{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_47053/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_47053","id":"gutenberg_47053","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47053","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore","Superstition"],"text":"DOMESTIC FOLK-LORE.\n\n                      BY\n\n     REV. T. F. THISELTON DYER, M.A., OXON.,\n\n    _Author of \"British Popular Customs\" and\n             \"English Folk-lore.\"_\n\n\n         CASSELL, PETTER, GALPIN & CO.:\n          _LONDON, PARIS & NEW YORK._\n\n\n            [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nFor the name \"Folk-lore\" in its present signification, embracing the\nPopular Traditions, Proverbial Sayings, Superstitions, and Customs\nof the people, we are in a great measure indebted to the late editor\nof _Notes and Queries_--Mr. W. J. Thoms--who, in an anonymous\ncontribution to the _Athen\u00e6um_ of 22nd August, 1846, very aptly\nsuggested this comprehensive term, which has since been adopted as\nthe recognised title of what has now become an important branch of\nantiquarian research.\n\nThe study of Folk-lore is year by year receiving greater attention,\nits object being to collect, classify, and preserve survivals of\npopular belief, and to trace them as far as possible to their\noriginal source. This task is no easy one, as school-boards and\nrailways are fast sweeping away every vestige of the old beliefs\nand customs which, in days gone by, held such a prominent place in\nsocial and domestic life. The Folk-lorist has, also, to deal with\nremote periods, and to examine the history of tales and traditions\nwhich have been handed down from the distant past and have lost\nmuch of their meaning in the lapse of years. But, as a writer in\nthe _Standard_ has pointed out, Folk-lore students tread on no\nman's toes. \"They take up points of history which the historian\ndespises, and deal with monuments more intangible but infinitely more\nancient than those about which Sir John Lubbock is so solicitous.\nThey prosper and are happy on the crumbs dropped from the tables of\nthe learned, and grow scientifically rich on the refuse which less\nskilful craftsmen toss aside as useless. The tales with which the\nnurse wiles her charge asleep provide for the Folk-lore student a\nsucculent banquet--for he knows that there is scarcely a child's\nstory or a vain thought that may not be traced back to the boyhood of\nthe world, and to those primitive races from which so many polished\nnations have sprung.\"\n\nThe field of research, too, in which the Folk-lorist is engaged is\na most extensive one, supplying materials for investigation of a\nwidespread character. Thus he recognises and, as far as he possibly\ncan, explains the smallest item of superstition wherever found, not\nlimiting his inquiries to any one subject. This, therefore, whilst\nenhancing the value of Folk-lore as a study, in the same degree\nincreases its interest, since with a perfect impartiality it lays\nbare superstition as it exists among all classes of society. Whilst\ncondemning, it may be, the uneducated peasant who places credence in\nthe village fortune-teller or \"cunning man,\" we are apt to forget\nhow oftentimes persons belonging to the higher classes are found\nconsulting with equal faith some clairvoyant or spirit-medium.\n\nHence, however reluctant the intelligent part of the community may be\nto own the fact, it must be admitted that superstition, in one form\nor another, dwells beneath the surface of most human hearts, although\nit may frequently display itself in the most disguised or refined\nform. Among the lower orders, as a writer has observed, \"it wears its\nold fashions, in the higher it changes with the rapidity of modes\nin fashionable circles.\" Indeed, it is no matter of surprise that\nsuperstition prevails among the poor and ignorant, when we find the\naffluent and enlightened in many cases quite as ready to repose their\nbelief in the most illogical ideas.\n\nIn conclusion, we would only add that the present little volume has\nbeen written with a view of showing how this rule applies even to the\ndaily routine of Domestic Life, every department of which, as will be\nseen in the following pages, has its own Folk-lore.\n\n                                       T. F. THISELTON DYER.\n\n    _Brighton, May, 1881._\n\n\n\n\n    CONTENTS.\n\n\n    CHAPTER I.\n\n    BIRTH AND INFANCY.                                          PAGE\n\n    Value of Superstitions--Lucky Days and Hours of Birth--The\n    Caul--The Changeling--The Evil Eye--\"Up and not\n    Down\"--Rocking the Empty Cradle--Teeth, Nails, and\n    Hands--The Maple and the Ash--Unchristened Children            1\n\n\n    CHAPTER II.\n\n    CHILDHOOD.\n\n    Nursery Literature--The Power of Baptism--Confirmation--Popular\n    Prayers--Weather Rhymes--School Superstitions--Barring\n    out                                                           16\n\n\n    CHAPTER III.\n\n    LOVE AND COURTSHIP.\n\n    Love-tests--Plants used in Love-charms--The Lady-bird--The\n    Snail--St. Valentine's Day--Midsummer Eve--Hallowe'en--Omens\n    on Friday                                                     23\n\n\n    CHAPTER IV.\n\n    MARRIAGE.\n\n    Seasons and Days propitious to Marriage--Superstitions connected\n    with the Bride--Meeting a Funeral--Robbing the Bride of\n    Pins--Dancing in a Hog's Trough--The Wedding-cake--The Ring   36\n\n\n    CHAPTER V.\n\n    DEATH AND BURIAL.\n\n    Warnings of Death--The Howling of Dogs--A Cow in the\n    Garden--Death-presaging Birds--Plants--The Will-o'-the-Wisp--The\n    Sympathy between Two Personalities--Prophecy--Dying\n    Hardly--The Last Act--Place and Position of the Grave         48\n\n\n    CHAPTER VI.\n\n    THE HUMAN BODY.\n\n    Superstitions about Deformity, Moles, &c.--Tingling of the\n    Ear--The Nose--The Eye--The Teeth--The Hair--The\n    Hand--Dead Man's Hand--The Feet                               65\n\n\n    CHAPTER VII.\n\n    ARTICLES OF DRESS.\n\n    New Clothes at Easter and Whitsuntide--Wearing of Clothes--The\n    Clothes of the Dead--The Apron, Stockings, Garters, &c.--The\n    Shoe--The Glove--The Ring--Pins                               81\n\n\n    CHAPTER VIII.\n\n    TABLE SUPERSTITIONS.\n\n    Thirteen at Table--Salt-spilling--The Knife--Bread, and other\n    Articles of Food--Wishing Bones--Tea-leaves--Singing before\n    Breakfast--Shaking Hands across the Table                    100\n\n\n    CHAPTER IX.\n\n    FURNITURE OMENS.\n\n    Folk-lore of the Looking-glass--Luck of Edenhall--\n    Clock-falling--Chairs--Beds--The Bellows                     111\n\n\n    CHAPTER X.\n\n    HOUSEHOLD SUPERSTITIONS.\n\n    Prevalence and Continuity of Superstitions--Sneezing--\n    Stumbling--A Whistling Woman--Sweeping--Breaking\n    Crockery--Fires and Candles--Money--Other Superstitions      120\n\n\n    CHAPTER XI.\n\n    POPULAR DIVINATIONS.\n\n    Bible and Key--Dipping--Sieve and Shears--Crowing of the\n    Cock--Spatulamancia--Palmistry and Onymancy--Look-divination--\n    Astrology--Cards--Casting Lot--Tea-stalks                    134\n\n\n    CHAPTER XII.\n\n    COMMON AILMENTS.\n\n    Charm-remedies--For Ague--Bleeding of the Nose--Burns--Cramp--\n    Epilepsy--Fits--Gout--Headache, &c.                          148\n\n\n    CHAPTER XIII.\n\n    MISCELLANEOUS HOUSEHOLD LORE.\n\n    Horse-shoes--Precautions against Witchcraft--The Charmer--Second\n    Sight--Ghosts--Dreams--Nightmare                             169\n\n\n    INDEX                                                        181\n\n\n\n\nDOMESTIC FOLK-LORE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nBIRTH AND INFANCY.\n\n    Value of Superstitions--Lucky Days and Hours of Birth--The\n    Caul--The Changeling--The Evil Eye--\"Up and not Down\"--Rocking\n    the Empty Cradle--Teeth, Nails, and Hands--The Maple and the\n    Ash--Unchristened Children.\n\n\nAround every stage of human life a variety of customs and\nsuperstitions have woven themselves, most of which, apart from\ntheir antiquarian value, as having been bequeathed to us from the\nfar-off past, are interesting in so far as they illustrate those\nold-world notions and quaint beliefs which marked the social and\ndomestic life of our forefathers. Although, therefore, many of these\nmay appear to us meaningless, yet it must be remembered that they\nwere the natural outcome of that scanty knowledge and those crude\nconceptions which prevailed in less enlightened times than our own.\nProbably, if our ancestors were in our midst now, they would be able\nin a great measure to explain and account for what is often looked\nupon now-a-days as childish fancy and so much nursery rubbish. In\nthe present chapter it is proposed to give a brief and general\nsurvey of the folk-lore associated with birth and infancy, without,\nhowever, entering critically into its origin or growth, or tracing\nits transmigration from one country to another. Commencing, then,\nwith birth, we find that many influences are supposed to affect the\nfuture fortune and character of the infant. Thus, in some places\ngreat attention is paid to the day of the week on which the child is\nborn, as may be gathered from the following rhyme still current in\nCornwall:--\n\n    \"Sunday's child is full of grace,\n    Monday's child is full in the face,\n    Tuesday's child is solemn and sad,\n    Wednesday's child is merry and glad,\n    Thursday's child is inclined to thieving,\n    Friday's child is free in giving,\n    Saturday's child works hard for his living\"--\n\na piece of folk-lore varying, of course, in different localities. By\ngeneral consent, however, Sunday is regarded as a most lucky day for\nbirth, both in this country and on the Continent; and according to\nthe \"Universal Fortune-teller\"--a book very popular among the lower\nclasses in former years--\"great riches, long life, and happiness\" are\nin store for those fortunate beings born on Sunday, while in Sussex\nthey are considered safe against drowning and hanging. Importance\nis also attached to the hour of birth; and the faculty of seeing\nmuch that is hidden from others is said to be granted to children\nborn at the \"chime hours,\" _i.e._, the hours of three, six, nine, or\ntwelve--a superstition found in many parts of the Continent. There\nis, too, an idea prevalent in Germany that when a child is born\nin leap-year either it or its mother will die within the course of\nthe year--a notion not unknown in our own country. Again, from time\nimmemorial various kinds of divination have been in use for the\npurpose of discovering the sex of an infant previous to its birth.\nOne of these is by means of a shoulder-of-mutton bone, which, after\nthe whole of the flesh has been stripped clean off, must be hung up\nthe last thing at night over the front door of the house. On the\nfollowing morning the sex of the first person who enters, exclusive\nof the members of the household, indicates the sex of the child.\n\nWe will next turn to some of the countless superstitions connected\nwith the new-born child. A highly popular one refers to the caul--a\nthin membrane occasionally found covering the head at birth, and\ndeemed specially lucky, as indicating, among other things, that the\nchild will never be drowned. It has been, in consequence, termed\nthe \"holy\" or \"fortunate hood,\" and great care is generally taken\nthat it should not be lost or thrown away, for fear of the death or\nsickness of the child. This superstitious fancy was very common in\nthe primitive ages of the Church, and St. Chrysostom inveighs against\nit in several of his homilies. The presence of a caul on board ship\nwas believed to prevent shipwreck, and owners of vessels paid a large\nprice for them. Most readers will, no doubt, recollect how Thomas\nHood wrote for his early work, \"Whims and Oddities,\" a capital ballad\nupon this vulgar error. Speaking of the jolly mariner who confidently\nput to sea in spite of the ink-black sky which \"told every eye a\nstorm was soon to be,\" he goes on to say--\n\n    \"But still that jolly mariner\n      Took in no reef at all;\n    For in his pouch confidingly\n      He wore a baby's caul.\"\n\nIt little availed him, however; for as soon as the storm in ruthless\nfury burst upon his frail bark, he\n\n      \"Was smothered by the squall.\n    Heaven ne'er heard his cry, nor did\n      The ocean heed his _caul_!\"\n\nAdvocates also purchased them, that they might be endued with\neloquence, the price paid having often been from twenty to thirty\nguineas. They seem to have had other magical properties, as Grose\ninforms us that any one \"possessed of a caul may know the state of\nhealth of the person who was born with it. If alive and well, it is\nfirm and crisp; if dead or sick, relaxed and flaccid.\" In France the\nluck supposed to belong to a caul is proverbial, and _\u00eatre n\u00e9 coiff\u00e9_\nis an expression signifying that a person is extremely fortunate.\nApart from the ordinary luck supposed to attach to the \"caul,\" it\nmay preserve the child from a terrible danger to which, according\nto the old idea, it is ever exposed--namely, that of being secretly\ncarried off and exchanged by some envious witch or fairy for its own\nill-favoured offspring. This superstition was once very common in\nmany countries, and was even believed by Martin Luther, if we are to\nrely on the following extract from his \"Table Book:\"--\"Changelings\nSatan lays in the place of the genuine children, that people may\nbe tormented with them. He often carries off young maidens into\nthe water.\" This most reprehensible of the practices attributed\nto the fairies is constantly spoken of by our old writers, and is\nseveral times mentioned by Shakespeare. In the speech of Puck, in _A\nMidsummer Night's Dream_ (Act ii., sc. 1), that jovial sprite says of\nTitania's lovely boy--the cause of quarrel between the King and Queen\nof Elfland:--\n\n    \"She never had so sweet a changeling.\"\n\nIn the _Winter's Tale_ (Act iv., sc. 4) the Shepherd, on discovering\nthe babe Perdita, tells the Clown, \"It was told me I should be\nrich by the fairies. This is some changeling.\" As a preservation\nagainst this danger, sundry charms are observed. Thus, in the\nNorth of England, a carving-knife is still hung from the head of\nthe cradle, with the point suspended near the child's face. In the\nWestern Isles of Scotland idiots are believed to be the fairies'\nchangelings, and in order to regain the lost child, parents have\nrecourse to the following device:--They place the changeling on the\nbeach, below high-water mark, when the tide is out, and pay no heed\nto its screams, believing that the fairies, rather than allow their\noffspring to be drowned by the rising waters, will convey it away and\nrestore the child they had stolen. The sign that this has been done\nis the cessation of the child's crying. In Ireland, too, the peasants\noften place the child supposed to be a changeling on a hot shovel, or\ntorment it in some other way. A similar practice is resorted to in\nDenmark, where the mother heats the oven, and places the child on the\npeel, pretending to put it in; and sometimes she whips it severely\nwith a rod, or throws it into the water. The only real safeguard,\nhowever, against this piece of fairy mischief is baptism, and hence\nthe rite has generally been performed among the peasantry as soon as\npossible after birth.\n\nAnother danger to which the new-born child is said to be exposed, and\nto counteract which baptism is an infallible charm, is the influence\nof the \"evil eye;\" certain persons being thought to possess the power\nof inflicting injury by merely looking on those whom they wish to\nharm. Although this form of superstition has been gradually dying out\nfor many years past, yet it still retains its hold in certain country\nplaces. It is interesting to trace this notion as far back as the\ntime of the Romans; and in the late Professor Conington's translation\nof the \"Satires of Persius\" we find it thus laughably spoken\nof:--\"Look here! A grandmother or a superstitious aunt has taken baby\nfrom his cradle, and is charming his forehead against mischief by the\njoint action of her middle finger and her purifying spittle; for she\nknows right well how to check the evil eye.\" Confining ourselves,\nhowever, to instances recorded in our own country, we find that,\neven now-a-days, various charms are practised for counteracting the\nbaneful influence of this cruel species of witchcraft. Thus, in\nLancashire, some of the chief consist in spitting three times in the\nchild's face, turning a live coal in the fire, exclaiming, \"The Lord\nbe with us;\" whilst in the neighbourhood of Burnley \"drawing blood\nabove the mouth\" was once a popular antidote. Self-bored or \"lucky\nstones\" are often hung by the peasantry behind their cottage doors;\nand in the South of England a copy of the apocryphal letter of our\nLord to Abgarus, King of Edessa, may occasionally be seen pasted\non the walls. In many places, when a child pines or wastes away,\nthe cause is often attributed to the \"evil eye,\" and one remedy in\nuse against this disaster is the following:--Before sunrise it is\nbrought to a blacksmith of the seventh generation, and laid on the\nanvil. The smith then raises his hammer as if he were about to strike\nthe hot iron, but brings it gently down on the child's body. This\nis done three times, after which the child is considered certain\nto amend. This superstition survives in Cornwall; and the late Mr.\nHawker, of Morwenstow, a noted authority on such topics, tells us\nthat two-thirds of the inhabitants of the Tamar side firmly believe\nin the power of the evil eye. In Scotland this piece of folk-lore has\nprevailed extensively from time immemorial, and one of the charms to\navert it is the \"gold and silver water.\" A sovereign and a shilling\nare put into water, which is sprinkled over the patient in the name\nof the Trinity. Again, in the Highlands of Scotland, ash-sap is given\nto new-born children, because, in common with the rowan, that tree is\nsupposed to possess the property of resisting the attacks of witches,\nfairies, and other imps of darkness. The Irish think that not only\ntheir children but their cattle are \"eye-bitten\" when they fall\nsuddenly sick.\n\nAmong other important items of folk-lore associated with birth may\nbe mentioned the popular belief that a child should go up in the\nworld before it goes down. On leaving its mother's room for the first\ntime, it is considered absolutely necessary that it should be carried\n_up-stairs_ before it goes _down-stairs_, otherwise it will always\nkeep low in the world, and never rise in after-life either to riches\nor distinction. When, however, as often happens, the mother's room\nis on the top storey, the nurse overcomes the obstacle by placing\na chair near the door, on which she steps before leaving the room.\nIn Yorkshire it is further stated that a new-born infant should\nalways be placed first in the arms of a maiden before any one else\ntouches it. It has been aptly questioned by Mr. Henderson, in his\n\"Folk-lore of the Northern Counties,\" whether we may not trace in\nthis practice an outgrowth of the medi\u00e6val belief that the Virgin\nMary was present at the birth of St. John the Baptist, and received\nhim first in her arms. Some, too, will never permit an infant to\nsleep upon bones--that is, the lap--a piece of folk-lore founded\non some degree of truth; for it has been pointed out that it is\nundoubtedly better for a child to support it throughout its whole\nlength, than to allow its head or legs to hang down, as they might\nprobably do if the infant was sleeping on the lap. Again, there is\na common idea that a baby and a kitten cannot thrive in the same\nhouse; and should, therefore, as is not unfrequently the case, a cat\nhave kittens at the time of a birth, these are immediately either\ndestroyed or given away. Few nurses, also, can be found courageous\nenough to weigh a young child, from a superstitious conviction that\nit is unfortunate so to do, the child often dying, or, at any rate,\nnot thriving afterwards. Equally unlucky, too, is it considered to\nrock baby's empty cradle, it being an omen of its death--a belief\nwhich also prevails in Scotland. The same notion exists in many parts\nof the Continent, and the Swedish folk tell us that it should be\navoided, as it is apt to make the child noisy and given to crying. It\nis also deprecated on another ground, that it is ominous of another\nclaimant for that place of rest--a piece of folk-lore which the\nSussex peasantry express in the following rhyme:--\n\n    \"If you rock the cradle empty,\n    Then you shall have babies plenty.\"\n\nMany consider it a bad sign when the first tooth makes its appearance\nin the upper jaw, denoting, it is said, that the child will not\nsurvive its infancy. Whilst speaking of teeth, it may be noted that\nthey occupy an important place in the folk-lore of infancy. Many\nreaders will no doubt recollect how the Duke of Gloucester, in\n_3 Henry VI._ (Act v., sc. 6), when describing the peculiarities\nconnected with his birth, relates that--\n\n    \"The midwife wondered, and the women cried,\n    'O Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!'\n    And so I was, which plainly signified\n    That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.\"\n\nIn Sussex it is still customary for little children to wear a\nnecklace of beads made from the root of the peony, as this is\nsupposed to act as a charm in assisting the cutting of their teeth.\nIn the same county, too, the peasantry have a great dislike to\nthrowing away the cast teeth of young children, believing that should\nany be accidentally found and gnawed by an animal, the child's new\ntooth would exactly correspond with the animal's which had bitten\nthe old one. Once more, in Scotland and the North of England, when\nthe first teeth come out, sundry precautions are taken, to make sure\nthat the fresh ones may be sound and healthy. One of these consists\nin filling the cavity with salt, after which the tooth must be burnt,\nwhile the following formula is repeated:--\n\n    \"Fire! fire! burn bone;\n    God send me my tooth again.