoner; and in one sense he may not be far wrong. 'At Boston, ' saysthe cultured inhabitant of the 'hub' of the universe. 'Wherever I am, 'says the autocrat who essays to sway the destinies of nations. Well, weall know the story of the Head of the Table, and even if we did not knowit, instinct would tell us where to look. But the centre of the world, in an actual, physical, racial, and mundanely comprehensive sense--whereis it?

One does not find it so easy to answer the question as did good oldHerodotus, who scouted as absurd the idea of the earth being circular. 'For my own part, ' says the Father of History--and of lies, according tosome people--'I cannot but think it exceedingly ridiculous to hear somemen talk of the circumference of the Earth, pretending without thesmallest reason or probability that the ocean encompasses the Earth, that the Earth is round as if mechanically formed so, and that Asia isequal to Europe. '

Herodotus found no difficulty in describing the figure and size of theportions of the earth whose existence he recognised, but then he said, 'from India eastward the whole Earth is one vast desert, unknown andunexplored. ' And for long after Herodotus, the Mediterranean wasregarded as the central sea of the world, and in the time of Herodotus, Rhodes was accounted the centre of that centre. 

It is very interesting, however, to trace how many centres the world hashad in its time--or rather within the range of written history. The oldEgyptians placed it at Thebes, the Assyrians at Babylon, the Hindus atMount Meru, the Jews at Jerusalem, and the Greeks at Olympus, until theymoved it to Rhodes. There exists an old map in which the world isrepresented as a human figure, and the heart of that figure is Egypt. And there exists, or did exist, an old fountain in Sicily on which wasthis inscription: 'I am in the centre of the garden; this garden is thecentre of Sicily, and Sicily is the Centre of the whole Earth. '

It is a grand thing to be positive in assertion when you are sure ofyour ground, and the builder of this fountain seems to have been sure ofhis. But then other people can be positive too, and in that vast deserteastward of India, imagined by Herodotus, there is the country of China, which calls itself the Middle Kingdom, and the Emperor of which, in aletter to the King of England in this very nineteenth century, announcedthat China is endowed by Heaven as the 'flourishing and central Empire'of the world. 

And yet, once upon a time, according to some old Japanese writings, Japan was known as the Middle Kingdom; and the Persians claimed the sameposition for Persia; and according to Professor Sayce, the old Chaldeanssaid that the centre of the earth was in the heart of the impenetrableforest of Eridu. 

This forest, by the way, was also called the 'holy house of the Gods, 'but it does not seem to have had anything to do with the TerrestrialParadise, the exact location of which Mr. Baring-Gould has laboriouslytried to identify through the legends of the nations. It is a curiousfact that a ninth-century map, in the Strasburg Library, places theTerrestrial Paradise--the Garden of Eden--in that part of Asia we nowknow as the Chinese Empire, and it is also so marked in a map in theBritish Museum. 

In a letter supposed to have emanated from the mysterious if notmythical Prester John, it is written: 'The river Indus which issues outof Paradise flows among the plains through a certain province, and itexpands, embracing the whole province with its various windings. Thereare found emeralds, sapphires, carbuncles, topazes, chrysolites, onyx, beryl, sardius, and many other precious stones. There, too, grows theplant called Asbestos. '

And all this was reported to be just three days' journey from the gardenfrom which Adam was expelled, but as the geographical position of theprovince was not specified the information was a trifle vague. PresterJohn, however, described a wonderful fountain, the virtues of whichcorrespond with those of a well in Ceylon described by Sir JohnMandeville, and this is why some people say that the Garden of Eden wasin the Island of Spices. 

There is a twelfth-century map of the world at Cambridge, which showsParadise on an island opposite the mouth of the Ganges. And in the storyof St. Brandan, the saint reaches an island somewhere 'due east fromIreland, ' which was Paradise, and on which he met with a man who toldhim that a stream--which no living being might cross--flowing throughthe island, divided the world in twain. Another centre!