\"\n\nThis practice exists in Sweden, and likewise in Switzerland, where\nthe tooth is wrapped up in paper, with a little salt, and then\nthrown into the fire. The teeth, however, are not the only objects\nof superstition in infancy, similar importance being attached to the\nnails. In many places, for instance, it is considered imprudent to\ncut them till baby is a year old, and then they should be bitten off,\nor else there is a likelihood of its growing up dishonest, or of its\nbeing, as the Sussex peasantry say, \"light-fingered.\" Anyhow, special\nattention is to be paid to the day of the week on which the child's\nnails are cut, if there be any truth in a well-known proverb--\n\n    \"Better a child had ne'er been born,\n    Than cut his nails on a Sunday morn.\"\n\nThe same warning is given in Germany, and if it is disregarded, it\nis said that the child will be liable to stammer as it grows up. A\ncurious Northumberland belief affirms that if the first parings of a\nchild's nails are carefully buried under an ash-tree, it will turn\nout in after-life a capital singer. It is also a popular fancy in\nnursery folk-lore that the child's future career in this world can\nbe easily augured from the little specks on its nails, a species of\npalmistry still extensively credited by even educated persons, and\none, too, not confined to infancy. Again, the infant's tiny hands\nare not free from superstition, and here and there, throughout the\ncountry, there is a notion that for the first few months after its\nbirth the right one should remain unwashed, the reason assigned for\nthis strange piece of eccentricity being that it may gather riches.\nAccording to another idea, children born open-handed are said to be\nof a bountiful disposition. In Scotland, too, great attention is\npaid as to which hand a child uses when taking up for the first time\na spoon to eat. If it should happen to be the left, then, alas! he\nis doomed to be an unlucky fellow all through his life. Indeed, as\nfar as we can judge from the numerous items of folk-lore still in\nvogue, it would seem that the early period of infancy, in one way\nor another, furnishes countless opportunities for ascertaining what\nkind of life is in store for the child in years to come, almost\nevery trivial action being regarded as indicative of something or\nother that shall befall it. Although many of these ideas may seem to\nus in this nineteenth century apparently senseless, yet it must be\nremembered they are frequently survivals of primitive culture, and\nare interesting as having been handed down to us from the distant\npast. According to an old superstition, parents desirous of securing\nlong life for their children should pass them through the branches of\na maple. A few years ago one of these trees had long been resorted\nto for this purpose in West Grinstead Park, and as soon as a rumour\nspread through the parish that it was about to be demolished, quite\na consternation prevailed in the neighbourhood. Similar properties\nare supposed to belong to the ash, weakly infants that do not thrive\nbeing drawn through a cleft in its trunk. This charm, as performed\nin Cornwall, is thus:--A large knife is inserted into the trunk of a\nyoung ash, about a foot from the ground, and a vertical opening made\nfor about three feet. Two men then forcibly pull the parts asunder,\nand hold them so, whilst the mother passes the child through the\ncleft three times. The ceremony does not end here, as the child has\nto be washed for three successive mornings in the dew from the leaves\nof the \"charmed ash.\" This supposed magical property of the ash has\nan additional interest, when we consider that some thousands of\nyears ago our ancestors regarded it as one of their wonder-working\ntrees, and associated it with some of their oldest traditions. At the\npresent day, too, it is the subject of an extensive folk-lore, to\nwhich we shall have occasion to refer in a succeeding chapter.\n\nAgain, if a baby frets and does not appear to thrive, it is supposed\nby some to be \"longing.\" Thus, a Sussex nurse one day said to a lady,\n\"Baby is so uncommon fretty, I do believe he must be longing for\nsomething.\" When asked what he could be longing for, she replied,\n\"Something that his mother longed for, but did not get, before he\nwas born, and the best way to satisfy him would be, I think, to\ntry him with a brandied cherry, or some hare's brains.\" This piece\nof superstition, however, is not confined to Sussex. Once more,\nin addition to the popular notion that cats suck the breath of\ninfants and so cause their death--one, indeed, without a particle\nof truth--there is another in which poor pussy is the victim, an\nillustration of which we quote from \"Rambles in an Old City,\" by a\nNorfolk author:--\"Not long since a woman, holding quite a respectable\nrank among the working classes, avowed herself determined to 'drownd'\nthe cat as soon as ever her baby, which was lying ill, should die.\nThe only explanation she could give for this determination was that\nthe cat jumped upon the nurse's lap as the baby lay there soon after\nit was born, from which time it ailed, and ever since that time the\ncat had regularly gone under its bed once a day and coughed twice.\nThese mysterious actions of poor 'Tabby' were assigned as the cause\nof the baby wasting, and its fate was to be sealed as soon as that\nof the poor infant was decided. That the baby happened to be the\ntwenty-fourth child of his mother, who had succeeded in rearing only\nfour of the two dozen, was a fact that seemed to possess no weight\nwhatever in her estimation.\" This strange antipathy to our domestic\nanimal no doubt took its origin in the old belief that the cat's is\none of the numerous forms which witches are fond of assuming, and on\nthis account, in days gone by, poor pussy was oftentimes subjected\nto gross ill-treatment at the hands of the ignorant classes. At the\npresent day, in Germany, there is a deep-rooted belief that witches,\nwhen bent on doing mischief, take the form of a cat, and many stories\nare current of their frightening their victims by appearing as \"the\nnightmare;\" or, if dishonestly disposed, of their drinking their\nneighbour's beer. Returning, however, again to the subject of our\npresent chapter, there is a superstitious fancy in the North of\nEngland that it is unlucky to walk over the graves of unchristened\nchildren, which is vulgarly called \"unchristened ground,\" the person\nwho does so rendering himself liable to catching the fatal disease\nof the \"grave-scab.\" This complaint, we are told by Mr. Henderson,\n\"comes on with a trembling of the limbs and hard breathing, and at\nlast the skin burns as if touched with hot iron,\" in allusion to\nwhich an old ballad tells us--\n\n    \"And it ne'er will be cured by doctor on earth,\n      Tho' every one should tent him, oh!\n    He shall tremble and die like the elf-shot eye,\n      And return from whence he came, oh!\"\n\nThere is, however, a remedy, though not easy of attainment--\"It lies\nin the wearing a sark, thus prepared:--The lint must be grown in a\nfield which shall be manured from a farmyard heap that has not been\ndisturbed for forty years. It must be spun by Habbitrot, the queen of\nspinsters; it must be bleached by an honest bleacher, in an honest\nmiller's mill-dam, and sewed by an honest tailor. On donning this\nmysterious vestment, the sufferer will at once regain his health and\nstrength.\" Unfortunately the necessary conditions for the successful\naccomplishment of this charm are so difficult, that he must be a\nclever man who can fulfil them. In the South of England, on the\nother hand, we do not find the same dread attaching to the graves\nof still-born children. Thus on a certain occasion, when one of the\nCommissioners of Devonport complained that a charge of one shilling\nand sixpence should have been made upon the parish authorities for\nthe grave and interment of a still-born child, he added that \"when\nhe was a young man it was thought lucky to have a still-born child\nput into an open grave, as it was considered to be a sure passport\nto heaven for the next person buried there.\" According to another\nsuperstitious notion, if a mother frets and pines after her baby when\nit is dead, it is said that it cannot rest, and will come back to\nearth again. Various stories are on record of children thus visiting\ntheir mothers after death, an instance of which we quote from the\n\"Dialect of Leeds:\"--It appears that soon after the birth of the\nmother's next child, the previous one that had died entered her room\nwith eyes deeply sunken, as if with much weeping, and on approaching\nthe bed, said, \"Mother, I can't rest if you will go on fretting.\"\nShe replied, \"Well, lad, I wean't fret any more.\" He then looked\nupon the bed and said, \"Let's luke at it, mother!\" She turned down\nthe coverlet and let him look at her new-born babe. \"It'll die,\" he\nsaid, and vanished. These, then, are some of the boundless dangers\nand difficulties that are supposed to beset the beginnings of life;\nand, taking into consideration the importance of that momentous\ncrisis, when a fresh actor is introduced upon the world's great\nstage, it is not surprising that this event has, in most ages and\ncountries, been associated with divers superstitions, and given rise\nto sundry customs, each of which has helped to invest man's entry\ninto this world with all that grandeur which such a solemn occasion\nrequires.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nCHILDHOOD.\n\n    Nursery Literature--The Power of Baptism--Confirmation--Popular\n    Prayers--Weather Rhymes--School Superstitions--Barring out.\n\n\nIt must not be supposed that childhood has no special folk-lore of\nits own. It is, in fact, of a most varied kind, many of the old\ntraditionary beliefs and practices associated with the nursery being\nrelics of what the Scandinavian mothers taught their children in days\nof long ago. The familiar fairy-tales of our own childhood still form\nthe nursery literature in most homes, and are of unusual interest\nas embodying not only the myths and legends of the ancient Aryan\nrace, but their conceptions about the world around them. Thus, for\ninstance, the well-known story of \"Cinderella,\" like many others of\nthe same character, such as \"Jack the Giant Killer,\" or \"Beauty and\nthe Beast,\" are to be found in almost all countries, and although\nthe versions differ in some respects, yet they point to a common\norigin at a very remote period. Indeed, it is curious that there\nshould still exist among the children of the nineteenth century an\nundying love for these survivals of Aryan literature, couched in\nsuch graceful and simple language that few modern compositions can\nbe found to equal them. In reading, therefore, about the dwellers\nin Wonderland, the young mind is unconsciously taking in primitive\nnotions about the workings of nature as seen in the succession of\nday and night, the changes of the seasons, and so on. In the story\nof \"Cinderella,\" we have the ancient nature-myth of the sun and the\ndawn, representing the morning sun in the form of a fairy prince\npursuing Cinderella, the dawn, to claim her for his bride, whilst the\nenvious clouds, her sisters, and the moon, her stepmother, strive\nto keep her in the background. It would, however, take too long and\nrequire a book of itself to discuss the history and meaning of these\nfairy tales which so delight the childish fancy, and exercise such a\nwholesome influence, inculcating some of the noblest sentiments and\nloftiest teachings of the founders of our race. Referring then more\nparticularly to the superstitions connected with childhood, we would,\nfirst of all, briefly speak of those relating to certain outward\ncircumstances, which are believed to affect more or less the child's\nwelfare in life.\n\nThus, it is a deep-rooted belief that a child never thrives until\nafter its baptism; and in cases of illness the clergyman is more\noften perhaps sent for by the poor from a belief in the physical\nvirtue of the sacred rite itself, rather than from any actual\nconviction of its religious importance. Indeed, how much potency is\nsupposed to reside in baptism may be gathered from the countless\nsuperstitions with which it is associated, the omission of this rite\nbeing attended more often than not with fatal results. Hence it is\nfrequently performed as soon as possible after birth, one reason\nbeing, as we have already seen, that so long as the child remains\nunbaptised it is thought to be at the mercy of ill-disposed fairies,\nand subject to the influence of the evil eye. According to another\npopular fancy, not confined to our own country, should a child have\nthe misfortune to die unchristened, it is doomed either to flit\nrestlessly around its parents' abode, or to wander about in deserted\nspots, daily repining over its hard and unenviable lot. In Germany,\ntradition says that such children are transformed into that delusive\nlittle meteor known as the will-o'-the-wisp, and so ceaselessly hover\nbetween heaven and earth. On one occasion, we are told of a Dutch\nparson who, happening to go home to his village late one evening,\nfell in with no less than three of these fiery phenomena. Remembering\nthem to be the souls of unbaptised children, he solemnly stretched\nout his hand and pronounced the words of baptism over them. Much,\nhowever, to his terrible consternation and surprise, in the twinkling\nof an eye a thousand or more of these apparitions suddenly made\ntheir appearance--no doubt all equally anxious to be christened. The\ngood man, runs the story, was so terribly frightened, that forgetting\nall his good intentions, he took to his heels and ran home as fast\nas his legs could take him. In Lusatia, where the same superstition\nprevails, the souls of these unhappy children, which hover about in\nthe form of will-o'-the-wisps, are said to be relieved from their\nunhappy wanderings so soon as any pious hand throws a handful of\nconsecrated ground after them.\n\nIn Scotland, to make quite sure of baptism being altogether\npropitious, it was deemed highly important that the person entrusted\nwith the care of the child should be known by common report to be\nlucky. She was generally provided with a piece of bread and cheese,\nwhich she presented to the first person she met as an offering\nfrom the infant. If the party readily accepted and partook of the\nproffered gift, it was undoubtedly a good omen; but if refused\nit was considered tantamount to wishing evil to the child. Hence\nthe future destiny of the little one was often augured from this\nsuperstitious ceremony, which, by-the-by, is also practised in the\nWest of England, but the events of its after-life only too often\nbelied the weal and woe predicted for it. Again, it is thought highly\nnecessary that the child should cry at its baptism, or else ill-luck\nwill sooner or later overtake it, the idea being that, when the child\nscreams and kicks, the evil spirit is in the act of quitting it; its\nsilence, on the other hand, indicating that it is too good for this\nwicked world. An amusing little episode in illustration of this\ncurious superstition is related by Mrs. Latham, in the \"Folk-lore\nRecord:\"--\"I was lately present at a christening in Sussex, when a\nlady of the party, who was grandmother of the child, whispered in\na voice of anxiety, 'The child never cried; why did not the nurse\nrouse it up?' After we had left the church she said to her, 'O nurse,\nwhy did not you pinch baby?' And when the baby's good behaviour was\nafterwards commented upon, she observed, with a very serious air, 'I\nwish that he had cried.'\" In the same county it is considered unlucky\nto divulge a child's intended name before its baptism; and the water\nsprinkled on its forehead at the font must on no account be wiped\noff. Whilst on the subject of baptism, we would just note that in\nformer years peculiar curative properties were supposed to reside in\nwater that had been used at this rite, and on this account it was\nemployed for various disorders. It was also regarded in Scotland as a\npreservative against witchcraft; and eyes bathed in it were rendered\nfor life incapable of seeing ghosts.\n\nIt may not be inappropriate to allude here to the superstitions\nrelative to confirmation, following in due time, as this rite does,\non baptism. In Norfolk, for instance, it is considered unlucky to be\ntouched by the bishop's left hand; and in Devonshire, also, where a\nsimilar notion prevails, young people look upon his right hand as the\nlucky one, and should it not be their privilege to receive it, they\nleave the church much disappointed. In some of the northern counties,\nwe are informed that the unfortunate recipients of the left hand\nare doomed, then and there, to a life of single blessedness. This\nis not the only species of superstition belonging to confirmation,\nfor instances are on record of persons who, although confirmed in\ntheir early life, have again presented themselves for confirmation\nin their old age, under a conviction that the bishop's blessing\nwould cure them of some bodily ailment. It is related that, at one\nof the confirmations of the venerable Bishop Bathurst, an old woman\nwas observed eagerly pressing forward to the church. A by-stander,\nsomewhat amazed at her odd conduct, and struck with her aged\nappearance, inquired if she was going to be confirmed, and, being\nanswered in the affirmative, expressed his astonishment that she\nshould have procrastinated it to such an advanced time of life. The\nold woman, however, resented his reproof, replying \"that it was not\nso; that she had already been bishopped seven times, and intended to\nbe again, it was so good for her rheumatism!\"\n\nIn some cases the prayers taught by the poor to their children\nare curious. Thus, a popular prayer, formerly in use, and not yet\nforgotten, is evidently a relic of Roman Catholic times, having been\nhanded down from a period anterior to the Reformation. As the reader\nwill see, the version below contains a distinct appeal to certain\nsaints for their intercession with God on the child's behalf:--\n\n    \"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,\n    Bless the bed I lie upon;\n    Four corners to my bed,\n    Four angels at its head,\n    One to watch, two to pray,\n    And one to bear my soul away;\n    God within and God without,\n    Sweet Jesus Christ all round about;\n    If I die before I wake,\n    I pray to God my soul to take.\"\n\nIt has been pointed out that it is very singular that this prayer\nshould have survived the great change which took place in religious\nopinion in the sixteenth century, and that it even still remains in\nuse. There are many variations of it, and the following two distiches\nobtained from Lancashire are quaint, having been written, it has been\nthought, by the Puritans, in ridicule:--\n\n    \"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,\n    Hold the horse that I leap on.\n    Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,\n    Take a stick and lay upon.\"\n\nA Lincolnshire clergyman, anxious to learn something of the nature of\nthe prayers said by the children of the agricultural poor, visited\nsome of their cottages a few years ago in the evening, and listened\nto the little ones as they said their prayers. The concluding\nportion, he tells us, was always intercession for relations, but\nthe form it generally took was peculiar. In the first place, it was\nnot, as is the case with the more educated classes, \"Pray God bless\nfather and mother,\" &c., but \"Pray for father, pray for mother, pray\nfor brothers and sisters,\" and so on. In certain cases, through\ncarelessness and rapidity, the words had degenerated into \"Pray\nfather, pray mother,\" &c. There can be no doubt that originally the\nprayer was this:--\"Pray for father;\" then a _Pater noster_, or an\n_Ave Maria_, or both, would be said; then \"Pray for mother,\" &c.\nAfter the Reformation, as time went on, the constant repetition of\nthe _Pater_ and the use of the _Ave Maria_ would gradually die out\nwith the change of religious ideas, and thus the prayer would assume\nits present form, \"Pray for father, pray for mother.\"\n\nReferring, in the second place, to the superstitions of children,\nwe find an immense number of curious rhymes on various subjects\nused by them throughout the country. While many of these have,\nno doubt, been taught them by nurserymaids, a great part, as Mr.\nChambers has pointed out in his \"Popular Rhymes of Scotland,\" may\nbe thought to have taken their rise in the childish imagination\nduring that familiar acquaintance with natural objects, which it is\none of the most precious privileges of the young to enjoy in rural\ndistricts. Besides, too, we must not forget that children seem to\nhave a peculiar love for all natural objects, often finding pleasure\nin looking at some wayside flower, or in watching the movements of\nsome tiny insect, which in after-years do not bring them the same\ninterest. The fact, indeed, that the young mind is a true admirer of\nnature in all probability accounts for many of those pleasing rhymes\nwhich constitute much of the child's folk-lore.\n\nSome of the charms, for instance, used to influence the weather are\ncurious, and it is worthy of note that these, in many cases, are not\nconfined to childhood only, but are frequently found in the mouths\nof our peasants. Thus the child's appeal to rain for its departure\nhas become a general charm, and is familiar to most readers:--\n\n    \"Rain, rain, go to Spain,\n    Fair weather, come again.\"\n\nAubrey considers this rhyme of great antiquity, and says that\n\"it is derived from the Gentiles.\" Often in summer-time, when a\nthunder-shower interrupts some out-door game, one may hear a chorus\nof young voices shouting--\n\n    \"Rain, rain, go away,\n    Come another summer's day.\"\n\nOr, as other versions have it, \"Come again on washing-day.\" The\nappearance of a rainbow is generally, too, the signal for various\nmarks of dissatisfaction on the part of the young, who, besides\nentreating it to vanish as soon as possible, frequently try to\ncharm it away. This they do by placing a couple of straws or twigs\ncrossways on the ground, and so, to quote their phrase, \"cross out\nthe rainbow.\" Another way is to make a cross of two sticks, and to\nlay four pebbles on it, one at each end. Again, some of the rhymes\nrelating to snow are highly quaint, the following being repeated when\nit makes its first appearance:--\n\n    \"The men of the East\n    Are picking their geese,\n    And sending their feathers here away, here away.