In an Icelandic story of the fourteenth century are related themarvellous adventures of one Eirek of Drontheim, who, determined to findout the Deathless Land, made his way to Constantinople. There hereceived a lesson in geography from the Emperor. The world, he was told, was precisely one hundred and eighty thousand stages, or about onemillion English miles, round, and is not propped up on posts, but issupported by the will of God. The distance between the earth and heaven, he was told, is one hundred thousand and forty-five miles, and roundabout the earth is a big sea called the ocean. 

'But what is to the south of the earth?' asked the inquisitive Eirek. 

'Oh, ' replied the Emperor, 'the end of the earth is there, and it iscalled India. '

'And where shall I find the Deathless Land?' he inquired; and he wastold that slightly to the east of India lies Paradise. 

Thereupon Eirek and a companion started across Syria, took ship andarrived at India, through which they journeyed on horseback till theycame to a strait which separated them from a beautiful land. Eirekcrossed over and found himself in Paradise, and, strange to say, anexcellent cold luncheon waiting for him. It took him seven years to gethome again, and, as he died soon after his return, the map of the routewas lost. 

Still, Eirek's Paradise may not improbably have been Ceylon. 

The latest location of the Garden of Eden is by a recent traveller inSomaliland, in the north-east shoulder of Africa and south of the Gulfof Aden. This is in the neighbourhood of the country of Prester John, but in its present aspects can by no means be regarded as a TerrestrialParadise. 

Sir John Mandeville's description of the Terrestrial Paradise which hediscovered gives it as the highest place on the earth--so high that thewaters of the Flood could not reach it. And in the very centre of thehighest point is a well, he said, that casts out the four streams, Ganges, Nile, Tigris, and Euphrates--all sacred streams. Now, in theEncyclopĉdia of India it is stated that 'The Hindus at Bikanir Rajputanataught that the mountain Meru is in the centre surrounded by concentriccircles of land and sea. Some Hindus regard Mount Meru as the NorthPole. The astronomical views of the Puranas make the heavenly bodiesturn round it. ' So here again we have a mountain as the terrestrialcentre. 

In the Avesta there is reference to a lofty mountain at the centre ofthe world from which all the mountains of the earth have grown, and atthe summit of which is the fountain of waters, whereby grow twotrees--the Heavenly Soma, and another tree which yields all the seedsthat germinate on earth. From this fountain, according to the Buddhisttradition, flow four streams to the four points of the compass, each ofthem making a complete circuit in its descent. 

This central mountain is the Navel of Waters where originated allmatter, and where sits Yama under the Soma tree--just as in the Norselegend the Norns, or Fates, sit by the great central earth-tree, Yggdrasil. 

According to the Greek tradition, Jupiter, in order to settle the truecentre of the earth, sent out two eagles, one from east and one fromwest. They met on the spot on which was erected the Temple of Delphi, and a stone in the centre of that temple was called the Navel of theWorld. A golden eagle was placed on each side of this stone. The designis preserved in many examples of Greek sculpture, and the stone itselfis mentioned in several of the Greek plays. 

With reference to this, Mr. Lethaby, in his Architecture, Mysticism, andMyth, observes: 'We may see embodied in this myth of the centre-stonethe result of the general direction of thought; as each people werecertainly "the people" first born and best beloved of the gods, so theircountry occupied the centre of the world. It would be related how theoldest and most sacred city, or rather temple, was erected exactly onthe navel. A story like this told of a temple would lead to the markingin the centre of its area the true middle point by a circular stone, astone which would become most sacred and ceremonial in its import. '