\"\n\nWhen, however, boys wish the snow to go away, they sing:--\n\n    \"Snow, snow, give over,\n    The cow's in the clover.\"\n\nThunder, in the North of England, is called by children\n\"Rattley-bags,\" and during a storm the boys are in the habit of\nsinging:--\n\n    \"Rowley, Rowley, Rattley-bags,\n    Take the lasses and leave the lads.\"\n\nThere is a rhyme which is often repeated by the juvenile folks in the\nnorth and midland counties upon seeing the new moon, which, perhaps,\nmay have an indirect allusion to its supposed lucky influence:--\n\n    \"I see the moon and the moon sees me,\n    God help the parson that baptised me!\"--\n\ncontaining, evidently, a congratulation upon their birth. Boys,\ntoo, have a curious saying respecting the reflection of the sun's\nbeams upon a ceiling, which they term \"Jack-a-dandy beating his\nwife with a stick of silver.\" If a mischievous boy, with a piece of\nlooking-glass, throws the reflection into the eyes of a neighbour,\nthe latter complains \"he's throwing Jack-a-dandy in my eyes.\"\n\nPassing on to other charm-rhymes connected with natural objects,\nthere are a very numerous class relating to the animal creation. In\nevening-time, for instance, when the dew begins to fall, boys are\nfond of hunting the large black snails, on discovering which they\nexclaim:--\n\n    \"Snail, snail, put out your horn,\n    Or I'll kill your father and mother i' th' morn.\"\n\nThis charm, however, is not confined to our own country, but under\na variety of forms is found on the Continent. In Scotland, too,\nchildren prognosticate the coming weather from the movements of this\nlittle creature:--\n\n    \"Snailie, snailie, shoot out your horn,\n    And tell us if it will be a bonny day the morn.\"\n\nSchool-life, again, has its customs and superstitions, many of which\nhave been transmitted from generation to generation; and childhood,\nindeed, would seem quite incomplete without them. Thus, according\nto an odd notion universally accepted in days gone by, and still\nreceived with implicit faith, if the master's cane is carefully\nnicked at the upper end, and a hair inserted, it will, as soon as\nused, split immediately to the very tip. In school-games, the usual\nantipathy to odd numbers is found, and a child is easily persuaded\nto give away a marble to make the number even. A kind of divination,\nalso, is still frequently employed by boys to settle matters of\ndifficulty, such, for example, as who shall be the leaders in a game,\nthe choice of partners, and other details which are deemed of equal\nimportance. The mode of procedure is this:--A long stick is thrown\ninto the air, and caught by one of the parties. Each one then grasps\nit hand over hand, and he who succeeds in getting the last hold is\nthe successful party. Mr. Henderson says that an odd expression\nwas formerly connected with the lending a knife among boys for the\ncutting up of a cake or other dainty, the borrowers being asked to\ngive it back \"laughing,\" _i.e._, with some of the good things it was\nused to cut.\n\nAmong the many old school customs, we may close our present chapter\nby mentioning a popular one known as \"barring out,\" upon which, it\nmay be remembered, Miss Edgeworth has founded one of her instructive\nstories. The practice consisted in \"barring out\" the masters from the\nscene of their educational labours, the agents in this ceremony being\nthe pupils of the school. It was an occasion of no small disorder--\n\n    \"Not school-boys at a barring out,\n    Raised ever such incessant rout.\"\n\nAddison is reported to have been the leader of a barring out at the\nLichfield Grammar School, and to have displayed on the occasion a\nspirit of disorderly daring very different to that timid modesty\nwhich so characterised his after-life. So much, then, for the\nfolk-lore of childhood, a subject indeed full of interest, and\npossessing a worth far beyond the circle of its own immediate\ninfluence, inasmuch as even the simplest nursery jingle or puerile\nsaying has often been found of help in proving the affinity of\ncertain races, and has an ethnological value which the student of\ncomparative philology would be slow to underrate in his task of\nresearch.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nLOVE AND COURTSHIP.\n\n    Love-tests--Plants used in Love-charms--The Lady-bird--The\n    Snail--St. Valentine's Day--Midsummer Eve--Hallowe'en--Omens on\n    Friday.\n\n\nNo event in human life has, from the earliest times, been associated\nwith a more extensive folk-lore than marriage, which is indeed no\nmatter of surprise, considering that this is naturally looked upon as\nthe happiest epoch--the _summum bonum_--of each one's career in this\nworld. Hence, to write a detailed account of the charms, omens, and\ndivinations, as well as of the superstitions and customs, connected\nwith marriage, including its early stages of love and courtship,\nwould require a volume for itself, so varied and widespread is this\nsubject of universal interest.\n\nIn the present chapter, however, have been collected together,\nin as condensed a form as possible, some of the principal items\nof folk-lore connected with love and courtship, as we find them\nscattered here and there throughout the country. Commencing, then,\nwith love-divinations, these are of every conceivable kind, the\nanxious maiden apparently having left no stone unturned in her\nanxiety to ascertain her lot in the marriage state. Hence in her\nnatural longings to raise the veil of futurity, the aspirant to\nmatrimony, if she be at all of a superstitious turn of mind, seldom\nlets an opportunity pass by without endeavouring to gain from it\nsome sign or token of the kind of husband that is in store for her.\nAs soon, too, as the appointed one has at last presented himself,\nshe is not content to receive with unreserved faith his professions\nof love and life-long fidelity; but, in her sly moments, when he is\nnot at hand, she proves the genuineness of his devotion by certain\ncharms which, while they cruelly belie his character, only too often\nunkindly deceive the love-sick maiden.\n\nIn the first place, we may note that love-tests have been derived\nfrom a variety of sources, such as plants, insects, animals,\nbirds, not to mention those countless other omens obtained from\nfamiliar objects to which we shall have occasion to allude. At the\noutset, however, it may not be uninteresting to quote the following\naccount of love-charms in use about one hundred and fifty years\nago, and which was written by a young lady to the editor of the\n_Connoisseur_:--\n\n\"Arabella was in love with a clever Londoner, and had tried all the\napproved remedies. She had seen him several times in coffee grounds\nwith a sword by his side; he was once at the bottom of a tea-cup in\na coach and six, with his two footmen behind it. On the last May\nmorning she went into the fields to hear the cuckoo; and when she\npulled off her left shoe, she found a hair in it the exact colouring\nof his. The same night she sowed hempseed in the back yard, repeating\nthe words:--\n\n    'Hempseed I sow, hempseed I hoe,\n      And he that is my true love,\n    Come after me and mow.'\n\nAfter that she took a clean shift and turned it, and hung it on the\nback of a chair; and very likely he would have come and turned it,\nfor she heard a step, and being frightened could not help speaking,\nand that broke the spell. The maid Betty recommended her young\nmistress to go backwards, without speaking a word, into the garden on\nMidsummer Eve, and gather a rose, keep it in a clean sheet of paper\nwithout looking in it till Christmas Day, it will be as fresh as in\nJune; and if she sticks this rose in her bosom, he that is to be her\nhusband will come and take it out. Arabella had tried several other\nstrange fancies. Whenever she lies in a strange bed, she always ties\nher garters nine times round the bed-post, and knits nine knots in\nit, saying all the time:--\n\n    'This knot I knit, this knot I tie,\n    To see my love as he goes by,\n    In his apparel and array,\n    As he walks in every day.'\n\nOn the last occasion Mr. Blossom drew the curtains and tucked up the\nclothes at the bed's feet. She has many times pared an apple whole,\nand afterwards flung the peel over her head, and on each occasion the\npeel formed the first letter of his Christian name or surname.\"\n\nReferring to the use of plants in love-charms, they are very\nnumerous. One popular one consists in taking the leaves of yarrow,\ncommonly called \"nosebleed,\" and tickling the inside of the nostrils,\nrepeating at the same time these lines:--\n\n    \"Green 'arrow, green 'arrow, you bear a white blow,\n    If my love love me, my nose will bleed now;\n    If my love don't love me, it 'ont bleed a drop;\n    If my love do love me, 'twill bleed every drop.\"\n\nSome cut the common brake or fern just above the root to ascertain\nthe initial letters of the future wife's or husband's name; and\nthe dandelion, as a plant of omen, is much in demand. As soon as\nits seeds are ripe they stand above the head of the plant in a\nglobular form, with a feathery top at the end of each seed, and\nthen are without any difficulty detached. When in this condition\nthe flower-stalk must be carefully plucked, so as not to injure the\nglobe of seeds, the charm consisting in blowing off the seeds with\nthe breath. The number of puffs that are required to blow every seed\nclean off indicates the number of years that must elapse before\nthe person is married. Again, nuts and apples are very favourite\nlove-tests. The mode of procedure is for a girl to place on the bars\nof the grate a nut, repeating this incantation:--\n\n    \"If he loves me, pop and fly;\n    If he hates me, live and die.\"\n\nAs may be imagined, great is the dismay if the anxious face of the\ninquirer gradually perceives the nut, instead of making the hoped-for\npop, die and make no sign. Again, passing on to insects, one means of\ndivination is to throw a lady-bird into the air, repeating meanwhile\nthe subjoined couplet:--\n\n    \"Fly away east, and fly away west,\n    Show me where lives the one I like best.\"\n\nShould this little insect chance to fly in the direction of the house\nwhere the loved one resides, it is regarded as a highly-favourable\nomen. The snail, again, was much used in love-divinations, many an\neager maiden anxious of ascertaining her lover's name following the\nexample of Hobnelia, who, in order to test the constancy of her\nLubberkin, did as follows:--\n\n    \"Upon a gooseberry bush a snail I found,\n    For always snails near sweetest fruit abound.\n    I seized the vermin, home I quickly sped,\n    And on the hearth the milk-white embers spread;\n    Slow crawled the snail, and, if I right can spell,\n    In the soft ashes marked a curious L.\n    Oh! may this wondrous omen lucky prove,\n    For 'L' is found in Lubberkin and Love.\"\n\nThree magpies are said to prognosticate a wedding; and in our rural\ndistricts the unmarried of either sex calculate the number of years\nof single blessedness still allotted to them by counting the cuckoo's\nnotes when they first hear it in the spring.\n\nSome days are considered specially propitious for practising\nlove-divinations. Foremost among these is St. Valentine's Day, a\nfestival which has been considered highly appropriate for such\nceremonies, as there is an old tradition that on this day birds\nchoose their mates, a notion which is frequently alluded to by the\npoets, and particularly by Chaucer, to which reference is made also\nin _A Midsummer Night's Dream_:--\n\n    \"Good morrow, friends, St. Valentine is past;\n    Begin the wood-birds but to couple now.\"\n\nThus, the Devonshire young ladies have a fancy that on St.\nValentine's Day they can, if they wish, make certain of their future.\nIf so disposed, they go into the churchyard at midnight, with some\nhempseed in their hand, which, after they have walked round the\nchurch a certain number of times, they scatter on either side as they\nreturn homewards, repeating a certain charm. It is supposed that the\ntrue lover will be seen taking up the hempseed just sown, attired for\nthe ceremony in a winding-sheet. Another species of love-divination\nonce observed consisted in obtaining five bay leaves, four of which\nthe anxious maiden pinned at the four corners of her pillow, and\nthe fifth in the middle. If she was fortunate enough to dream of\nher lover, it was a sure sign that he would be married to her in\nthe course of the year. Again, some young people would boil an egg\nhard, and, after taking out the contents, fill the shell with salt,\nthe charm consisting in eating the shell and salt on going to bed at\nnight without either speaking or drinking after it. A further method\nof divination was practised in the following way:--The lady wrote\nher lovers' names upon small pieces of paper, and, rolling them up\nin clay, put them into a tub of water. The first that rose to the\nsurface was to be not only her Valentine, but, in all probability,\nher future husband.\n\nAnother time, which has been equally popular from time immemorial for\nsuch superstitious practices, is Midsummer Eve. People gathered on\nthis night the rose, St. John's wort, trefoil, and rue, each of which\nwas supposed to have magical properties. They set orpine in clay\nupon pieces of slate in their houses, under the name of a Midsummer\nman. As the stalk next morning was found to incline to the right or\nleft, the anxious maiden knew whether her lover would prove true to\nher or not.\n\nHallowe'en, again, has been supposed to be the time, of all other\ntimes, when supernatural influences prevail, and on this account is\nregarded as a night of sure divination in love matters. All kinds\nof devices have, therefore, been resorted to at this season, and in\nthe North of England many superstitions still linger on, where this\nfestival is known as \"nutcrack-night,\" from nuts forming a prominent\nfeature in the evening feast. Once more, Christmas Eve is well known\nto love-sick swains and languishing maidens as an excellent day\nfor obtaining a glimpse into futurity. Numerous are the spells and\nceremonies by which this is attempted. Thus in some places, at \"the\nwitching hour of night,\" the young damsel goes into the garden and\nplucks twelve sage leaves, under the belief that she will see the\nshadowy form of her future husband approach her from the opposite\nend of the ground. In trying this delicate mode of divination great\ncare must be taken not to break or damage the sage-stalk, as should\nthis happen serious consequences might ensue. The following barbarous\ncharm was also much practised in days gone by:--The heart was taken\nfrom a living pigeon, stuck full of pins, and laid on the hearth, and\nwhile it was burning, the form of the young person's future partner\nwas believed to become visible to mortal eye.\n\nFriday has been held a good day of the week for love omens, and in\nNorfolk the following lines are repeated on three Friday nights\nsuccessively, as on the last one it is believed that the young lady\nwill dream of her future husband:--\n\n    \"To-night, to-night, is Friday night,\n    Lay me down in dirty white,\n    Dream who my husband is to be;\n    And lay my children by my side,\n    If I'm to live to be his bride.\"\n\nThere are numerous other modes of matrimonial divination which still\nfind favour in the eyes of those who prefer the married state to\nthat of virginity. Thus the seeds of butter-dock must be scattered\non the ground by a young unmarried girl half an hour before sunrise\non a Friday morning in a lonesome place. She must strew the seeds\ngradually on the grass, saying these words:--\n\n    \"I sow, I sow!\n      Then, my own dear,\n      Come here, come here,\n    And mow, and mow.\"\n\nAfter this she will see her future husband mowing with a scythe at a\nshort distance from her. She must, however, display no symptoms of\nfear, for should she cry out in alarm he will immediately vanish.\nThis method is said to be infallible, but it is regarded as a bold,\ndesperate, and presumptuous undertaking. Some girls, again, make\na hole in the road where four ways meet, and apply their ear to\nit, with the hope of learning of what trade their future husband\nis to be. It is unnecessary, however, to illustrate this part of\nour subject further, for the preceding pages amply show how varied\nand extensive are the omens and divinations connected with an\nevent without which life is considered in the eyes of most persons\nincomplete. Although these may seem trivial and often nonsensical,\nyet they have often exercised an important influence over that period\nof anxious suspense which intervenes between courtship and marriage,\noften tantalising and damping in a cruel manner the hopes of many an\nardent lover.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nMARRIAGE.\n\n    Seasons and Days propitious to Marriage--Superstitions\n    connected with the Bride--Meeting a Funeral--Robbing the Bride\n    of Pins--Dancing in a Hog's Trough--The Wedding-cake--The Ring.\n\n\nIn selecting the time for the marriage ceremony precautions of every\nkind have generally been taken to avoid an unlucky month and day for\nthe knot to be tied. Indeed, the old Roman notion that May marriages\nare unlucky survives to this day in England, a striking example,\nas Mr. Tylor has pointed out in his \"Primitive Culture,\" of how an\nidea, the meaning of which has perished for ages, may continue to\nexist simply because it has existed. That May with us is not a month\nfor marrying may easily be seen any year from the list of weddings\nin the _Times_ newspaper, the popular belief being summed up in the\nfamiliar proverb, \"Marry in May and you'll rue the day.\" Some of\nthe numerous reasons assigned for the ill-luck attaching to this\nmonth are the following:--That women disobeying the rule would be\nchildless; or if they had children, that the first-born would be an\nidiot, or have some physical deformity; or that the married couple\nwould not live happily together in their new life, but soon become\nweary of each other's society--superstitions which still retain\ntheir hold throughout the country. In spite, however, of this absurd\nprejudice, it seems that in days gone by May was honoured in feudal\nEngland as the month of all months especially congenial to lovers.\nMost readers are no doubt acquainted with the following stanza in the\n\"Court of Love:\"--\n\n    \"I had not spoke so sone the words, but she,\n      My soveraine, did thank me heartily,\n    And saide, 'Abide, ye shall dwell still with me\n      Till season come of May, for then truly\n      The King of Love and all his company\n    Shall holde his feste full rially and well,'\n    And there I bode till that the season fell.\"\n\nOn the other hand, June is a highly popular month for marrying, one\nreason perhaps being that the earth is then clothed in her summer\nbeauty, and that this is a season of plenty. At any rate, this notion\nmay be traced up to the time of the Romans, and thus when Ovid was\nanxious about the marriage of his daughter, he--\n\n    \"Resolved to match the girl, and tried to find\n    What days unprosp'rous were, what moons were kind;\n    After June's sacred Ides his fancy strayed,\n    Good to the man and happy to the maid.\"\n\nAmong the other seasons admitting or prohibiting matrimony may be\nmentioned the following, contained in a well-known rhyme:--\n\n    \"Advent marriages doth deny,\n    But Hilary gives thee liberty;\n    Septuagesima says thee nay,\n    Eight days from Easter says you may;\n    Rogation bids thee to contain,\n    But Trinity sets thee free again.\"\n\nEqual importance has been attached by some to the day of the week\non which the marriage is performed. Thus Friday, on account of its\nbeing regarded as an inauspicious and evil day for the commencement\nof any kind of enterprise, is generally avoided, few brides being\nfound bold enough to run the risk of incurring bad luck from being\nmarried on a day of ill-omen. In days gone by, Sunday appears to have\nbeen a popular day for marriages; although, as Mr. Jeaffreson, in\nhis amusing history of \"Brides and Bridals,\" remarks, \"A fashionable\nwedding, celebrated on the Lord's Day in London, or any part of\nEngland, would now-a-days be denounced by religious people of all\nChristian parties as an outrageous exhibition of impiety. But in our\nfeudal times, and long after the Reformation, Sunday was, of all\ndays of the week, the favourite one for marriages. Long after the\ntheatres had been closed on Sundays, the day of rest was the chief\nday for weddings with Londoners of every social class.\" The brides\nof Elizabethan dramas are usually represented as being married on\nSunday. Thus in the _Taming of the Shrew_, Petruchio, after telling\nhis future father-in-law \"that upon Sunday is the wedding-day,\" and\nlaughing at Katharine's petulant exclamation, \"I'll see thee hanged\non Sunday first,\" says:--\n\n    \"Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu;\n    I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace:\n    We will have rings, and things, and give array;\n    And, kiss me, Kate, we will be married o' Sunday.\"\n\nAmong the Scottish people, we are informed by the Registrar-General,\nthere is a peculiar fondness for marrying on the last day of the\nyear. Indeed, there are more marriages in Scotland on that day than\nin any week of the year, excepting, of course, the week in which that\nday occurs. Thus, in the year 1861, the returns give the number of\nmarriages in the eight principal towns as averaging about twenty-five\na day, exclusive of Sunday, as marrying is one of the things not to\nbe done on this day in Scotland. On the 31st of December, however, in\nthe same towns there were between 400 and 500 marriages. Curious to\nsay, too, in Scotland, Friday seems to be considered a lucky day for\nweddings; for Mr. Watson, the City Chamberlain of Glasgow, affirms\nthat \"it is a well-established fact that nine-tenths of the marriages\nin Glasgow are celebrated on a Friday; only a few on Tuesday and\nWednesday; Saturday and Monday are still more rarely adopted, and I\nhave never heard of such a thing in Glasgow as a marriage on Sunday.\"\n\nLeaving seasons and days considered propitious for marriage, we\nfind, in the next place, a number of superstitions associated with\nthat prominent and all-important personage on such an occasion, the\nbride. Thus it is above all things necessary that the sun should\nshine on her--\"Blest is the bride that the sun shines on!\"--a notion,\nindeed, which, it has been suggested, had a practical application\nin years gone by when marriages were celebrated in the church\nporch. A wet day, at such a time, was a serious matter, especially\nas our forefathers had not the many contrivances of modern times\nfor preservation from rain. Whereas, now-a-days, young ladies when\nalluding to being married speak of \"going to church,\" formerly they\nspoke of \"visiting the church-porch.\" After prevailing for centuries,\nthis ancient usage was discountenanced, if not actually abolished,\nby the ecclesiastical reformers of Edward VI.'s reign, who \"ordained\nthat the performance of the binding ceremony should take place in\nthe body of the church.\" Referring again to the bride, it is deemed\nabsolutely necessary by very many that she should weep on her\nwedding-day, if it be only a few tears, the omission of such an act\nbeing considered ominous of her future happiness. It is, too, the\nheight of ill-luck for either the bride or the bridegroom to meet\na funeral on going to or coming from the church, for if it happen\nto be that of a female, it is an indication that the bride will not\nlive long, and if it should be that of a male, then the bridegroom is\ndoomed to an early death. In the North of England there is a strong\nprejudice against a marriage taking place while there is a grave\nopen in the churchyard. In many parts of the country, also, special\ncare is taken that the bees are informed of a wedding, and as a\nmark of respect to them their hives are decorated with a favour. In\nSussex a bride on her return home from church is often robbed of all\nthe pins about her dress by the single women present, from a belief\nthat whoever possesses one of them will be married in the course of\na year. Much excitement and amusement are occasionally caused by the\nyouthful competitors for this supposed charm; and the bride herself\nis not unfrequently the victim of rather rough treatment. According\nto another piece of superstition, the bride, in removing her bridal\nrobe and chaplet at the completion of the marriage ceremonies, must\ntake care to throw away every pin worn on this eventful day. Evil\nfortune, it is affirmed, will sooner or later inevitably overtake the\nbride who keeps even one pin used in the marriage toilet. Woe also\nto the bridesmaids if they retain one of them, as their chances of\nmarriage will thereby be materially lessened, and anyhow they must\ngive up all hope of being wedded before the following Whitsuntide.\n\nAgain, in some parts of Yorkshire, to rub shoulders with the bride\nor bridegroom is considered an augury of a speedy marriage; and a\npiece of folk-lore prevalent in the neighbourhood of Hull is to\nthis effect: \"Be sure when you go to get married that you don't go\nin at one door and out at another, or you will always be unlucky.\"\nCuthbert Bede, in \"Notes and Queries,\" records an instance of a\nsimilar superstition that occurred at a wedding in a Worcestershire\nvillage in October, 1877. He says, \"The bride and bridegroom at the\nconclusion of the ceremony left the church by the chancel door,\ninstead of following the usual custom of walking down the church and\nthrough the nave door. One of the oldest inhabitants, in mentioning\nthis to me, said that it 'betokened bad luck,' and that she had never\nknown a like instance but once in her life when the married couple\nwent out of the church through the chancel door, and the bride was a\nwidow before the twelve months was out.\"\n\nAlluding briefly to other superstitions associated with marriage, we\nare told in the North of England that she who receives from the bride\na piece of cheese, cut by her before leaving the table, will be the\nnext bride among the company. In Yorkshire, too, when a newly-married\ncouple first enter their house, a hen is brought and made to cackle\nas a sign of good luck. The old Roman practice, also, of lifting the\nbride over the threshold of her husband's home, had its counterpart\nin Scotland within the present century, it being customary to lift\nthe young wife over the doorstep, lest any witchcraft or evil eye\nshould be cast upon and influence her. Indeed, we are informed that\nthe same practice prevailed in the North of England some years\nago--an interesting survival of the primitive superstitions of our\nancestors.\n\nAnother curious custom which was once practised in different parts of\nthe country was that of the elder sister dancing in a hog's trough\nin consequence of the younger sister marrying before her. \"Upon one\noccasion,\" says Mr. Glyde in his \"Norfolk Garland,\" \"a brother went\nthrough the ceremony also; and the dancers performed their part so\nwell that the trough itself was danced to pieces.\" It was considered\nthe most correct thing to dance in green stockings. It was also\ncustomary in former years for elder sisters to dance barefooted at\nthe marriage of a younger one, as otherwise they would inevitably\nbecome old maids. Hence Katharine says to her father, in allusion to\nBianca:--\n\n    \"She is your treasure, she must have a husband.\n    I must dance barefoot on her wedding-day,\n    And for your love to her lead apes in hell.\"\n\nThe last line, the meaning of which, however, is somewhat obscure,\nexpresses a common belief as to the ultimate fate of old maids.\nMalone, on this passage, remarks that in Shakespeare's time \"to lead\napes\" was one of the employments of a bear-ward, who often carried\nabout one of those animals along with his bear.\n\nReferring in the next place to some of the chief ceremonies\nassociated with marriage, we may note that \"the putting up of the\nbanns\" is not without its superstitions, for in the North of England\nit is considered highly unlucky for a young woman to be present at\nchurch when this important event takes place, any children she may\nhereafter have running the terrible risk of being born deaf and dumb.\nThus, a Worcestershire girl, some years since, refused to attend\nchurch and hear the publication of her own banns, lest by doing so\nshe should bring the curse of dumbness on her offspring. She stated\nthat one of her friends had transgressed this rule \"by hearing\nherself asked out at church,\" and in due course had six children, all\nof whom were deaf and dumb. Again, the wedding-cake, without which\nno wedding would be considered complete, is evidently a survival of\nthe symbolical corn-ears originally worn by the bride, and which in\nafter-times were made into cakes and sprinkled upon the bride's head.\nIn course of time these cakes were by degrees converted into one\nlarge mass, enriched with almond paste; and that the ingredients of\na wedding-cake in the seventeenth century did not differ materially\nfrom one at the present day may be gathered from Herrick, who says:--\n\n    \"This day, my Julia, thou must make,\n    For mistress bride, the wedding-cake;\n    Knead but the dough, and it will be\n    To paste of almonds turned by thee;\n    Or kiss it thou but once or twice,\n    And for the bride-cake there'll be spice.\"\n\nIndeed, corn in one form or another has always entered into the\nmarriage-ceremony, a practice which, as Sir John Lubbock, in his\n\"Origin of Civilisation,\" has pointed out, may be found among remote\nsavages or semi-civilised people. It would be difficult to enumerate\nthe many superstitions, beliefs, and usages that have at different\ntimes clustered round the wedding-cake, some of which are as popular\nas ever. In days gone by, either corn ears or fragments of broken\nbiscuit or cake were dropped on the newly-married couple on their\nreturn from church, a custom which is still kept up in some country\ndistricts. In Scotland and the North of England, for instance,\nas soon as the bride returns to her new home, one of the oldest\ninhabitants, who has been stationed on the threshold in readiness,\nthrows a plateful of shortbread over her head, taking care that\nit falls outside the house. This is immediately scrambled for, as\nit is considered most fortunate to secure a piece, however small.\nThus, just a century ago, Smollett, in his \"Expedition of Humphrey\nClinker\" (1771), described how Mrs. Tabitha Lismahago's wedding-cake\nwas broken over her head, and its fragments distributed among the\nbystanders, who imagined that to eat one of the hallowed pieces would\ninsure the unmarried eater the delight of seeing in a vision the\nperson to be his wife or her husband. Numerous other divinations,\nalso, have been practised by means of wedding-cake, one of the most\npopular being that of passing it through a wedding-ring, and placing\nit under the pillow to dream upon. In some parts of Lancashire and\nCumberland it is customary to put a ring amongst the ingredients of\nthe wedding-cake, and to invite the guests in turn to cut a slice.\nThe person who is fortunate enough to hold the knife when it comes\nupon the hidden ring is considered to be sure of happiness during\nthe ensuing twelve months. Again, Mr. Henderson mentions an exciting\ncustom practised in the North at the wedding-feast. He says:--\"The\nbride sticks her knife into the cheese, and all at table endeavour\nto seize it. He who succeeds without cutting his fingers in the\nstruggle thereby insures happiness in his married life. The knife\nis called 'the best man's prize,' because the 'best man' generally\nsecures it. Should he fail to do so, he will indeed be unfortunate in\nhis matrimonial views. The knife is, at any rate, a prize for male\nhands only; the maidens try to possess themselves of a 'shaping' of\nthe wedding-dress, for use in certain divinations regarding their\nfuture husbands.\" The custom of throwing the shoe for luck at a\nbridal couple we shall notice elsewhere, a practice which is perhaps\nthe principal source of merry-making and fun at most weddings. We\nmust not omit to allude to that indispensable little article at\na marriage, the wedding-ring, concerning which so much has been\nwritten. The Puritans, it may be remembered, tried to abolish it, on\naccount of, as they thought, its superstitious and heathen origin.\nThus, Butler, in his \"Hudibras,\" says:--\n\n    \"Others were for abolishing\n    That tool of matrimony, a ring,\n    With which the unsanctified bridegroom,\n    Is marry'd only to a thumb.\"\n\nThough, however, the ring of gold is generally looked upon as a\nnecessity in the marriage-ceremony, yet it is not legally so, but\nthere is a very strong prejudice against being married without it,\nand it would be no easy task to find a couple brave enough to act in\nopposition to this universal superstition. Thus, by way of example,\nMr. Jeaffreson, in his \"Brides and Bridals,\" tells us that the poor\nIrishman is so convinced that a marriage lacks validity unless it\nhas been solemnised with a golden ring, that, when he is too needy\nto buy a circlet of the most precious metal, he hires a hoop of gold\nfor use on his wedding-day. Not long since a tradesman, in a market\ntown at Munster, made a considerable addition to his modest income\nby letting out rings of gold to persons about to marry, who restored\nthe trinkets to their owner after being wedded at church. A case is\nrelated, on the other hand, of a party that came to the church and\nrequested to be married with a church key. It was \"a parish wedding,\"\nand the parish authorities, though willing to pay the church fees,\nbecause, as the account runs, \"they were glad to get rid of the\ngirl,\" had not felt disposed to provide the wedding-ring. The clerk,\nhowever, feeling some hesitation as to the substitution of the church\nkey, stepped into a neighbouring house, and there borrowed an old\n_curtain ring_, with which the marriage was solemnised. Again, most\nladies are especially particular in their notions respecting their\nwedding-ring, objecting under any pretence to take it off from their\nfinger, extending, it would seem, the expression of \"till death us do\npart,\" even to this pledge and token of matrimony.\n\nIn various parts of the country we find many a curious marriage\ncustom, of which, however, we can only give one or two instances.\nThus, in some parts of Kent, it was formerly customary to strew the\npathway to the church of the bridal couple, not with flowers, but\nwith emblems of the bridegroom's trade. A carpenter, for instance,\nwalked on shavings, a paperhanger on slips of paper, a blacksmith on\npieces of old iron, and so on. In some parts of Durham the bridal\nparty was, in days gone by, generally escorted to church by men armed\nwith guns, which they fired again and again in honour of the festive\noccasion. In Scotland there was an amusing custom, called \"Creeling\nthe bridegroom.\" A basket or creel was filled with heavy stones and\nfixed to the bridegroom's shoulder, and with this burden he was\nobliged to run about until his wife unfastened the creel.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nDEATH AND BURIAL.\n\n    Warnings of Death--The Howling of Dogs--A Cow in the Garden--\n    Death-presaging Birds--Plants--The Will-o'-the-Wisp--The\n    Sympathy between Two Personalities--Prophecy--Dying\n    Hardly--The Last Act--Place and Position of the Grave.\n\n\nThe superstitions associated with the last stage of human life are\nmost numerous; and that this should be so is not surprising when it\nis considered how, from the earliest time, a certain dread has been\nattached to death, not only on account of its awful mysteriousness,\nbut owing to its being the crisis of an entirely new phase of the\nsoul's existence.\n\nCommencing then with popular omens, it may be noted that every\nincident out of the common course of natural events is looked upon\nby the superstitious as indicative of approaching death. Hence\nwe find the credulous ever conjuring up in their minds imaginary\nprognostications of this sad occurrence, which, apart from the\nneedless terror they cause, are based on no foundation of truth.\nForemost among these is the howling of a dog at night, a superstition\nwhich, while not confined to our own country, appears to have been\nalmost as well known in ancient times as at the present day. As\na plea, however, for its prevalence, even among the educated, we\nmight urge that it is not unnatural for the mind, when unstrung\nand overbalanced by the presence of sickness and impending death,\nto be over-sensitive, and to take notice of every little sound and\nsight which may seem to connect themselves with its anxiety. Out\nof the innumerable instances which are recorded in our own country\nrespecting this popular superstition, may be mentioned one which\nhappened a few years ago at Worthing. It appears that no slight\nconsternation was caused by a Newfoundland dog, the property of a\nclergyman in the neighbourhood, lying down on the steps of a house\nand howling piteously, refusing to be driven away. As soon as it\nwas known that a young lady, long an invalid, had died there, so\nmuch excitement took place that news of the occurrence reached the\nowner of the dog, who came to Worthing to inquire into the truth of\nit. Unfortunately, however, for the lovers of and believers in the\nmarvellous, it eventually turned out that the dog had by accident\nbeen separated from his master late in the evening, and had been seen\nrunning here and there in search of him, and howling at the door of\nthe stable where he put up his horse, and other places which he often\nvisited in Worthing. It happened, moreover, that his master had been\nin the habit of visiting the particular house where the young lady\nhad died, which at once accounted for the apparent mystery. In the\nsame way, indeed, other similar instances of this superstition might\nbe easily cleared up, if only properly investigated at the time of\nthe occurrence. The howling of the dog is ascribed by some to its\nkeen sense of the odour of approaching mortal dissolution; whereas\nothers affirm that this animal can see the spirits which hover round\nthe house of sickness, ready at the moment of death to bear away the\nsoul of the departed one to its distant home. In Aryan mythology the\ndog is said to see ghosts, and in Germany, at the present day, a dog\nhowling before a house portends either a death or a fire. In Wales,\nit is thought that horses, too, have the gift of seeing spirits.\nCarriage-horses, it is said, have been known to display every sign of\nthe utmost terror, although the occupants of the carriage could see\nno cause for alarm. Such an occurrence is considered highly ominous,\nand thought to forebode that a funeral will soon pass by that way,\nbearing to his resting-place some person not dead at the time of the\nhorse's fright.\n\nWhilst speaking of animals in connection with death, it may be\nnoted that an ox or a cow breaking into a garden is an omen of\ndeath. In illustration of this notion a correspondent of _Notes and\nQueries_ relates the following narrative as written down by himself\nabout the time to which it relates. He says, \"Though I laugh at the\nsuperstition, the omen was painfully fulfilled in my case. About the\nmiddle of March, 1843, some cattle were driven close to my house, and\nthe back door being open, three got into our little bit of garden,\nand trampled it. When our school-drudge came in the afternoon, and\nasked the cause of the confusion, she expressed great sorrow and\napprehension on being told--said that it was a bad sign--that we\nshould hear of three deaths within the next six months. Alas! in\nApril we heard of dear J----'s murder; a fortnight after A---- died;\nand to-morrow, August 10th, I attend the funeral of my excellent\nson-in-law. I have just heard of the same omen from another quarter.\nBut what is still more remarkable is that when I went down to Mr.\nM----'s burial, and was mentioning the superstition, they told me\nthat while he was lying ill, a cow got into the front garden and was\ndriven out with great difficulty. It is still a common saying in\nScotland, when any one is dangerously ill, and not likely to recover,\n'The black ox has trampled upon him.'\"\n\nAnother common omen of death is the hovering of birds around a\nhouse, and their tapping against the window-pane. Amongst the\ndeath-presaging birds may be mentioned the raven, the crow, and the\nswallow. The crowing of the cock, also, at the dead of night is\nregarded as equally ominous. The appearance of a jackdaw is in some\nparts of the country much dreaded. Thus a correspondent of _Notes\nand Queries_ tells us, that a stonemason at Clifton related to him\nan accident that happened to a workman at the suspension bridge over\nthe Avon, at the time when the river was simply spanned by a single\nchain, placing much emphasis on the fact that a single jackdaw had\nbeen noticed by some of the workmen perched upon the centre of the\nchain, and had been regarded by them as a precursor of death. We\nmust not omit the evil reputation of the owl and the magpie; and a\nwell-known superstition current in some parts that to catch a sparrow\nand keep it confined in a cage is an omen of death. Once more, it is\na bad sign when an invalid asks for a dish of pigeons to eat, such an\noccurrence being considered an omen of his approaching death. Some\nalso affirm that if one hears the cuckoo's first note when in bed,\nillness or death is certain to come upon the hearer or one of his\nfamily. If any one be about to die suddenly, or lose a relation, the\ncuckoo will light upon a piece of touchwood, or rotten bough, and\n_cuckoo_.\n\nPlants, in the next place, are sometimes regarded as ominous of\napproaching mortality. When, for example, an apple-tree or pear-tree\nblooms twice in the year it denotes a death in the family. If,\ntoo, green broom be picked when in bloom it is believed that the\nfather or mother will die in the course of the year. Mrs. Latham,\nin her \"West Sussex Superstitions,\" gives the following touching\nlittle anecdote:--\"A poor girl, who was lingering in the last stage\nof consumption, but whose countenance had always lighted up with\npleasure at the sight of flowers, appeared one morning so exceedingly\nrestless and unhappy after a fresh nosegay of gay spring flowers had\nbeen laid upon her bed, that I asked her if the scent of them was\ndisagreeable to her. 'Oh, no!' she exclaimed, 'they are very nice\nindeed to smell; but yet I should be very glad if you would throw\naway that piece of yellow broom; for they do say that death comes\nwith it if it is brought into the house in blossom during the month\nof May.'\" According to a Yorkshire superstition, if a child gathers\nthe germander speedwell its mother will die during the year; and\nothers consider it equally unlucky to bring the first snowdrop of\nthe year into the house. To dream that a tree is uprooted in one's\ngarden is regarded as a death-warning to the owner. Indeed plants\nmay be said to hold an important place in the folk-lore of death, so\nmany curious legends and quaint superstitions having clustered round\nthem both in ancient and modern times. Thus, to quote one further\ninstance, if yew is accidentally brought into the house at Christmas\namong the evergreens, it is looked upon as a sign that a death will\noccur in the family before the end of the year.\n\nAmong other omens of death, may be noticed the will-o'-the-wisp,\nwhich has on this account been much dreaded, its undulating movement\nbeing carefully observed, from an anxiety to ascertain in which\ndirection it disappears, as it is supposed to be--\n\n    \"The hateful messenger of heavy things,\n      Of death and dolour telling\"\n\nto the inhabitants of the house nearest that spot. We have heard\nalso of an occasion in which considerable uneasiness was created\nby a pale light moving over the bed of a sick person, and after\nflickering for some time in different parts of the room to vanish\nthrough the window. It happened, however, that the mystery was\ncleared up soon afterwards, for, on a similar light appearing, it\nwas found to proceed from a luminous insect, which proved to be the\nmale glow-worm. In the same way the \"corpse-candles\" in Wales, also\ncalled the \"fetch-lights,\" or \"dead man's candles,\" are regarded as\nforerunners of death. Sometimes this unlucky sign appears in the\nform of a plain yellow candle, in the hand of a ghost, and at other\ntimes it looks like \"a stately flambeau, stalking along unsupported,\nburning with ghastly blue flame.