And Dr. Schliemann thus writes of a central circle he unearthed in thepalace at Tirynthus: 'In the exact centre of the hall, and thereforewithin the square enclosed by the four pillars, there is found in thefloor a circle of about 3·30 m. Diameter. There can be little doubt thatthis circle indicates the position of the hearth in the centre of themegaron. The hearth was in all antiquity the centre of the house, aboutwhich the family assembled, at which food was prepared, and where theguest received the place of honour. Hence it is frequently indicated bypoets and philosophers as the navel or centre of the house. In theoldest time it was not only symbolically but actually the centre of thehouse, and especially of the megaron. It was only in later days, in thepalaces of the great Romans, that it was removed from the chief roomsand established in a small by-room. '

All which may be true enough, and yet the placing of the hearthstone inthe centre of the house may have had less reference to the earth-centreidea, than to the fact that in the circular huts of primitive man it wasnecessary to have a hole at the apex of the roof. Still, it isinteresting to note that, as in the Imperial palace at Constantinople, so on the floor of St. Peter's at Rome, and elsewhere, is a flatcircular slab of porphyry, associated with all ceremonials. 

Is there any connection between the old central hearthstone and theDillestein--Lid of Hell--one meets with in Grimm?

We have seen that the centre of the world is placed in Europe, in Asia, and in Africa, but who would expect to find it in America many centuriesago? Yet the traditions of Peru have it that Cuzco was founded by thegods, and that its name signifies 'navel'; and traditions of Mexicodescribe Yucatan as 'the centre and foundation' of both heaven andearth. We must, however, go back to the East as the most likely quarterin which to find it, and as the quarter to which the eyes of man havebeen most consistently turned. 

To successive centuries of both Jews and Christians Jerusalem has beenthe centre of the world, and the Temple the centre of Jerusalem. TheTalmud gives directions to those who are in foreign countries to praywith their faces towards the sacred land; to those in Palestine to praywith their faces towards Jerusalem; to those in Jerusalem to pray withtheir faces towards the Mount; to those in the Temple to pray with theirfaces towards the Holy of Holies. Now, this was not merely because thissacred spot was a ceremonial centre, but also because it was regarded asthe geographical centre of the earth. According to the Rabbis the Templewas built on the great central rock of the world. 

It is written in the Talmud: 'The world is like the eyeball of man: thewhite is the ocean that surrounds the wall, the black is the worlditself, and the pupil is Jerusalem, and the image of the pupil is theTemple. ' And again: 'The land of Israel is situated in the centre of theworld, and Jerusalem in the centre of the land of Israel, and the Templein the centre of Jerusalem, and the Holy of Holies in the centre of theTemple, and the foundation-stone on which the world was grounded issituated in front of the ark. ' And once more: 'When the ark was removeda stone was there from the days of the first Prophets. It was calledFoundation. It was three digits above the earth. '

This claim is direct enough, and at Jerusalem to this day in the Dome ofthe Rock, supposed to occupy the site of Solomon's Temple, is a barestone which, as Sir Charles Warren was assured, rests on the top of apalm-tree, from the roots of which issue all the rivers of the world. The Mohammedans have accepted this same stone as the foundation-stone ofthe world, and they call it the Kibleh of Moses. It is said that Mahometonce intended making this the sacred centre of Islam, instead of Mecca, but changed his mind, and predicted that at the Last Day the blackstone--the Kaabah--will leave Mecca and become the bride of theFoundation-stone at Jerusalem. So that there can be no possible doubt ofthe centre of sacred influences. 

Concerning the stone at Jerusalem, Professor Palmer says: 'This Sakhrahis the centre of the world, and on the day of resurrection--it issupposed--the Angel Israfil will stand upon it to blow the last trumpet. It is also eighteen miles nearer heaven than any other place in theworld, and beneath it is the source of every drop of sweet water thatflows on the face of the earth. It is supposed to be suspendedmiraculously between heaven and earth. The effect upon the spectators, however, was so startling, that it was found necessary to place abuilding round it and conceal the marvel. '

According to Hittite and Semitic traditions mentioned by Professor Sayceand Professor Robertson Smith, there was a chasm in this central spotthrough which the waters of the Deluge escaped. 