\" It is considered highly dangerous\nto interfere with this fatal portent, and persons who have attempted\nto check its course are reported to have been severely afflicted in\nconsequence, many being actually struck down on the spot where they\nstood as a punishment for their audacity.\n\nThere is a popular idea prevalent in Lancashire that to build\nor even to rebuild a house is always fatal to one member of the\nfamily--generally to the one who may have been the principal promoter\nof the plans for the building or alteration. Again, we are also told\nhow the household clock has been known to depart from its customary\nprecision in order to warn its owner of approaching death by\nstriking _thirteen_. A clergyman relates that one evening he called\non an old friend more than eighty years of age, who had lost her\nhusband about six months before. Whilst sitting with her he heard the\nclock strike the hour in an adjoining room, and counted it _seven_.\nBeing surprised that it was no later he involuntarily took out his\nwatch, and found that it was in reality _eight_ o'clock. The old lady\nnoticing this remarked, \"Ah! the clock lost a stroke against my poor\nhusband's death, and I have not altered it since.\"\n\nAccording to another very common superstition there seems to be a\nkind of sympathy and harmony between two personalities, whereby dying\npersons themselves announce their departure to their friends in\ncertain mysterious ways. Countless instances are on record of such\nsupposed forebodings of death. A curious and interesting example\nof this species of folk-lore happened not so very long ago, in\nconnection with the lamented death of Mr. George Smith, the eminent\nAssyriologist. This famous scholar died at Aleppo, on the 19th of\nAugust, 1876, at or about the hour of six in the afternoon. On the\nsame day, and at about the same time, a friend and fellow-worker of\nMr. Smith's--Dr. Delitzsch--was passing within a stone's-throw of the\nhouse in which Mr. Smith had lived whilst in London, when he suddenly\nheard his own name uttered aloud in a \"most piercing cry,\" which,\nsays _The Daily News_ (Sept. 12th, 1876) thrilled him to the marrow.\nThe fact impressed him so strongly that he looked at his watch, noted\nthe hour, and, although he did not mention the circumstance at the\ntime, recorded it in his note-book.\n\nAgain, as a further illustration, we are told how on board one of\nHer Majesty's ships lying off Portsmouth, the officers being one\nday at mess, a young lieutenant suddenly laid down his knife and\nfork, pushed away his plate, and turned extremely pale. He then\nrose from the table, covered his face with his hands, and retired.\nThe president of the mess, supposing him to be ill, sent to make\ninquiries. At first he was unwilling to reply; but on being pressed\nhe confessed that he had been seized by a sudden and irresistible\nimpression that a brother he had in India was dead. \"He died,\" said\nhe, \"on the 12th August, at six o'clock; I am perfectly convinced of\nit.\" No argument could overthrow his conviction, which in due course\nof time was verified to the letter. Events of this kind, which in\nthe minds of many seem to point to a mysterious sympathy between two\nindividuals, are explained by others as simply the result of \"fancy\nand coincidence.\" Any one, it is argued, may fall into a brown study,\nand emerge from it with a stare, and the notion that he heard his\nname spoken. That is the part of fancy, and the simultaneous event is\nthe part of coincidence. Against this theory it will always be argued\nthat these coincidences are too many to be accidental, and this\nposition, as a writer in _The Daily News_ has shown, will generally\nbe met by counter-efforts to weaken the evidence for each individual\ncase, and so to reduce the cumulative evidence to nothing. Taking\ninto consideration however, the countless instances which are on\nrecord of this kind, many of them apparently resting on evidence\nbeyond impeachment, we must, whilst allotting to them the credence\nthey deserve, honestly admit they are occasionally beyond the limits\nof human explanation.\n\nFrom a very early period there has existed a belief in the existence\nof the power of prophecy at that period which precedes death. It\nprobably took its origin in the assumed fact that the soul becomes\ndivine in the same rate as the connection with the body is loosened.\nIt has been urged in support of this theory that at the hour of death\nthe soul is, as it were, on the confines of two worlds, and may\npossibly at the same moment possess a power which is both prospective\nand retrospective. Shakespeare in his _Richard II._ (Act ii., sc.\n1) makes the dying Gaunt, alluding to his nephew, the young and\nself-willed king, exclaim:--\n\n    \"Methinks I am a prophet new inspired,\n    And thus expiring do foretell of him.\"\n\nAgain in _1 Henry IV._ (Act v., sc. 4), the brave Percy, when in the\nagonies of death, conveys the same idea in the following words:--\n\n                      \"O, I could prophesy,\n    But that the earthy and cold hand of death\n    Lies on my tongue.\"\n\nSome have sought for the foundation of this belief in the forty-ninth\nchapter of Genesis:--\"And Jacob called his sons, and said, Gather\nyourselves together, that I may tell you that which shall befall you\nin the last days. And when Jacob had made an end of commanding his\nsons, he gathered up his feet into his bed, and yielded up the ghost,\nand was gathered unto his people.\" This notion has not died out, but\nstill prevails in Lancashire and other parts of England.\n\nReferring to death itself, there is a widespread belief that deaths\nmostly occur during the ebbing of the tide: a superstition to which\nCharles Dickens has so touchingly alluded in \"David Copperfield.\"\nWhile the honest-hearted Mr. Peggotty sat by the bedside of poor\nBarkis, and watched life's flame gradually growing dimmer, he said to\nDavid Copperfield, \"People can't die along the coast except when the\ntide's pretty nigh out. They can't be born unless it's pretty nigh\nin. Not properly born till flood. He's agoing out with the tide--he's\nagoing out with the tide. It's ebb at half-arter three, slack water\nhalf an hour. If he lives till it turns, he'll hold his own till past\nthe flood, and go out with the next tide.\" And after many hours'\nwatching, \"it being low water, he went out with the tide.\"\n\nPersons, too, are said to \"die hard,\" to quote a popular phrase, or,\nin other words, to have a painful and prolonged death, when there\nare pigeons' feathers in the bed. Hence, some will not allow dying\npersons to lie on a feather bed at all, maintaining that it very\nmuch increases the pain, and retards the inevitable crisis of their\ndeparture. Many, on the other hand, have a superstitious feeling that\nit is a great misfortune, nay, even a judgment, not to die in a bed.\nMany are the anecdotes illustrative of the former superstition, one\nor two of which we will quote. Thus a Sussex nurse one day told the\nwife of her clergyman that \"never did she see any one die so hard as\nold Master Short; and at last she thought (though his daughter said\nthere were none) that there must be game-feathers in the bed. She,\ntherefore, tried to pull it from under him, but he was a heavy man\nand she could not manage it alone, and there was no one with him but\nherself, and so she got a rope and tied it round him and pulled him\nby it off the bed, and he went off in a minute quite comfortable,\njust like a lamb.\" Again, one day, when an old woman near Yarmouth\nwas speaking of the burning of game-feathers as a precaution in case\nof death, her neighbours said to her, \"Of course we don't believe\nthat can have anything to do with a hard death,\" whereupon she\nreplied, \"Then you yourself use such feathers.\" \"Oh, no; we always\nburn them, unless we want them for a chair-cushion.\" The same notion\nprevails in Yorkshire with regard to cocks' feathers. According to\nanother popular fancy a person cannot die comfortably under the\ncross-beam of a house, and we are told of the case of a man of whom\nit was said at his death, that after many hours' hard dying, being\nremoved from the position under the cross-beam, he departed peaceably.\n\nAgain, the interval between death and burial has generally been\nassociated with various superstitious fears and practices. Thus, as\nsoon as the corpse is laid out there is still a widespread custom of\nplacing a plate of salt upon the breast, the reason being no doubt\nto prevent the body swelling; although there is a belief that it acts\nas a charm against any attempt on the part of evil spirits to disturb\nthe body. Pennant tells us that formerly in Scotland, \"the corpse\nbeing stretched on a board and covered with a coarse linen wrapper,\nthe friends laid on the breast of the deceased a wooden platter,\ncontaining a small quantity of salt and earth, separate and unmixed;\nthe earth an emblem of the corruptible body, the salt as an emblem\nof the immortal spirit.\" Mr. Napier, in his \"Folk-Lore of the West\nof Scotland,\" points out that we may find another explanation for\nthe plate of salt on the breast in the \"sin-eaters,\" persons who, in\ndays gone by, when a person died, were sent for to come and eat the\nsins of the deceased. On their arrival their first act was to place a\nplate of salt and one of bread on the breast of the corpse, repeating\na series of incantations, after which they devoured the contents of\nthe plates. By this ceremony the deceased person was supposed to be\nrelieved of such sins as would have kept his spirit hovering about\nhis relations to their discomfort and annoyance.\n\nIt is customary, especially among the poor, for those who visit a\nhouse while the dead body is lying in it to touch the corpse, thereby\nshowing that they owe the departed one no grudge. This practice, in\nall probability, originated in the belief that a corpse would bleed\nat the touch of the murderer, constant allusions to which we find in\nold authors.\n\nThe practice of watching the dead body until its burial is not yet\nobsolete, a custom indeed which, among the Irish, is even still\noccasionally the scene of the most unseemly revelries, those present\noftentimes indulging in excessive drinking and riotous merry-making.\nIn days gone by, however, this practice was attended with every mark\nof respect to the deceased one, the leading idea being to see that\nthe devil did not carry off the body.\n\nLastly, since the formation of cemeteries, many of the quaint old\nfuneral customs which formerly existed in many of our country\nvillages have passed away. Now-a-days, the \"last act,\" as the\ncommittal of the body to the grave has been termed, has been shorn\nof much of its pomp. Thus, in the North of England it was customary,\nonly a few years ago, to carry \"the dead with the sun\" to the grave,\na practice corresponding with the Highland usage of making \"the\ndeazil,\" or walking three times round a person, according to the\ncourse of the sun. On one occasion, in the village of Stranton, near\nWest Hartlepool, the vicar was standing at the churchyard gate,\nawaiting the arrival of the funeral procession, when, much to his\nsurprise, the entire group, who had come within a few yards of him,\nsuddenly turned back and marched round the churchyard wall, thus\ntraversing its west, north, and east boundaries. On inquiring the\nreason of this extraordinary procedure, one of the mourners quickly\nreplied, \"Why, ye wad no hae them carry the dead again the sun; the\ndead maun ay go wi' the sun.\" This is not unlike a Welsh custom\nmentioned by Pennant, who tells us that when a corpse was conveyed\nto the churchyard from any part of the town, great care was always\ntaken that it should be carried the whole distance on the right-hand\nside of the road. A curious custom, which still survives at Welsh\nfunerals, is termed \"the parson's penny.\" After reading the burial\nservice in the church, the clergyman stands behind a table while a\npsalm is being sung. In the meantime each of the mourners places a\npiece of money on the table for his acceptance. This ceremony is\nregarded as a token of respect to the deceased, although it was no\ndoubt originally intended to compensate the clergyman for praying for\nthe soul of the departed. In some Welsh parishes a similar custom,\ncalled \"spade-money,\" is observed. As soon as the corpse has been\ncommitted to its resting-place, the grave-digger presents his spade\nas a receptacle for donations, these offerings, which often amount to\na goodly sum, being regarded as his perquisites.\n\nFrom time immemorial there has been a popular prejudice among the\ninhabitants of rural villages against \"burial without the sanctuary.\"\nThis does not imply in unconsecrated ground, but on the north\nside of the church, or in a remote corner of the churchyard. The\norigin of this repugnance is said to have been the notion that the\nnorthern part was that which was appropriated to the interment of\nunbaptised infants, excommunicated persons, or such as had laid\nviolent hands upon themselves. Hence it was generally known as \"the\nwrong side of the church.\" In many parishes, therefore, this spot\nremained unoccupied while the remaining portion of the churchyard\nwas crowded. White, in his \"History of Selborne,\" alluding to this\nsuperstition, says that as most people wished to be buried on the\nsouth side of the churchyard, it became such a mass of mortality that\nno person could be interred \"without disturbing or displacing the\nbones of his ancestors.\" A clergyman of a rural parish in Norfolk\nsays:--\"If I were on any occasion to urge a parishioner to inter a\ndeceased relative on the north side of the church, he would answer me\nwith some expression of surprise, if not of offence, at the proposal,\n'No, sir, it is not in the sanctuary.'\"\n\nGreat attention has, also, generally been paid to the position of\nthe grave, the popular idea being from east to west, while that\nfrom north to south has been considered not only dishonourable,\nbut unlucky. Indeed, the famous antiquary, Thomas Hearne, was so\nparticular on this point that he left orders for his grave to be made\nstraight by a compass, due east and west. In _Cymbeline_ (Act iv.,\nsc. 2), Guiderius, speaking of the apparently dead body of Imogen\ndisguised in man's apparel, says:--\n\n    \"Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east;\n    My father hath a reason for 't.\"\n\nIt is worthy of notice that the burial of the dead among the Greeks\nwas in the line of east and west; and thus it is not to late and\nisolated fancy, but to the carrying on of ancient and widespread\nsolar ideas, as Mr. Tylor has so clearly shown, that we trace the\nwell-known legend that the body of Christ was laid towards the east,\nand the Christian usage of digging graves east and west. A pretty\ncustom was once observed in many of our country villages at the\nfuneral of a young unmarried girl, or of a bride who died in her\nhoneymoon; a chaplet of flowers being carried before the corpse by a\ngirl nearest in age, size, and resemblance, and afterwards hung up in\nthe church over the accustomed seat of the deceased.\n\nAmong other customs connected with burial may be mentioned \"funeral\nfeasts,\" which have prevailed in this and other countries from\nthe earliest times, and are supposed to have been borrowed from\nthe _Coena feralis_ of the Romans: an offering, consisting of\nmilk, honey, wine, aloes, and strewed flowers, to the ghost of the\ndeceased. In a variety of forms this custom has prevailed amongst\nmost nations, the idea being that the spirits of the dead feed on\nthe viands set before them. In Christian times, however, these\nfuneral offerings have passed into commemorative banquets, under\nwhich form they still exist amongst us. In the north of England the\nfuneral feast is called \"an arval,\" and the loaves that are sometimes\ndistributed among the poor are termed \"arval bread.\"\n\nThe poor seem to have always been fond of inviting a large number\nof friends to attend a funeral. Instances are on record of a barrel\nof beer, two gallons of sack, and four gallons of claret being\nconsumed at a funeral, and the cost of wine has been five times more\nthan the cost of the coffin. In one of the parishes on the borders\nof Norfolk there is a tradition, says Mr. Glyde in his \"Norfolk\nGarland,\" that when the warrior Sir Robert Atte Tye was buried, four\ndozen of wine were drunk, according to his last directions, over\nhis grave, before the coffin was covered with earth. Many curious\nanecdotes might be given of funerals having been solemnised within\nthe church-porch, and of the scruples entertained by great men as\nto the practice of interment in churches. A part of the churchyard,\ntoo, was occasionally left unconsecrated for the purpose of burying\nexcommunicated persons. Among some of the superstitions associated\nwith burial we may just note that it is considered by some unlucky to\nmeet a funeral; and that, according to another notion, the ghost of\nthe last person buried keeps watch over the churchyard till another\nis buried, to whom he delivers his charge.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE HUMAN BODY.\n\n    Superstitions about Deformity, Moles, &c.--Tingling of the\n    Ear--The Nose--The Eye--The Teeth--The Hair--The Hand--Dead\n    Man's Hand--The Feet.\n\n\nIn the preceding pages we have given a brief survey of that\nwidespread folk-lore with which the life of man has been invested,\nstage by stage, from the cradle to the grave. In like manner the\npopular imagination has, in most countries from the earliest times,\nwoven round the human body a thick network of superstitions, many\nof which, while of the nature of omens, are supposed to indicate\ncertain facts, such as the person's character, the events connected\nwith his life, and to give that insight into his future career which\neager curiosity would strive to ascertain. Thus, according to an old\nprejudice, which is not quite extinct, those who are defective or\ndeformed are marked by nature as prone to mischief, in accordance\nwith which notion Shakespeare makes Margaret, speaking of Richard,\nDuke of Gloucester, in _King Richard III._ (Act i., sc. 3), say:--\n\n    \"Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rotting hog\n    Thou that was seal'd in thy nativity\n    The slave of nature and the son of hell.\"\n\nMoles, too, have generally been thought to denote good or ill-luck\nfrom their position on the body. Thus one on the throat is a sign\nof luck, but one on the left side of the forehead near the hair is\njust the reverse. Again, a mole on either the chin, ear, or neck is\nan indication of riches, but one on the breast signifies poverty.\nIndeed, if we are to believe the \"Greenwich Fortune-teller,\" a\npopular chap-book in former years, omens to be drawn from moles are\nalmost unlimited.\n\nReferring, however, more especially to the folk-lore associated with\nthe different parts of the human body, this, as we have already\nstated, is very extensive, being in many cases the legacy bequeathed\nto us by our ancestors. Commencing, then, with the ear, there is a\nwell-known superstition that a tingling of the right one is lucky,\ndenoting that a friend is speaking well of one; a tingling of the\nleft implying the opposite. This notion differs according to the\nlocality, as in some places it is the tingling of the left ear which\ndenotes the friend, and the tingling of the right ear the enemy.\nShakespeare, in _Much Ado about Nothing_ (Act iii., sc. 1), makes\nBeatrice say to Ursula and Hero, who had been talking of her, \"What\nfire is in mine ears?\" in allusion, it is generally supposed, to\nthis popular fancy, which is old as the time of Pliny, who says,\n\"When our ears tingle some one is talking of us in our absence.\"\nSir Thomas Browne also ascribes the idea to the belief in guardian\nangels, who touch the right or left ear according as the conversation\nis favourable or not to the person. The Scotch peasantry have an omen\ncalled the \"death-bell\"--a tingling in the ears which is believed to\nannounce some friend's death. Hogg alludes to this superstition in\nhis \"Mountain Bard\":--\n\n    \"O lady, 'tis dark, an' I heard the death-bell,\n    An' I darena gae yonder for gowd nor fee,\"\n\nand gives also an amusing anecdote illustrative of it:--\"Our two\nservant-girls agreed to go on an errand of their own, one night after\nsupper, to a considerable distance, from which I strove to persuade\nthem, but could not prevail; so, after going to the apartment where\nI slept, I took a drinking-glass, and coming close to the back of\nthe door made two or three sweeps round the lip of the glass with\nmy finger, which caused a loud shrill sound, and then overheard the\nfollowing dialogue:--\n\n\"_B._ 'Ah, mercy! the dead-bell went through my head just now with\nsuch a knell as I never heard.'\n\n\"_I._ 'I heard it too.'\n\n\"_B._ 'Did you indeed? That is remarkable. I never knew of two\nhearing it at the same time before.'\n\n\"_I._ 'We will not go to Midgehope to-night.'\n\n\"_B._ 'I would not go for all the world! I shall warrant it is my\npoor brother Wat. Who knows what these wild Irish may have done to\nhim?'\"\n\nThe itching of the nose, like that of the ears, is not without\nits signification, denoting that a stranger will certainly appear\nbefore many hours have passed by, in allusion to which Dekker, in\nhis \"Honest Whore,\" says:--\"We shall ha' guests to-day; my nose\nitcheth so.\" In the north of England, however, if the nose itches it\nis reckoned a sign that the person will either be crossed, vexed,\nor kissed by a fool; whereas an old writer tells us that \"when a\nman's nose itcheth it is a signe he shall drink wine.\" Many omens,\ntoo, are gathered from bleeding of the nose. Thus Grose says, \"One\ndrop of blood from the nose commonly foretells death or a very\nsevere fit of sickness; three drops are still more ominous;\" and\naccording to another notion one drop from the left nostril is a sign\nof good luck, and _vice vers\u00e2_. Bleeding of the nose seems also\nto have been regarded as a sign of love, if we may judge from a\npassage in Boulster's \"Lectures,\" published early in the seventeenth\ncentury:--\"'Did my nose ever bleed when I was in your company?' and,\npoor wretch, just as she spake this, to show her true heart, her\nnose fell a-bleeding.\" Again, that bleeding of the nose was looked\nupon as ominous in days gone by, we may gather from Launcelot's\nexclamation in the _Merchant of Venice_ (Act ii., sc. 5), \"It was\nnot for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday last at\nsix o'clock\"--a superstition to which many of our old writers refer.\nAmong further superstitions connected with the nose we may mention\none in Cornwall, known as \"the blue vein,\" an illustration of which\noccurs in Mr. Hunt's \"Popular Romances of the West of England,\" who\nrelates the following little anecdote:--\"A fond mother was paying\nmore than ordinary attention to a fine healthy-looking child, a boy\nabout three years old. The poor woman's breast was heaving with\nemotion, and she struggled to repress her sighs. Upon inquiring if\nanything was really wrong, she said, 'The old lady of the house had\njust told her that the child could not live long because he had a\nblue vein across his nose.'\" This piece of folk-lore, which caused\nthe anxious mother such distress, is not confined to the West of\nEngland, but crops up here and there throughout the country. While\nspeaking of the nose, we may just note that it is the subject of\nvarious proverbs. Thus \"to put the nose out of joint\" means to\nsupplant one in another's favour, and the popular one of \"paying\nthrough the nose,\" implying extortion, may, it has been suggested,\nhave originated in a poll-tax levied by Odin, which was called in\nSweden a nose-tax, and was a penny per nose or poll. Once more,\nwe have the term \"nose of wax\" applied to a person who is very\naccommodating, and one may occasionally hear the phrase \"wipe the\nnose\" used in the sense of affront.\n\nLeaving the nose, however, we find similar odd fancies attached\nto the eye. In many places we are told that \"it's a good thing to\nhave meeting eyebrows, as such a person will never know trouble,\"\nalthough, curious to say, on the Continent quite a different\nsignificance is attributed to this peculiarity. In Greece, for\ninstance, it is held as an omen that the man is a vampire, and in\nDenmark and Germany it is said to indicate that he is a werewolf. In\nChina, also, there is a proverb that \"people whose eyebrows meet can\nnever expect to attain to the dignity of a minister of state.\" There\ncan be no doubt that, according to the general idea, meeting eyebrows\nare not considered lucky:--\n\n    \"Trust not the man whose eyebrows meet,\n    For in his heart you'll find deceit.\"\n\nThus, Charles Kingsley, in \"Two Years Ago,\" speaks of this idea\nin the following passage:--\"Tom began carefully scrutinising Mrs.\nHarvey's face. It had been very handsome. It was still very clever,\nbut the eyebrows clashed together downwards above her nose, and\nrising higher at the outward corners, indicated, as surely as the\nrestless down-drop eye, a character self-conscious, furtive, capable\nof great inconsistencies, possibly of great deceit.\"\n\nAgain, the itching of the right eye is considered a lucky omen, an\nidea that is very old, and may be traced as far back as the time of\nTheocritus, who says:--\n\n    \"My right eye itches now, and I shall see my love.\"\n\nAccording to the antiquary Grose, however, who collected together\nso many of the superstitions prevalent in his day, \"When the right\neye itches, the party affected will shortly cry; if the left, they\nwill laugh.\" The power of fascination has generally been considered\nto be a peculiar quality of the eye, a notion by no means obsolete,\nand numerous charms have been resorted to for counteracting its\ninfluence. In our chapter on \"Birth and Infancy\" we have already\nspoken of the danger to which young children are said to be subject\nfrom the malevolent power of some evil eye, and of the pernicious\neffects resulting from it. Shakespeare gives several references to\nit, one of which occurs in the _Merry Wives of Windsor_ (Act v., sc.\n5), where Pistol says of Falstaff:--\n\n    \"Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.\"\n\nAnd once more, in _Titus Andronicus_ (Act ii., sc. 1), Aaron speaks\nof Tamora as\n\n    \"----fetter'd in amorous chains--\n    And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes,\n    Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.\"\n\nIt was not very long ago that a curious case of this superstition was\nbrought before the guardians of the Shaftesbury Union, in which an\napplicant for relief stated his inability to work because he had been\n\"overlooked\" by his sister-in-law. Although his wife had resorted\nfor help to a wise-woman, yet she was unable to remove the spell\nunder which he lay, and thus the unfortunate man, incapable of labour,\napplied for relief, which he did not obtain.\n\nIn the next place, some of the superstitions connected with the teeth\nare quaint, and afford opportunities to the credulous for drawing\nomens of various kinds. Thus, to dream about teeth is held to be a\nwarning that sorrow of some kind is at hand; and it is even unluckier\nstill to dream of one's teeth falling out. It is also frequently the\ncustom, for the sake of luck, to throw a tooth when extracted into\nthe fire, a practice which, as we have already seen, is frequently\nmost scrupulously kept up in the case of young children, to make\nsure of the remainder of their teeth coming properly. Furthermore,\nto have teeth wide apart is a sign of prosperity, and is said to\nindicate one's future happiness in life. As an instance of this piece\nof folk-lore we may quote the following, narrated by a correspondent\nin _Notes and Queries_:--\"A young lady the other day, in reply to an\nobservation of mine, 'What a lucky girl you are!' replied, 'So they\nused to say I should be when at school.' 'Why?' 'Because my teeth\nwere set so far apart; it was a sure sign I should be lucky and\ntravel.'\" Trivial as many of these superstitions may seem, yet they\nare interesting, inasmuch as they show how minutely the imagination\nhas at different times surrounded the human body with countless items\nof odd notions, some of which in all probability originated from\npractical experience, while others have been the result of a thousand\ncircumstances, to ascertain the history of which would be a matter of\nlong and elaborate research.\n\nPassing on to the hair, there is a popular notion that sudden fright\nor violent distress will, to use Sir Walter Scott's words, \"blanch at\nonce the hair.\" Thus, in Shakespeare's _1 Henry IV._ (Act ii., sc.\n4), Falstaff, in his speech to Prince Henry, says:--\n\n    \"Thy father's beard is turned white with the news.\"\n\nAlthough this has been styled \"a whimsical notion,\" yet in its\nsupport various instances of its occurrence have been from time\nto time recorded. The hair of Ludwig of Bavaria, for example, it\nis said, became almost suddenly white as snow on his learning the\ninnocence of his wife, whom he had caused to be put to death on a\nsuspicion of infidelity; and the same thing, we are told, happened\nto Charles I. in a single night, when he attempted to escape from\nCarisbrooke Castle. A similar story is told of the unfortunate Marie\nAntoinette, when her flight from France was checked at Varennes.\nAccording to another notion, excessive fear has occasionally caused\nthe hair to stand on end, a belief which Shakespeare has recorded. In\n_Hamlet_ (Act iii., sc. 4), in that famous passage where the Queen\nis at a loss to understand her son's mysterious conduct and strange\nappearance, during his conversation with the ghost which is hidden to\nher eyes, she says:--\n\n    \"And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,\n    Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,\n    Starts up, and stands on end.\"\n\nOnce more, too, in that graphic scene in the _Tempest_ (Act i., sc.\n2), where Ariel describes the shipwreck, he says:--\n\n                            \"All but mariners\n    Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,\n    Then all afire with me; the king's son, Ferdinand,\n    With hair up-staring--then like reeds, not hair--\n    Was the first man that leap'd.\"\n\nThe sudden loss of hair is considered unlucky, being said to\nprognosticate the loss of children, health, or property; whereas many\nconsider it imprudent to throw it away, or to leave the smallest\nscrap lying about. One reason assigned for this notion is that if\nhair is left about, birds might build their nests with it, a fatal\nthing for the person from whose head it has fallen. Thus, should\na magpie use it for any such purpose--by no means an unlikely\ncircumstance--the person's death will be sure to happen \"within a\nyear and a day.\" Some say, again, that hair should never be burnt,\nbut only buried, a superstition founded on a tradition that at the\nresurrection its owner will come in search of it. On the other hand,\nit is customary with some persons to throw a piece of their hair\ninto the fire, drawing various omens from the way it burns. Should\nit gradually smoulder away, it is an omen of death; but its burning\nbrightly is a sign of longevity, and the brighter the flame the\nlonger the life. In Devonshire, too, if the hair grows down on the\nforehead and retreats up the head above the temples, it is considered\nan indication that the person will have a long life. There is a very\nprevalent idea that persons who have much hair or down on their arms\nare, to quote the common expression, \"born to be rich,\" although the\nexception, in this as in many other similar cases, rather proves the\nrule; but abundance of hair on the head has been supposed to denote a\nlack of brains, from whence arose an odd proverb, \"Bush natural, more\nhair than wit.\" Once more, Judas is said to have had red hair, and\nhence, from time immemorial, there has been a strong antipathy to it.\nShakespeare, in _As You Like It_ (Act iii., sc. 4), alludes to this\nbelief, when he makes Rosalind say of Orlando:--\n\n    \"His very hair is of the dissembling colour.\"\n\nTo which Celia replies:--\n\n    \"Something browner than Judas's.\"\n\nIt has been conjectured, however, that the odium attached to red\nhair took its origin in this country from the aversion felt to\nthe red-haired Danes. One reason, perhaps, more than another why\nthis dislike to it arose, originated in the circumstance that the\ncolour was thought ugly and unfashionable, and the antipathy to\nit, therefore, would naturally be increased by this opinion. Thus,\nin course of time, a red beard was also held in contempt, and was\nregarded as an infallible token of a vile disposition. Yellow hair,\ntoo, was formerly esteemed a deformity, and in ancient tapestries\nboth Cain and Judas are represented with yellow beards, in allusion\nto which, in the _Merry Wives of Windsor_ (Act i., sc. 4), Simple,\nwhen interrogated, says of his master, \"He hath but a little wee\nface, with a little yellow beard--a Cain-coloured beard.\" While\nalluding to beards, we may note that in former years they gave rise\nto various customs, many of which, however, have long ago fallen\ninto disuse. Thus, dyeing beards was a common practice, and our\nreaders may recollect how Bottom, in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_\n(Act i., sc. 2), is perplexed as to what beard he should wear in\nperforming his part before the Duke. He says, \"I will discharge\nit either in your straw-coloured beard, your orange-tawny beard,\nyour purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour beard,\nyour perfect yellow.\" It was evidently quite as much the habit for\ngentlemen to dye their beards in Shakespeare's day as it is said to\nbe for ladies to dye their locks now-a-days. When beards, too, were\nthe fashion, to mutilate or cut off one was considered an irreparable\noutrage.\n\nPursuing our subject, we find that the cheek is not without its quota\nof folk-lore; for, like the ear, nose, and eye, it is considered\nominous when one's cheek itches. According to Grose, \"If the right\ncheek burns, some one is speaking to the person's advantage; if the\nleft, to their disadvantage.\" One may still occasionally hear the\nfollowing charm uttered by a person whose cheek suddenly burns:--\n\n    \"Right cheek! left cheek! why do you burn?\n      Cursed be she that doth me any harm;\n      If she be a maid, let her be staid;\n      If she be a widow, long let her mourn;\n    But if it be my own true love--burn, cheek, burn.\"\n\nAgain, the hand has been honoured with a very extensive folk-lore,\nand the following extract from an old writer shows that nearly every\npeculiarity of the hand has been made emblematical of some personal\ntrait of character. Thus, we are told:--\"A great thick hand signifies\none not only strong, but stout; a little slender hand, one not only\nweak, but timorous; a long hand and long fingers betoken a man not\nonly apt for mechanical artifice, but liberally ingenious. Those\nshort, on the contrary, note a fool, and fit for nothing; a hard\nbrawny hand signifies one dull and rude; a soft hand, one witty,\nbut effeminate; a hairy hand, one luxurious. Long joints signify\ngenerosity; yet, if they be thick withal, one not so ingenious. The\noften clapping and folding of the hands note covetousness; and their\nmuch moving in speech, loquacity. Short and fat fingers mark a man\nout as intemperate and silly; but long and lean, as witty. If his\nfingers crook upward, that shows him liberal; if downward, niggardly.\nLong nails and crooked signify one to be brutish, ravenous, and\nunchaste; very short nails, pale and sharp, show him subtle and\nbeguiling.\" Among other omens, we are told that the itching of the\nright hand signifies that it will shortly receive money, whereas if\nthe left hand be the one to itch, it is a sign that money will before\nvery many days have to be paid away. In Suffolk the peasants have the\nfollowing rhyme on the subject:--\n\n    \"If your hand itches,\n    You're going to take riches;\n    Rub it on wood,\n    Sure to come good;\n    Rub it on iron,\n    Sure to come flying;\n    Rub it on brass,\n    Sure to come to pass;\n    Rub it on steel,\n    Sure to come a deal;\n    Rub it on tin,\n    Sure to come agin.\"\n\nA moist hand is said to denote an amorous constitution, and in _2\nHenry IV._ (Act i., sc. 2), the Lord Chief Justice enumerates a dry\nhand among the characteristics of age and debility.\n\nPalmistry, or divination by means of the hands, a species of\nfortune-telling still much practised, we have already described in\nanother chapter. A superstition, however, which we must not omit to\nmention, is the practice of rubbing with a dead hand for the purpose\nof taking away disease, instances of which, even now-a-days, are of\noccasional occurrence. Mr. Henderson mentions a case that happened\nabout the year 1853. The wife of a pitman at Castle Eden Colliery,\nwho was suffering from a wen in the neck, went alone, according\nto advice given her by a \"wise woman,\" and lay all night in the\nout-house, with the hand of a corpse on her wen. She had been assured\nthat the hand of a suicide was an infallible cure. The shock, at any\nrate, to her nervous system from that terrible night was so great\nthat she did not rally for some months, and eventually she died from\nthe wen. As a further specimen of this incredible superstition, we\nmay quote the following case, which happened some years ago in an\nEastern county. A little girl of about eight years of age had from\nbirth been troubled with scrofulous disease, and had been reared\nwith great difficulty. Her friends consulted the \"wise man\" of the\nneighbourhood, who told the mother that if she took the girl and\nrubbed her naked body all over with the hand of a dead man she would\nbe cured. The experiment was tried, and the poor little girl was\nnearly killed with fright, and, of course, made no progress whatever\ntowards health.\n\nMany of our readers are, no doubt, acquainted with the famous \"dead\nman's hand,\" which was formerly kept at Bryn Hall, in Lancashire. It\nis said to have been the hand of Father Arrowsmith, a priest who,\naccording to some accounts, was put to death for his religion in the\ntime of William III. Preserved with great care in a white silken bag,\nthis hand was resorted to by many diseased persons, and wonderful\ncures are reported to have been effected by this saintly relic. Thus,\nwe are told of a woman who, afflicted with the small-pox, had this\ndead hand in bed with her every night for six weeks; and of a poor\nlad who was rubbed with it for the cure of scrofulous sores. It is,\nindeed, generally supposed that practices of this kind are rare and\nof exceptional occurrence, but they are far more common than might\nbe imagined, although not recorded in newspapers. This is, however,\nin a great measure owing to the fact that those who believe in and\nhave recourse to such rites observe secresy, for fear of meeting with\nridicule from others.\n\nThe nails, also, as we have mentioned in our chapter on Childhood,\nhave their folk-lore, the little specks which are seen on them being\nregarded as ominous. Many have their particular days for cutting\nthe nails. Of the numerous rhymes on the subject, we may quote the\nfollowing as a specimen, from which it will be seen that every day\nhas its peculiar virtue:--\n\n    \"Cut them on Monday, you cut them for health;\n    Cut them on Tuesday, you cut them for wealth;\n    Cut them on Wednesday, you cut them for news;\n    Cut them on Thursday, a new pair of shoes;\n    Cut them on Friday, you cut them for sorrow;\n    Cut them on Saturday, see your true love to-morrow;\n    Cut them on Sunday, the devil will be with you all the week.\"\n\nThis old rhyming-saw differs in various localities, although in the\nmain points it is the same; as by general consent both Friday and\nSunday are regarded as most inauspicious days for cutting both the\nnails and hair.\n\nOnce more, to sit cross-legged is said to produce good\nfortune; and occasionally at a card-table one may find some\nsuperstitiously-inclined person sitting in this attitude with a\nview of securing good luck. Sir Thomas Browne, on the contrary,\ntells us that in days gone to \"sit cross-legged, or with the fingers\npectinated\" or shut together, was accounted a sign of bad luck: a\nsuperstition alluded to by Pliny. Referring to the feet, we cannot\ndo more than just allude to two or three items of folk-lore with\nwhich they are connected. Thus, a flat-footed person is generally\nconsidered to have a bad temper, a notion indeed which daily\nexperience often proves to be incorrect. The itching of the foot has\nbeen supposed to indicate that its owner will shortly undertake a\nstrange journey; while that unpleasant sensation popularly styled\n\"the foot going to sleep,\" is often charmed away by crossing the\nfoot with saliva. When the division between the toes is incomplete,\nand they are partially joined, they are called \"twin toes,\" and are\nsaid to bring good luck. This section of our \"Domestic Folk-lore\"\nmight have been prolonged to an almost indefinite extent had space\npermitted, but as the preceding pages amply bear witness to the\nprevalence of such ideas, we will proceed to discuss another, and, it\nis to be hoped, not less interesting class of superstitions.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nARTICLES OF DRESS.\n\n    New Clothes at Easter and Whitsuntide--Wearing of Clothes--The\n    Clothes of the Dead--The Apron, Stockings, Garters, &c.--The\n    Shoe--The Glove--The Ring--Pins.\n\n\nOne would scarcely expect to find a host of odd fancies attached to\nsuch matter-of-fact necessities as articles of dress, but yet they\nhold a prominent place in our domestic folk-lore. However trivial at\nfirst sight these may seem, they are nevertheless interesting, in\nso far as they illustrate certain features of our social history,\nand show from another point of view how superstition is interwoven\nwith all that appertains to human life. Beginning, then, with a\nwell-known piece of folk-lore, most persons wear new clothes on\nEaster-Day, mindful of the old admonition:--\n\n    \"At Easter let your clothes be new,\n    Or else be sure you will it rue\"\n\n--a notion that still retains its hold on the popular mind, few being\nfound bold enough to transgress this long-rooted custom. In the North\nof England, so strong is the feeling on this point, that young people\nrarely omit visiting the nearest market-town prior to Eastertide, to\nbuy some new article of dress or personal ornament, as otherwise they\nbelieve the birds--notably rooks--will spoil their clothes. A similar\nfancy prevails with regard to Whitsuntide, and many would consider\nthat they had forfeited their good luck for the next twelve months if\nthey did not appear in \"new things\" on Whitsunday.\n\nThe superstitions relating to clothes are very numerous, varying\nin different localities. Thus, according to a Suffolk notion, \"if\nyou have your clothes mended on your back, you will be ill-spoken\nof,\" or as they say in Sussex, \"you will come to want.\" Again, many\nbefore putting on a new coat or dress, take care to place some money\nin the right-hand pocket, as this insures its always being full. If\nby mistake, however, the money is put in the left-hand pocket, then\nthe person will never have a penny so long as the coat lasts. It\nis also a very prevalent belief that if one would secure luck with\nany article of dress, it must be worn for the first time at church.\nEqual attention, too, is paid by many to the way they put on each\narticle of dress--as, in case of its being accidentally inside out,\nit is considered an omen of success. It is necessary, however, if one\nwishes the omen to hold good, to wear the reversed portion of attire\nwith the wrong side out till the regular time comes for taking it\noff. If reversed earlier, the luck is immediately lost. The idea of\nthe \"hind-side before\" is so closely related to that of \"inside out,\"\nthat one can hardly understand their being taken for contrary omens;\nyet, \"It is worthy of remark, in connection with this superstition,\"\nsays a correspondent of Chambers's \"Book of Days,\" \"that when\nWilliam the Conqueror, in arming himself for the battle of Hastings,\nhappened to put on his shirt of mail with the hind-side before,\nthe bystanders seem to have been shocked by it, as by an ill-omen,\ntill William claimed it as a good one, betokening that he was to be\nchanged from a duke to a king.