Right down to and through the Middle Ages Jerusalem was regarded by allChristians as the centre of the world; sometimes as the navel of theearth; and sometimes as the middlemost point of heaven and earth. TheHereford map of the thirteenth century, examined by Mr. Lethaby, showsthe world as a plane circle surrounded by ocean, round whose borders arethe eaters of men, and the one-eyed, and the half-men, and those whoseheads do grow beneath their shoulders. 'Within this border we findeverything the heart could desire; the sea is very red, the pillars ofHercules are pillars indeed; there is the Terrestrial Paradise enclosedby a battlemented wall, and unicorns, manticoras, salamanders, and otherbeasts of fascinating habits are clearly shown in the lands where theylive. The centre of all is Jerusalem, a circular walled court, withinwhich again is a smaller circle, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. '

Even when the earth was recognised as a sphere, the idea of Jerusalembeing the centre was not given up. Dante held to it, and veracious SirJohn Mandeville endeavoured thus to explain away the difficulty: 'Ingoing from Scotland or from England towards Jerusalem, men go alwaysupwards, for our land is in the low part of the earth towards the west;and the land of Prester John is in the low part of the world towards theeast; and they have the day when we have the night, and on the contrarythey have the night when we have the day; for the earth and sea are of around form, and as men go upward towards one point they go downward toanother. Also you have heard me say that Jerusalem is in the middle ofthe world; and that may be proved and shown there by a spear which isfixed in the earth at the hour of midday, when it is equinoctial, whichgives no shadow on any side. ' Ingenious, if not convincing!

The Greek Church still regard Jerusalem as the middle of the world, andMr. Curzon tells that in their portion of the Holy Sepulchre they have amagnificently decorated interior, in the centre of which is a globe ofblack marble on a pedestal, under which, they say, the head of Adam wasfound, and which they declare to be the exact centre of the globe. 

The Mohammedans generally, however, regard the Kaabah at Mecca as--forthe present, at any rate--the true centre. This stone is supposed tohave been lowered directly from heaven, and all mosques are built tolook towards it. Even in the modern schools of Cairo, according to Mr. Loftie, the children are taught that Mecca is the centre of the earth. 

The Samaritans, however, look upon Gerizim as the holy mountain andcentre of the religious and geographical world. And the Babyloniansregarded the great Temple of Bel, according to Professor Sayce, as thehouse of the Foundation Stone of Heaven and Earth. 

Gaya, again, is the Mecca of the Buddhists, where Buddha sat under thetree when he received enlightenment. This tree is the Bodhi treedescribed by Buddhist writers as surrounded by an enclosure rather of anoblong than of a square shape, but with four gates opening to the fourcardinal points. In the middle of the enclosure is the diamond thronewhich a voice told Buddha he would find under a Pipal tree, whichdiamond throne is believed to be of the same age as the earth. 'It isthe middle of the great Chiliocosm; it goes down to the limits of thegolden wheel and upwards it is flush with the ground. It is composed ofdiamonds; in circuit it is a hundred paces or so. It is the place wherethe Buddhas attain the sacred path of Buddhahood. When the great earthis shaken this spot alone is unmoved. When the true law decays and diesit will be no longer visible. '

According to Sir Monier Williams, a stone marked with nine concentriccircles is shown at Gaya as the diamond throne, and the Chiliocosm isnot the centre of the world alone but of the Universe. 

But in China, also a land of Buddhists, we find another centre, and inIndia there is an iron pillar at Delhi, dating from the fourth century, supposed by the Brahmans to mark the centre from their point of view. And in Southern India the Tamils have the Temple of Mandura, in theinnermost sanctuary of which a rock comes through the floor, the rootsof which are said to be in the centre of the earth. 

The Indian Buddhists, of course, denied that China could be the MiddleKingdom, as the place where Buddha lived must necessarily be the centre. Nevertheless, the centre is now found by Chinese Buddhists in the Templeof Heaven at Pekin, where is one circular stone in the centre of circlesof marble terraces, on which the Emperor kneels surrounded bycircles--including that of the horizon--and believes himself to be inthe Centre of the Universe and inferior only to Heaven. 

But in the sixth century a certain Chinese traveller, called Sung-Yun, went to India for Buddhist studies, and he made his way by the Pamirs, the watershed of the great Asiatic rivers Indus and Oxus. And of thiscountry he wrote:

'After entering the Tsung Ling mountains, step by step, we crept upwardsfor four days, and reached the highest point of the range. From thispoint as a centre, looking downwards, it seemed just as though we werepoised in mid-air. Men say that this is the middle point of heaven andearth. '

This was written more than thirteen hundred years ago, and men to-daystill call this part of Asia the Roof of the World. 

INDEX. 

INDEX. 

 A

 Aaron's rod, 25

 Ĉschines, 18

 Agricola, 29

 Albertus, 84

 Animal instinct of cure by plants, 161

 Anthropomorphon, 84

 Architecture, Mysticism and Myth, 193

 Ahmed, Prince, 42

 Aristotle, 153

 Arthurian legends, 23

 Asterodia, 2

 Australian legends, 8, 20, 21

 B

 Baaras, root of, 80

 Bacchus, 73

 Bacon, 68, 85

 Baring-Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, 37-39, 60, 61, 88

 Barth, 52

 Benjamin's sack, 49

 Beryl, the, 48 the spirits of the, 48

 Bhása, 71

 Bion's Lament, 124

 Black Kaspar, 48

 Bodhi Tree, 199

 Book of Days, 73, 75

 Brand's Popular Antiquities, 97, 100, 107

 Breton legends, 8

 British Guiana legends, 8-20

 Britomart, 50

 Browne, Sir Thomas, 28, 29, 83

 Browning's, Mrs. , Dead Pan, 80

 Buddha's foot, 11

 'Bull-roarer, ' the, 17, 18

 Bushman legend, 63

 C

 Cagliostro, 51

 Cain in the Moon, 62

 Cambuscan's mirror, 49

 Camelon, 27

 Capnomancy, 13

 Cat and the Well, 6

 Catoptromancy, 50

 Celestial Paradise, 189

 Chaldĉo-Babylonian legends, 92

 Chaucer, 49, 62

 Chinese legends, 20, 95

 Cingalese legends, 11

 Circaea, or Enchanter's Nightshade, 81

 Circe, 82

 Cleopatra, 79

 Clover leaf, the, 130

 Coles' Art of Simpling, 86

 Columbus, 107

 Columella, 84

 Conway's Demonology, etc. , 24, 71, 72, 85, 95

 Cornish legends, 66-103

 Cox and Jones's Tales of Teutonic Lands, 2, 3, 7, 9

 Cronus, 8, 9, 20

 Crusade legends, 129, 136

 Crusades, the, 13, 93

 Cupid, 124

 D

 Danae, 5

 Dante, 62

 Davy Jones, 114

 Dawn Myths, 2, 5, 6

 Dee's, Dr. , Spherical Speculum, 48, 50

 De Gubernatis, 72

 Dekker's Wonderful Year, 147

 Delphi, 19

 Demeter, 19

 Demosthenes, 18

 Dessoir, Max, 56

 Devil's Kettles, 95

 Devil's Punch-bowls, 95

 Devonian legends, 65, 122, 127

 Dioscorides, 134

 Divination by smoke, 15

 Divining-rod, the, 30-32

 Dove and the ark, 24

 'Duffy, ' 114

 Dutch legend, 96

 E

 Earth-man, 79

 Eden, the Garden of, 190 Eastern idea of, 191 Icelandic idea of, 191 Mandeville's, Sir J. , 192 Somaliland, 192 Prester John's, 190