\" Another piece of superstition tells\nus that the clothes of the dead never last very long, but that as\nthe body decays, so in the same degree do the garments and linen\nwhich belonged to the deceased. Hence, in Essex there is a popular\nsaying to the effect that \"the clothes of the dead always wear full\nof holes.\" When therefore a person dies, and the relatives, it may\nbe, give away the clothes to the poor, one may frequently hear a\nremark of this kind, \"Ah, they may look very well, but they won't\nwear; they belong to the dead.\" A similar belief prevails in Denmark,\nwhere a corpse is not allowed to be buried in the clothes of a living\nperson, lest as the clothes rot in the grave, that person to whom\nthey belonged should waste away and perish. In accordance also with\na superstition prevalent in the Netherlands, the rings of a dead\nfriend or relative are never given away, as it is a sure sign that the\ngiver too will soon die. An absurd notion exists in many parts--one\nmuch credited by our country peasantry--that if a mother gives away\nall the baby's clothes in her possession, she will be sure to have\nanother addition to her family, although the event may be contrary\nto all expectation. Among other items of folk-lore associated with\nclothes, we may mention that in the North of England to put a button\nor hook into the wrong hole while one is dressing in the morning, is\nheld to be a warning that some misfortune will happen in the course\nof the day; and in Northamptonshire it is said that servants who go\nto their places in black will never stay the year out. A Dorsetshire\nsuperstition is that if a gentleman accidentally burns the tail\nof his coat, or a lady the hem of her skirt, during a visit at a\nfriend's house, it is a proof they will repeat their visit.\n\nAnother article of dress that has its superstitions is the apron,\nwhich some women turn before the new moon, to insure good luck\nfor the ensuing month. In Yorkshire, when a married woman's apron\nfalls off, it is a sign that something is coming to vex her;\nwhen, however, the apron of an unmarried girl drops down, she is\nfrequently the object of laughter, as there is considered no surer\nsign than that she is thinking about her sweetheart. Again, if a\nyoung woman's petticoats are longer than her dress, this is a proof\nthat her mother does not love her so much as her father, a notion\nwhich extends as far as Scotland. This piece of folk-lore may have\noriginated in the mother not attending so much to the child's dress\nas was her duty, whereas, however much the father may love his child,\nhe may at the same time be perfectly ignorant of the rights and\nwrongs of female attire: an excuse which does not hold good in the\ncase of the mother. Some of the descriptions of plants in use among\nthe rural peasantry refer to the petticoat. Thus, the poppy is said\nto have a red petticoat and a green gown; the daffodil, a yellow\npetticoat and green gown, and so on; these fancies being the subject\nof many of our old nursery rhymes, as, for instance:--\n\n    \"Daffadown-dilly is come up to town,\n    In a yellow petticoat and a green gown.\"\n\nPassing on in the next place to stockings, it is lucky, as with\nother articles of dress, to put one wrong-side out, but unlucky\nto turn it on discovering one's mistake. Some, too, consider it a\nmatter of importance as to which foot they put the stocking on first\nwhen dressing themselves in the morning--the luck of the day being\nsupposed in a great measure to depend on this circumstance--as to\nclothe the left foot before the right one is a sign of misfortune.\n\"Flinging the stocking\" was an old marriage custom, being really a\nkind of divination, which Misson, in his \"Travels through England,\"\nthus describes:--\"The young men, it seems, took the bride's\nstockings, and the girls those of the bridegroom, each of whom,\nsitting at the foot of the bed, threw the stocking over their heads,\nendeavouring to make it fall upon that of the bride or her spouse;\nif the bridegroom's stocking, thrown by the girls, fell upon the\nbridegroom's head, it was a sign that they themselves would soon be\nmarried; and similar luck was derived from the falling of the bride's\nstockings, thrown by the young men.\"\n\nThere is a superstitious notion in some places that when the bride\nretires to rest on her wedding-night, her bridesmaids should lay\nher stockings across, as this act is supposed to guarantee her\nfuture prosperity in the marriage state. Another use to which the\nstocking has been put is its being hung up to receive presents\nat Christmas-time, a custom which, as Mr. Henderson points out,\nthe Pilgrim Fathers carried to America, and bequeathed to their\ndescendants.\n\nIt is curious to find even the garter an object of superstition,\nbeing employed by young women in their love divinations on Midsummer\nEve, a period, it must be remembered, considered most propitious for\nsuch ceremonies. Their mode of procedure is this:--The maiden anxious\nto have a peep of her future husband must sleep in a county different\nfrom that in which she usually resides, and on going to bed must take\ncare to knit the left garter about the right stocking, repeating the\nfollowing incantation, and at every pause knitting a knot:--\n\n        \"This knot I knit\n    To know the thing I know not yet;\n        That I may see\n    The man that shall my husband be;\n    How he goes, and what he wears,\n    And what he does all days and years.\"\n\nOn retiring to rest the wished-for one will appear in her dreams,\nwearing the insignia of his trade or profession.\n\nAgain, as a popular object of superstition the shoe is unrivalled,\nand antiquaries are still undecided as to why our forefathers\ninvested this matter-of-fact article of dress with such mysterious\nqualities, selecting it as the symbol of good fortune, one of the\nwell-known uses in which it has been employed being the throwing of\nit for luck, constant allusions to which practice occur in our old\nwriters. Thus, Beaumont and Fletcher, in _The Honest Man's Fortune_,\nrefer to it:--\n\n    \"Captain, your shoes are old; pray put 'em off,\n    And let one fling 'em after us.\"\n\nAnd Ben Jonson, in his _Masque of the Gipsies_, represents one of the\ngipsies as saying:--\n\n    \"Hurle after an old shoe,\n    I'll be merry what e'er I doe.\"\n\nThis custom, which was once so prevalent, has not yet died out, for\nin Norfolk, whenever servants are going after new situations, a shoe\nis thrown after them, with the wish that they may succeed in what\nthey are going about. Some years ago, when vessels engaged in the\nGreenland whale fishery left Whitby, in Yorkshire, the wives and\nfriends of the sailors threw old shoes at the ships as they passed\nthe pier-head. Indeed, this practice is frequently observed in towns\non the sea-coast, and a correspondent of _Notes and Queries_ informs\nus that one day, when at Swansea, he received a shoe on his shoulder\nwhich was intended for a young sailor leaving his home to embark upon\na trading voyage. Tennyson has not omitted to speak of this piece of\nsuperstition:--\n\n    \"For this thou shalt from all things seek\n        Marrow of mirth and laughter;\n    And wheresoe'er thou move, good luck\n        Shall throw her old shoe after.\"\n\nAs an emblem of good luck, the shoe is thrown with much enthusiasm\nafter a bridal couple. Various explanations have been given of this\npopular custom. Some think that it was originally intended as a sham\nassault on the bridegroom for carrying off the bride; and hence\na survival of the old ceremony of opposition to the capture of a\nbride. Others again are of opinion that the shoe was in former times\na symbol of the exercise of dominion and authority over her by her\nfather or guardian; the receipt of the shoe by the bridegroom, even\nif accidental, being an omen that the authority was transferred to\nhim. Thus, in the Bible, the receiving of a shoe was an evidence\nand symbol of asserting or accepting dominion or ownership; whereas\nthe giving back of the shoe was the symbol of resigning it. Another\nreason for throwing the shoe is given in the following old rhyme:--\n\n        \"When Britons bold\n        Wedded of old,\n    Sandals were backward thrown,\n        The pair to tell\n        That, ill or well,\n    The act was all their own.\"\n\nThrowing the shoe after the wedded pair was, also, no doubt intended\nas an augury of long life to the bride. In Yorkshire the ceremony\nof shoe-throwing is termed \"thrashing,\" and the older the shoe the\ngreater the luck; and in some parts of Kent the mode of procedure is\nsomewhat peculiar. After the departure of the bride and bridegroom\nthe single ladies are drawn up in one row, and the bachelors in\nanother. When thus arranged, an old shoe is thrown as far as\npossible, which the fair sex run for: the winner being considered to\nhave the best chance of marriage. She then throws the shoe at the\ngentlemen, when the first who gets it is believed to have the same\nchance of matrimony. A somewhat similar custom prevails in Germany,\nwhere the bride's shoe is thrown among the guests at the wedding,\nthe person who succeeds in catching it being supposed to have every\nprospect of a speedy marriage.\n\nMany auguries are still gathered from the shoe. Thus young girls\non going to bed at night place their shoes at right angles to one\nanother, in the form of the letter T, repeating this rhyme:--\n\n    \"Hoping this night my true love to see,\n    I place my shoes in the form of a T.\"\n\nAs in the case of the stocking, great importance is attached by many\nsuperstitious persons as to which shoe they put on first, in allusion\nto which Butler, in his \"Hudibras,\" says:--\n\n    \"Augustus, having b' oversight\n    Put on his left shoe 'fore his right,\n    Had like to have been slain that day\n    By soldiers mutin'ing for pay.\"\n\nAn old writer speaking of Jewish customs tells us that \"some of them\nobserve, in dressing themselves in the morning, to put on the right\nstocking and right shoe first without tying it. Then afterwards to\nput on the left shoe, and so return to the right; that so they may\nbegin and end with the right one, which they account to be the most\nfortunate.\" A Suffolk doggrel respecting the \"wear of shoes\" teaches\nus the following:--\n\n    \"Tip at the toe: live to see woe;\n    Wear at the side: live to be a bride;\n    Wear at the ball: live to spend all;\n    Wear at the heel: live to save a deal.\"\n\nAmong some of the many charms in which the shoe has been found\nefficacious, may be mentioned one practised in the North of England,\nwhere the peasantry, to cure cramp, are in the habit of laying\ntheir shoes across to avert it. Mrs. Latham, in her \"West Sussex\nSuperstitions,\" published in the \"Folk-lore Record,\" tells us of\nan old woman who was at a complete loss to understand why her\n\"rheumatics was so uncommon bad, for she had put her shoes in the\nform of a cross every night by the side of her head, ever since she\nfelt the first twinge.\" In the same county, a cure for ague consists\nin wearing a leaf of tansy in the shoe.\n\nIt is curious that the shoe should have entered into the\nsuperstitions associated with death. According to an Aryan tradition,\nthe greater part of the way from the land of the living to that of\ndeath lay through morasses, and vast moors overgrown with furze and\nthorns. That the dead might not pass over them barefoot, a pair of\nshoes was laid with them in the grave. Hence a funeral is still\ncalled in the Henneberg district \"dead-shoe,\" and in Scandinavia\nthe shoe itself is known as \"hel-shoe.\" There are countless other\nitems of folk-lore connected with the shoe: thus in days gone by\nthe phrase, \"Over shoes, over boots\" was equivalent to the popular\nphrase, \"In for a penny, in for a pound,\" an allusion to which we\nfind in Taylor's \"Workes\" (1630):--\n\n            \"Where true courage roots,\n    The proverb says, once over shoes, o'er boots.\"\n\nAgain, \"to stand in another man's shoe\" is a popular expression\nfor occupying the place or laying claim to the honours of another.\n\"Looking for dead men's shoes\" is still an every-day phrase denoting\nthose who are continually expecting some advantage which will\naccrue to them on the death of another. The shoe-horn, too, from its\nconvenient use in drawing on a tight shoe, was formerly applied in a\njocular metaphor to subservient and tractable assistants. Thus, for\ninstance, Shakespeare in _Troilus and Cressida_ (Act v., sc. 1) makes\nThersites in his railing mood give this name to Menelaus, whom he\ncalls \"a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's\n(Agamemnon's) leg.\" It was also employed as a contemptuous phrase for\ndanglers after young women.\n\nA further article of dress that has had much honour conferred upon\nit is the glove, holding as it does a conspicuous place in many of\nour old customs and ceremonies. Thus in days gone by it was given,\nby way of delivery or investiture, in sales or conveyances of lands\nand goods. It was also employed as the token of a challenge to\nfight, a symbolical staking, perhaps of the prowess of the hand to\nwhich the glove belonged. Hence to hang up a glove in church was a\npublic challenge, very much as a notice affixed to a church-door is\na public notice. _Apropos_ of this custom, a story is given in the\nlife of the Rev. Bernard Gilpin, of the diocese of Durham, who died\nin 1583. It appears that he observed a glove hanging high up in his\nchurch, and ascertaining that it was designed as a challenge to any\none who should dare to displace it, he desired his sexton to do so.\n\"Not I, sir, I dare do no such thing,\" he replied. Whereupon the\nparson called for a long staff, and taking it down himself, put it in\nhis pocket. Preaching afterwards on the subject, he denounced this\nunseemly practice, saying, \"Behold, I have taken it down myself,\" and\nproducing the glove, he exhibited it to the whole congregation as a\nspectacle of honour. This custom, we are told, does not appear to\nhave been much older in this country than the thirteenth century, for\nMatthew Paris, in writing of the year 1245, speaks of it expressly as\nFrench. Noblemen wore their ladies' gloves in front of their hats, a\npractice mentioned by Drayton as having been in vogue at the battle\nof Agincourt:--\n\n    \"The noble youth, the common rank above,\n      On their courveting coursers mounted fair,\n    One wore his mistress' garter, one her glove,\n    And he her colours whom he most did love;\n      There was not one but did some favour wear;\n    And each one took it on his happy speed,\n    To make it famous by some knightly deed.\"\n\nThe gift of a pair of gloves was at one time the ordinary perquisite\nof those who performed some small service; and in process of time,\nto make the reward of greater value, the glove was \"lined\" with\nmoney; hence the term \"glove-money.\" Relics of the old custom still\nsurvive in the presentation of gloves to those who attend weddings\nand funerals. It is difficult, however, to discover the connection\nbetween gloves and a stolen kiss. Our readers, for example, may\nrecollect how, in Sir Walter Scott's \"Fair Maid of Perth,\" Catharine\nsteals from her chamber on St. Valentine's morn, and catching Henry\nSmith asleep, gives him a kiss; then we have the following:--\"Come\ninto the booth with me, my son, and I will furnish thee with a\nfitting theme. Thou knowest the maiden who ventures to kiss a\nsleeping man, wins of him a pair of gloves.\" Gloves are still given\nto a judge at a maiden assize, a custom which, it has been suggested,\noriginated in a Saxon law, which forbade the judges to wear gloves\nwhile sitting on the Bench. Hence, to give a pair of gloves to a\njudge was tantamount to saying that he need not trouble to come to\nthe Bench, but might wear gloves. Again, in bygone times gloves\nwere worn as a mark of distinction by sovereigns, ecclesiastical\ndignitaries, and others; their workmanship being excessively costly,\nrichly embroidered as they were and decorated with jewels. \"The\nassociation of gloves with ecclesiastical dignity survived,\" says\nMr. Leadam in the _Antiquary_, \"the Reformation in England; for\nalthough they ceased to be worn in the services of the Church, yet\nas late as the reign of Charles II. bishops upon their consecration\nwere accustomed to present gloves to the archbishop, and to all who\ncame to their consecration banquet. The lavender gloves with golden\nfringes which do often adorn their portraits, may still remind our\nmodern prelates of the ancient glories of their predecessors.\" It\nwas also customary to hang a pair of white gloves on the pews of\nunmarried villagers who had died in the flower of their youth, and at\nseveral towns in England it has been customary from time immemorial\nto announce a fair by hoisting a huge glove upon a pole--a practice\nwhich exists at Macclesfield, Portsmouth, Southampton, and Chester;\nthe glove being taken down at the conclusion of the fair. Hone,\nin his description of Exeter Lammas Fair, says:--\"The charter for\nthis fair is perpetuated by a glove of immense size, stuffed and\ncarried through the city on a very long pole, decorated with ribbons,\nflowers, &c., and attended with music, parish beadles, and the\nnobility. It is afterwards placed on the top of the Guildhall, and\nthen the fair commences; on the taking down of the glove the fair\nterminates.\" Mr. Leadam also quotes a passage from the \"Speculum\nSaxonicum\" which throws light on the origin of this custom:--\"No one\nis allowed to set up a market or a mint, without the consent of the\nordinary or judge of that place; the king ought also to send a glove\nas a sign of his consent to the same.\" The glove, therefore, was\nthe king's glove, the earliest form of royal charter, the original\nsign-manual. Among other items of folk-lore connected with this\nuseful article of dress, we may mention that the term \"right as my\nglove\" is a phrase, according to Sir Walter Scott, derived from the\npractice of pledging the glove as the sign of irrefragable faith.\nGloves, too, were in olden times fashionable new year's gifts, having\nbeen far more expensive than now-a-days. When Sir Thomas More was\nLord Chancellor, he happened to determine a case in favour of a lady\nnamed Croaker, who, as a mark of her gratitude, sent him a new year's\ngift in the shape of a pair of gloves with forty angels in them. But\nSir Thomas returned the money with the following letter:--\"Mistress,\nsince it were against good manners to refuse your new year's gift,\nI am content to take your gloves, but as for the lining I utterly\nrefuse it.\" In the time of Queen Elizabeth, the rural bridegroom wore\ngloves in his hat as a sign of good husbandry; and on the \"Border\"\nto bite the glove was considered a pledge of deadly vengeance,\nin allusion to which Sir Walter Scott, in his \"Lay of the Last\nMinstrel,\" says:--\n\n    \"Stern Rutherford right little said,\n    But bit his glove and shook his head.\"\n\nThe ring, apart from its eventful history, has from the most remote\nperiod been surrounded, both in this and other countries, not only\nwith a most extensive legendary lore, but with a vast array of\nsuperstitions, a detailed account of which would be impossible in a\nsmall volume like the present one; so we must confine ourselves to\nsome of the most popular.\n\nIn the first place, then, certain mysterious virtues have been\nsupposed to reside in rings, not so much on account of their shape as\nfrom the materials of which they have been composed. Thus, they have\nbeen much worn as talismans or charms, being thought to be infallible\npreservatives against unseen dangers of every kind. Referring to some\nof these, we find, for instance, that the turquoise ring was believed\nto possess special properties, a superstition to which Dr. Donne\nalludes:--\n\n    \"A compassionate turquoise, that doth tell,\n    By looking pale, the wearer is not well.\"\n\nFenton, too, in his \"Secret Wonders of Nature,\" describes the\nstone:--\"The turkeys doth move when there is any peril prepared to\nhim that weareth it.\" The turquoise ring of Shylock, which, we are\ntold in the _Merchant of Venice_ (Act iii., sc. 1), he would not part\nwith for a \"wilderness of monkeys,\" was, no doubt, valued for its\nsecret virtues.\n\nThe carbuncle, again, amongst other properties, was said to give out\na natural light, to which it has been supposed Shakespeare alludes in\n_Titus Andronicus_ (Act ii., sc. 3), where, speaking of the ring on\nthe finger of Bassianus, he says:--\n\n    \"Upon his bloody finger he doth wear\n    A precious ring, that lightens all the hole,\n    Which, like a taper in some monument,\n    Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,\n    And shows the ragged entrails of the pit.\"\n\nA piece of popular superstition makes it unlucky to wear an opal\nring, although this lovely stone has always been an object of\npeculiar admiration from the beautiful variety of colours which it\ndisplays, and in the Middle Ages was even thought to possess the\nunited virtues of all the gems with whose distinctive colours it was\nemblazoned. The diamond was believed to counteract poison, a notion\nwhich prevailed to a comparatively late period; though, according to\nanother belief, it was considered the most dangerous of poisons, and\nas such we find it enumerated among the poisons administered to Sir\nThomas Overbury, when a prisoner in the Tower. An emerald ring was\nthought to insure purity of thought; and a toadstone ring was worn\nas an amulet to preserve new-born children and their mothers from\nfairies.\n\nAmong the omens associated with rings, we may briefly note that to\nlose a ring which has been given as a pledge of affection is unlucky;\nas also is the breaking of a ring on the finger; while further\nsuperstitions relating to the wedding-ring have been noticed at\nlength in our chapter on marriage. In days gone by, too, \"medicated\nrings\" were held in great repute, and were much used for the cure of\ndiseases, instances of which we find among the remedies still in use\nfor cramp, epilepsy, and fits. Silver seems to have been considered\nhighly efficacious; and rings made of lead, mixed with quicksilver,\nwere worn as charms against headaches and other complaints.