 Ellacombe's Plant-Lore of Shakespeare, 149

 Endymion, 72

 Esquimo legend, 67

 Esthonian legend, 73

 Eucharist, the, 24

 F

 Fairy-lore, 12, 13

 'Fairy-ring, ' the, 12

 Feast of Demeter, 16

 Fian, Dr. , 27

 Fleur de lys, the, 130

 Flying Dutchman, the, 96

 Folk-lore methods, 15, 16 Bible, 88

 Friend's Flowers and Flower-Lore, 147

 G

 Ganymede, 67

 Gargantua, legend of, 8

 Garlic (or 'Poor Man's Treacle'), Pliny on, 170 Bacon on, 170 Eastern belief in, 170, 173

 Garrett's Dictionary of India, 89

 Gaya and Buddha, 199

 Gerarde's Herball (1597), 81, 128

 Gerizim, 199

 German legends, 60, 93, 94

 Gesta Romanorum, 42

 Glam (the moon), 72

 Goldsmith's Citizen of the World, 50

 'Good folks, ' 12

 Goodrich's, Miss, experiments in crystal-reading, 53-55

 Gordon-Cumming's, Miss, Wanderings in China, 64

 Greek legends, 3, 4, 10, 19, 21, 60, 67, 82, 127

 Grimm, Fairy Tales, 6, 66, 129

 H

 Hades, 19

 Hamlet, 41

 Harpocrates, 124

 Hartmann, Dr. Franz, 46

 Hephaistos, 2

 Hera, 19

 Hermes, 82

 Herodotus, 29, 30, 63, 73

 Hesiod, 9

 Highland superstitions, 10, 12, 13

 Hindu legends, 20, 68, 71

 Holcroft, the actor, 116

 Holinshed, 27

 Holy Spirit, symbol of the, 24

 Homa, 87, 88

 'Hot-cross buns, ' 77

 Hussin, 6

 Hutton's Jacob's Rod, 39

 Hydra, the, 93

 I

 Icelandic legend, 95

 'Ink-pool, ' the, 48

 Israfil, 196

 J

 Jack and Jill, 61

 Jacques Aymar of Lyons, story of, 37, 38

 Jacob Boehme's tin cup, 49

 Jamieson, Dr. , and the Moon, 60

 Jason and the Golden Fleece, 21

 Jewish legends, 60, 90

 Jobson, Richard (divining-rod), 34

 Jonah, 115

 Jonson's Tale of a Tub, 145

 Josephus, 65, 81

 Judas Iscariot, 62, 107

 K

 Kaabah-stone, 198

 Kaffir legend, 20

 Kingsley's Water-Babies, 105, 111

 L

 Lane's Magician, 51

 Lang's Custom and Myth, etc. , 4, 8, 14, 17, 21, 30, 34, 66, 82

 Lao's looking-glass, 50

 Leek, the, in Welsh tradition, 171

 Legends: Australian, 8, 20, 21 Breton, 8 Bushman, 63 Ceylon, 11 Chaldĉo-Babylonian, 92 Chinese, 20, 95 Cornish, 66, 103 Devonian, 65, 122, 127 Dutch, 96 Eskimo, 67 Esthonian, 73 German, 60, 93, 94 Greek, 3, 4, 10, 19, 21, 50, 67, 82, 127 Highland, 12 Hindu, 20, 68, 71 Icelandic, 95 Jewish, 60, 90 Kaffir, 20 Lenormant, François, 93 Lid of Hell, 195 Malay, 8 Maori, 62, 63 North American, 8, 62 of British Guiana, 8, 20 of St. Cecilia, 129 of St. David, 171 of St. Patrick, 131 of St. Peter, 109 of the Crusaders, 129, 136 Persian, 125 Roman, 124 Russian, 94, 110 Scandinavian, 61 Sicilian, 73 Syrian, 93 Talmudic, 92 Zulu, 8

 Lethaby on Architecture and Myths, 193

 Levi, house of, 25

 Lhasis, 80

 Lien Chi Altangi, 50

 Lilly, John, 59

 Linnĉus, story of, 33

 Lotus legends, 128 the Buddhist, 127 the Egyptian, 128

 Lucian, 59

 Luna, 63, 73

 M

 Magic, 23

 Magellan, 107

 Malay legends, 8

 Mandrake, the, 78, 83 anthropomorphon, 84 or Devil's Apple, 85 or Stone Apple, 85

 Mandura, 200

 Maori legends, 62, 63

 Mecca, 198

 Medea, 67

 Merlin's mirror, 49

 Michael Scott, 11

 Middle Kingdom, the, according to Herodotus, 189 Eastern idea of, 189, 197, 200 Jewish tradition of, 196 Jupiter's, 193 Mecca, the, 199 Mexican tradition of, 195 Prester John, 198

 Midsummer Night's Dream, 62

 Milbanke, Lady, 39

 Mister Storm-Along, 119

 Mohammed, legend of, 126

 Moonfolk, Lucian's, 59

 Moon-lore, Australian, 67 Bushman, 67 Egyptian, 67 English, 70, 74, 76 Eskimo, 67 Greek, 67, 87 Maori, 67 North American Indian, 67 South African, 67

 Moon, the, 2, 58

 Moon-worship, 76

 Moonwort, 153, 154 Conway, Moncure, 155 Culpeper, 154 in Divine Weekes, 154 in legend, 153

 Moses' rod, 25, 26, 29

 Mother Carey's chickens, 97, 104, 109

 Müller, Max, 9

 Mythology, Chinese, 63 Eskimo, 63 German, 133 Greek, 10, 78, 121 Hindu, 63, 87 Scandinavian, 116 Vedic, 72

 N

 Nautical superstitions, 98, 100

 Navel of the World, 193

 Nebuchadnezzar, 28

 Neptune, 93

 Nether Lochaber, 12

 Nikke, 96

 North American legends, 8, 62

 O

 Odin, 73

 Odysseus, 82

 Old Nick, 93

 Onion among the Romans, 167 as food, 164 Homer on, 167 in The Arabian Nights, 165 Juvenal on, 165 Malagasy use of, 166 Mohammedan legends of, 167 myths, 168, 169 Napoleon and, 174 of the Greeks, 163, 165 of Herodotus, 166 Pliny on, 165, 167 Shakespeare on, 163 Sinclair, Sir J. , on, 175

 Ophelia, 148

 Othello, 80

 P

 Paracelsus's magic mirror, 43, 44

 Paradise, the Garden of, 190

 Parkinson the Herbalist, 151

 Penelope, 49

 Persian legend, 125

 Peter the Hermit, 13

 Pharaoh, 25

 Pleiades, the, 21

 Pliny, 132

 Plutarch, 73

 Pope Leo X. , 107

 Poseidon, 19

 Potato, the, as food, 184 Buckle on, 177 Christopher Columbus and, 176 folklore of, 183 Gerarde on, 177 in Scotland and Ireland, 181 in Shakespeare, 179 introduction into Europe, 176 Sir Francis Drake and, 177

 Prince Zeyn Alasnam, story of, 42

 Proctor, R. A. , 60

 Prose Edda, 71

 Prospero, 70

 Pryce's Mineralogia Cornubiensis, 32

 Pseudosia Epidemica, 83

 Pyromancy, 47

 Pythagoras, 84

 R

 Rashi, 77

 Red Riding Hood, 5, 6

 Rhabdomancy, 28, 39

 Rhea, 19

 Riley's Book of Days, 64

 Rink, Dr. , 63

 Rod, Moses', 25, 26 of the house of Levi, 25 the, 23 the divining, 30, 32

 Roman legend, 124

 Romeo and Juliet, 79

 Rona in the Moon, 62

 Roof of the World, the, 100

 Rosemary, 123

 Roses, Feast of the, 125

 Rue as a disinfectant, 162 as salad, 152 derivation of, 150 in Aristotle, 153, 159 in Drayton, 153 in Ellacombe's Plant-Lore of Shakespeare, 149 in French perfumery, 152 in Milton, 151 in Parkinson, 151 in Pliny, 157 in Shakespeare, 149, 153 in Spenser, 151 in Warburton's works, 152

 Ruskin's Queen of the Air, 4

 Russian legend, 94, 110

 Ruth, 150

 Ryence, King, 50

 S

 St. Brandan, 117

 St. Cecilia, legend of, 129

 St. Christophoros, story of, 26

 St. David, legends of, 171

 St. David's Day, origin of, 171

 St. Joseph, legend of, 127

 St. Nicholas, 93

 St. Patrick, 131

 St. Peter, legend of, 109

 St. Peter's Day, 110

 St. Ursula, 2, 3

 Satan, 79, 85

 Saturn, 8, 19, 20

 Scandinavian legend, 61

 Schliemann, Dr. , 194

 Sea chanties, 119, 120

 Septuagint, the, 49

 Shakespeare, 2, 62, 79

 Sharpe, Charles Kirkpatrick, 92

 Shelvocke's voyages, 106

 Shew Stone, 50

 Sicilian legend, 73

 Sidney, Sir Philip, 72

 Solomon's Temple, 196

 Soma, 63, 87, 89, 90, 193

 Song of Sixpence, 5

 Sorcerer's Root, 78

 Spring Myths, 10

 Stormy petrel, 99

 Sung-Yun and the Pamirs, 200

 Superstitions: Accadian, 16 Aztec, 16 Bushmen, 21 Chinese, 75 Greek, 16 Highland, 10, 12 Jewish, 16, 76 Nautical, 98, 100, 117 Peruvian, 16 Red Indian, 16, 20 Sicilian, 16

 Syrian legend, 92

 T

 Talmudic legend, 92

 Tannhäuser, 3

 Tylor's Primitive Culture, 5, 65

 Tempest, the, 70

 Theal's Kaffir Folklore, 18

 Thiselton-Dyer, 31, 34, 64, 78, 100, 131, 145

 Thistle, the, 132 Stewart, Dr. , on, 135 of Dioscorides, 134

 Timbs, 79

 True Thomas of Ercildoune, 3

 Tûtenganahaû, story of, 20

 Tweed, the, 10

 Tylor, 6, 65

 Typhoeus, 117

 U

 Ulysses, 42

 Urim and Thummim, 49

 V

 Vampire, the, 70

 Vedic Agni, 2

 Venus, 30

 Venus's looking-glass, 49

 Verne, Jules, 59

 Vervain of the Druids, 158 Friend on the, 159 of the Greeks, 158 Thiselton-Dyer on, 158

 Virgin Mary, 106

 Von Bülow's Christian Legends of Germany, 26

 Vulcan's mirror, 49

 W

 Warburton, 152

 Warts, the cure of, 160

 'White Rose Day, ' 125

 Winslow, Forbes, 76

 Winter's Tale, The, 149

 Winter Myths, 10

 Witches' broom, the, 70

 Witches' Mannikin, 78

 Wolf and Seven Little Kids, 6, 7, 9, 66

 Wurmbrand's Visionen im Wasserglass, 53

 Y

 Yama, 193

 Yggdrasil, 193

 Z

 Zafarana, 73

 Zeus, 19, 67

 Zillah, legend of, 126

 Zulu legend, 8

_Elliot Stock, 62, Paternoster Row, London. _

Footnotes:

[1] Farrer: Primitive Manners. 

[2] Lang: Custom and Myth. 

[3] Lang. 

[4] See Custom and Myth. 

[5] In 'The Cruel Brother: A Tragedy. '

 * * * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. 

The misprint "Lihgtning" was corrected to "Lightning" (page 68). 

The misprint "Catroptromancy" was corrected to "Catoptromancy" (index). 

Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation have been retained from the original. 

Additional spacing after some of the quotes is intentional to indicateboth the end of a quotation and the beginning of a new paragraph aspresented in the original text.