\nDactylomancy, or divination by rings, is not quite forgotten among\neager aspirants after matrimony, one mode being to suspend a ring by\na thread or hair within a glass tumbler, notice being taken as to how\nmany times it strikes the sides of the glass without being touched.\nOnce more, there is an old piece of folk-lore on the colours of\nstones in \"keepsake rings\":--\n\n    \"Oh, green is forsaken,\n    And yellow is forsworn,\n    But blue is the prettiest colour that's worn.\"\n\nPassing from the ring to another article of dress--perhaps the most\ninsignificant--namely, the pin, we nevertheless find it invested with\nall kinds of curious superstitions. Thus, it is said that on seeing\na pin, one should always pick it up for the sake of good luck, as\nthose who omit to do so run into imminent danger of being overtaken\nby misfortune, a notion embodied in the following rhyme:--\n\n    \"See a pin and pick it up,\n    All the day you'll have good luck;\n    See a pin and let it lie,\n    All the day you'll have to cry.\"\n\nWhy, however, North-country people are so persistent in their refusal\nto give one another a pin, it is not easy to discover. When asked for\na pin, they invariably reply, \"You may take one; but, mind, I do not\ngive it.\" One of the most popular species of enchantment to which\npins have been applied is that sometimes employed in counteracting\nthe evil effects of witchcraft. One mode is by \"pin-sticking,\" a\ncase of which recently occurred in the parish of Honiton Clyst,\nin Devonshire. A landlord having lost one of his tenants, certain\nrepairs and improvements were found necessary to prepare for the\nnext. In carrying out the work a chimney had to be explored, when,\nin the course of the operation, there was found carefully secreted a\npig's heart stuck all over with thin prickles, evidently a substitute\nfor pins. This is supposed to have been done by the direction of some\n\"wise\" or cunning person, as a means of taking revenge on the witch\nto whose incantations the party considered some mischief due, in the\nbelief that the heart of the ill-wisher would be pierced in like\nmanner, until it eventually became as pulseless as that of the pig.\n\nIt appears, too, that pins were largely used in a particular species\nof sorcery. Whenever, for instance, some malevolent individual wished\nto carry out her ill-natured designs, she made a clay image of the\nperson she intended to harm, baptised the said image with the name\nof the party whom it was meant to represent, and stuck it full of\npins or burnt it. Where the pins were placed the person whom it\nrepresented was afflicted with pain, and as the figure wasted, so he\nwas said to waste away. Shakespeare alludes to this superstition, and\nin _Richard III._ (Act iii., sc. 4) makes the Duke of Gloucester say\nto Hastings:--\n\n    \"Then be your eyes the witness of this ill,\n    See how I am bewitch'd; behold, mine arm\n    Is, like a blasted sapling, withered up!\n    And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch\n    Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore,\n    That by their witchcraft thus have marked me.\"\n\nPins, too, have been in extensive demand for divination, and here and\nthere throughout the country we find \"wishing wells,\" into which if\nthe passers-by only drop a crooked pin and breathe their wish, it is\nsaid they may rest assured of its fulfilment at some future date.\n\nSo much, then, for our illustrations of the folk-lore of dress, a\nsubject which, interesting though it is, we have now discussed at\nsufficient length.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nTABLE SUPERSTITIONS.\n\n    Thirteen at Table--Salt-spilling--The Knife--Bread, and other\n    Articles of Food--Wishing Bones--Tea-leaves--Singing before\n    Breakfast--Shaking Hands across the Table.\n\n\nIt is frequently found that even strong-minded persons are not exempt\nfrom the prejudice against sitting down to dinner when there are only\nthirteen present. Many amusing anecdotes are recorded of the devices\nresorted to for avoiding the consequences supposed to be incurred by\nthe neglect of this superstition--the notion being that one of the\nthirteen, generally the youngest, will die within the next twelve\nmonths. To avoid, therefore, any such contingency, many persons,\nshould they be disappointed in one of their guests, have the empty\nplace filled by a child, and should one not always be forthcoming, no\nslight inconvenience is occasionally produced. Not very long ago a\ncase was recorded in which a lady, not being able at the last moment\nto make up the number fourteen, had her favourite cat seated at the\ntable, hoping thereby to break the fatal spell attaching to the\nunlucky number thirteen.\n\nThe origin popularly assigned to this widespread superstition is\nthe fact that thirteen was the number at the Last Supper, Judas\nbeing the thirteenth. A correspondent of the _Gentleman's Magazine_,\nhowever, writing at the close of the last century, says that it is\n\"founded on the calculations adhered to by the insurance offices,\nwhich presume that out of thirteen persons, taken indiscriminately,\none will die within a year.\" But this is not the probable origin,\nthat which connects it with the Last Supper being no doubt the\ncorrect one. Some, says Lord Lyttelton, in _Notes and Queries_,\nhave carried the superstition \"to the extent of disliking the\nnumber thirteen at all times; but the commoner form limits it to\nFriday--not that there is any ground for fact in this, for the Last\nSupper was on the fifth, not the sixth day of the week. Sailors are\nheld somewhat superstitious, and I knew an eminent naval officer who\nactually would walk out of the room when the conjunction happened\non a Friday, after the death of the wife and eldest daughter, both\nof which events were preceded by the said conjunction.\" Among other\ninstances of this piece of superstition, we may quote the following,\nrelated by Addison in the _Spectator_:--\"I remember,\" he says, \"I\nwas one in a mixed assembly that was full of wine and mirth, when on\na sudden an old woman unluckily observed that there were thirteen\nof us in company. This remark struck a panic terror into several\nwho were present, insomuch that one or two of the ladies were going\nto leave the room; but a friend of mine, taking notice that one of\nour female companions was likely to become a mother, affirmed there\nwere fourteen in the room, and that instead of portending that one\nin the company should die, it plainly foretold that one of them\nshould be born. Had not my friend found this expedient to break the\nomen, I question not but half the women in the company should have\nfallen sick that very night.\" Again, we may give another anecdote\nrecorded by Rachel, the celebrated _trag\u00e9dienne_. On her return from\nEgypt, in the spring of 1857, she installed herself in a villa in\nthe neighbourhood of Montpellier. There she received a visit from\nthe poet Ponsard and Ars\u00e9ne Houssaye, the latter of whom was making\na tour as inspector of the Departmental Museums. \"Do you recollect\nthe dinner we had at the house of Victor Hugo, at the close of the\nrepetition of _L'Angelo_?\" she said to the former. \"You remember\nthere were _thirteen_ of us. There was Hugo and his wife, you and\nyour wife, Rebecca and I, Girardin and his wife, and some others.\nWell! where to-day are the thirteen? Victor Hugo and his wife are\nin Jersey; your wife is dead; Madame de Girardin is dead; my poor\nRebecca is dead; Gerard de Nerval, Oradie, Alfred de Musset are\ndead. I--say no more. There remain but Girardin and you. Adieu! my\nfriends. Never laugh at thirteen at a table!\" Anecdotes, indeed,\nrelating to this superstition are without number, and form many an\namusing episode in the lives of noted characters. It may be mentioned\nhere that the number thirteen is considered ominous in other\nways. Fuller, by way of example, tells us how a covetous courtier\ncomplained to King Edward VI. that Christ College, Cambridge, was a\nsuperstitious foundation, consisting of a master and twelve fellows,\nin imitation of Christ and His twelve Apostles. He, therefore,\nadvised the king to take away one or two fellowships, so as to\ndissolve that unlucky number. \"Oh, no,\" replied the king, \"I have a\nbetter way than that to mar their conceit; I will add a thirteenth\nfellowship to them,\" which he accordingly did.\n\nAnother equally popular superstition is the ill-luck supposed\nto attach to salt-spilling: one notion being that to upset the\nsalt-cellar while in the act of handing it to any one is a sign of an\nimpending quarrel between the parties. It is also said to indicate\nsorrow or trouble to the person spilling it, and to counteract the\nevil consequences of this unlucky act one should fling some salt over\nthe shoulder. Gay speaks of this popular fancy in the fable of the\n\"Farmer's Wife and the Raven\":--\n\n    \"The salt was spilt, to me it fell,\n    Then to contribute to my loss,\n    My knife and fork were laid across.\"\n\nIndeed constant allusions are found to this widespread superstition\nboth in our old and modern writers. Gayton, describing two friends,\nsays:--\n\n    \"I have two friends of either sex, which do\n    Eat little salt, or none, yet are friends too,\n    Of both which persons I can truly tell,\n    They are of patience most invincible\n    Whom out of temper no mischance at all\n    Can put--no, if towards them the salt should fall.\"\n\nThis piece of folk-lore dates back up to the time of the Romans, and\nat the present day is not limited to our own country. It has been\nsuggested that it may have originated from the circumstance that\nsalt was formerly used in sacrifices, and that to spill it when once\nplaced on the head of the victim was regarded as a bad omen. Bailey,\nhowever, assigns a very different reason, telling us that salt was\nconsidered by the ancients incorruptible, and on this account was\nmade the symbol of friendship. If it, therefore, was spilt, the\npersons between whom it happened thought their friendship would not\nbe of long duration.\n\nSome people dislike even so much as to put salt on another person's\nplate, considering this act equivalent to wishing one's neighbour\nmisfortune. Hence there is a well-known couplet:--\n\n    \"Help me to salt,\n    Help me to sorrow.\"\n\nA correspondent of _Notes and Queries_ relates how one day he offered\nto help an old Highland lady at dinner to some salt from the cellar,\nwhich stood much nearer to him than to her; when she gravely put\nback his hand, and drew away her plate, saying at the same time, with\na kind of shudder, between her teeth, \"Help me to salt, help me to\nsorrow.\" The ill-luck may be averted by a second help. Salt has also\nbeen considered a powerful safeguard against evil spirits; and in\nScotland it was once customary in brewing to throw a handful of salt\non the top of the mash to ward off witches. Again, as an interesting\nillustration of the change which has passed over our domestic\nmanners, we may quote the phrase \"to sit above the salt,\" that is,\nin a place of honour, whereby a marked and invidious distinction\nwas formerly maintained among those at the same table. A large\nsalt-cellar was usually placed about the middle of a long table,\nthe places above which were assigned to the guests of distinction,\nthose below to inferiors and poor relations. It argues little for\nthe delicacy of our ancestors that they should have permitted such\nill-natured distinctions at their board; often, as it has been said,\nplacing their guests \"below the salt\" for no better purpose than that\nof mortifying them. Hence Ben Jonson, speaking of the characteristics\nof an insolent coxcomb, says:--\"His fashion is not to take knowledge\nof him that is beneath him in clothes. He never drinks below the\nsalt.\"\n\nAmong the many other odd items of folk-lore associated with the\ntable, we may mention in the next place those relating to the knife.\nThus, to let a knife drop is a sign that a visitor is coming to the\nhouse; and to lay the knife and fork crosswise on one's plate is an\nomen that crosses and troubles will soon occur. Equally unlucky,\ntoo, is it to give any kind of knife away, for, as Gay in his\n\"Shepherd's Week\" says:--\n\n    \"But woe is me! such presents luckless prove,\n    For knives, they tell me, always sever love.\"\n\nIndeed, this superstition is not confined to a knife, but extends\nto any sharp or cutting instrument, such as a pair of scissors, a\nrazor, &c. To avoid the danger of such a misfortune, some trifling\nrecompense must be made in return. This superstition was confuted\nby a versifier of the last century--the Rev. Samuel Bishop--who\npresented a knife to his wife on her fifteenth wedding-day, with\na copy of some very clever verses of which the following are a\nspecimen:--\n\n    \"A knife, dear girl, cuts love, they say,\n    Mere modish love perhaps it may;\n    For any tool of any kind\n    Can separate what was never joined;\n    The knife that cuts our love in two\n    Will have much tougher work to do;\n    Must cut your softness, worth, and spirit,\n    Down to the vulgar size of merit,\" &c.\n\nSome consider it unlucky to find a knife, from a notion that it will\nbring ill-luck to them; while others again often place a knife near\na sleeping child as a charm to preserve it from danger, a belief to\nwhich Herrick thus refers:--\n\n    \"Let the superstitious wife\n    Near the child's heart lay a knife;\n    Point be up, and haft be down;\n    While she gossips in the town.\n    This 'mongst other mystic charms\n    Keeps the sleeping child from harms.\"\n\nEven the loaf of bread, too, without which the most frugal board\nwould be incomplete, has not escaped without its quota of folk-lore.\nThus, many a housewife still marks the sign of the cross upon her\nloaf before placing it in the oven, just as the Durham butcher does\nto the shoulder of a sheep or lamb after taking off the skin--the\nnotion probably being to protect it against the injurious influence\nof witchcraft. In many parts of Scotland peasants were formerly in\nthe habit of making a cross on their tools, considering that by so\ndoing they would be rendered safe against the mischievous pranks of\nthe fairy folks as they went on their midnight errands. Again, if\na loaf accidentally parts in the hand while an unmarried lady is\ncutting it, this either prognosticates that she will not be married\nduring the next twelve months, or, what is still worse, that there\nwill be a dissension of some kind in the family. Some, too, have a\nsuperstitious objection to turning a loaf upside-down after cutting\nit. Herrick refers to the custom of carrying a crust of bread in the\npocket for luck's sake--a practice which is not quite obsolete:--\n\n    \"If ye fear to be affrighted\n    When ye are, by chance, benighted;\n    In your pocket for a trust\n    Carry nothing but a crust,\n    For that holy piece of bread\n    Charms the danger and the dread.\"\n\nWhile speaking of bread it may not be inappropriate to refer to a\nfew other articles of fare around which superstition has cast its\nmantle. Thus, eggs have an extensive folk-lore both in this and other\ncountries. Many persons, for instance, after eating an egg take\nspecial care to crush the shell; the omission of this ceremony, as\nthey fancy, being attended with ill-luck. Sir Thomas Browne informs\nus that the real reason is to prevent witchcraft: \"lest witches\nshould draw or prick their names therein, and veneficiously mischief\ntheir person, they broke the shell.\" It is also considered a bad\nomen to bring eggs into the house after dark, and many persons avoid\nburning egg-shells lest the hens should cease to lay. According to a\nsuperstition current in the West of England, one should always make\na hole through an egg-shell before throwing it away, as, unless this\nis done, there is a danger of witches using them to put to sea for\nthe purpose of wrecking ships. Beaumont and Fletcher in their \"Women\nPleased\" allude to this notion:--\n\n    \"The devil should think of purchasing that egg-shell\n    To victual out a witch for the Burmoothies.\"\n\nJust as it is considered, too, unlucky to bring eggs into the house\nafter dark, so the same prejudice exists with regard to taking them\nout. One day, we are told in the _Stamford Mercury_ (Oct. 29, 1852),\na person in want of some eggs called at a farmhouse and inquired\nof the good woman whether she had any eggs to sell, to which she\nreplied that she had a few scores to dispose of. \"Then I'll take them\nhome with me in the cart,\" was his answer, to which she somewhat\nindignantly replied, \"That you will not; don't you know the sun has\ngone down? You are welcome to the eggs at a proper hour of the day,\nbut I would not let them go out of the house after the sun is set on\nany consideration whatever.\" A Norfolk superstition warns persons\nagainst eating the marrow of pork lest they should go mad; and, in\nthe North of England, we are told that should the meat for dinner\nshrink in the pot, it presages a downfall in life. Should it swell,\non the contrary, to a large size, it denotes that the head of the\nfamily will be prosperous in his undertakings. These odd fancies\nvary in different localities, and in out-of-the-way districts where\nthe railway has not yet penetrated, they still retain their hold on\nthe primitive and uncultivated minds of our agricultural peasantry.\nAt the same time, however, occasional survivals of many of these\nold worn-out superstitions crop up in unexpected quarters, showing\nthey are not completely dead. Thus, our children still practise\ntheir divination by means of the \"wishing bone\" of a fowl, and\nare, moreover, ever on the alert to discover, what they consider,\ninfallible omens from any article of food which nursery tradition has\nstamped as possessing such remarkable qualities. As we have already\npointed out in another chapter, tea-leaves often afford to both old\nand young a constant source of amusement; and we may, now and then,\nfind some elderly damsel, who still aspires to enter one day on the\nmarriage state, taking care to put the milk into her tea before the\nsugar lest she should lose her chance of securing a sweetheart. Mrs.\nLatham, too, tells us how matrimonial fortunes are often told by\nseers at home from the grounds or sediment remaining at the bottom of\na tea-cup; and where to unenlightened eyes nothing is apparent but\na little black dust floating in a slop, those who have the wit to\ndo so may discern a hidden meaning. Again, among the host of small\nsuperstitions connected with our daily meals, one at the very outset\nrelates to breakfast; there being a widespread belief that if a\nperson sings before breakfast, he will cry before supper. This notion\nprobably has some reference to another popular one, namely, that high\nspirits forebode evil, proving the forerunner of adversity. Many\nanecdotes illustrative of this theory have been recorded at various\ntimes. In the last act of _Romeo and Juliet_, Romeo is introduced as\nsaying:--\n\n    \"If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,\n    My dreams presage some joyful news at hand;\n    My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne;\n    And all this day an unaccustomed spirit\n    Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.\"\n\nIn the evidence given at the inquest upon the bodies of four persons\nkilled by an explosion at a firework manufactory in Bermondsey,\nOctober 12th, 1849, one of the witnesses stated:--\"On Friday they\nwere all very merry, and Mrs. B. said she feared something would\nhappen before they went to bed, because they were so happy.\"\n\nIf, in a social gathering of any kind, an unmarried person is\ninadvertently placed between a man and his wife, it is an indication\nthat the individual so seated will be married within the course\nof a year. Many consider it unlucky to shake hands across the\ntable; and there is also an old superstition mentioned by Grose,\nthat, in eating, to miss the mouth and let the food fall is a bad\nomen, betokening approaching sickness. Once more, if a person in\nrising from table overturns his chair, this is not a very fortunate\noccurrence, as it is said to show that he has been speaking untruths.\nWithout further extending our list of the superstitious beliefs and\npractices that have clustered round the table--to which many of our\nreaders will doubtless be able to make their own additions--we may\nbriefly sum up this branch of the subject by saying:--\n\n                      \"'Tis a history\n    Handed from ages down; a nurse's tale,\n    Which children open-eyed and mouth'd devour,\n    And thus, as garrulous ignorance relates,\n    We learn it and believe.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nFURNITURE OMENS.\n\n    Folk-lore of the Looking-glass--Luck of\n    Edenhall--Clock-falling--Chairs--Beds--The Bellows.\n\n\nThe desire to gather omens from the various surrounding objects of\nevery-day life has naturally included articles of furniture; and\nhence we find signs and portents attached to certain of these which\nare implicitly credited by many, from the highest to the lowest, who,\nnotwithstanding, would consider themselves deeply insulted if the\nidea of their being superstitious were only so much as hinted at by\nsome sceptical friend. Among the most common of these odd fancies\nare those relating to the looking-glass. As a piece of furniture\nthis is most necessary, and its very importance is, perhaps, the\nchief reason why superstition has invested it with those mysterious\nqualities which certainly do not belong in the same ratio to chairs\nand tables. A chair, however beautiful and costly in its manufacture,\nmay nevertheless be cruelly broken with perfect impunity; whereas, if\nsome wretched, dilapidated looking-glass is accidentally cracked, the\ninmates of the house are thoroughly discomposed, from a conviction\nthat such an event is sure to be followed by misfortune of some kind\nor other. In Cornwall, the supposed penalty for such an offence\nis seven years of sorrow; and a Yorkshire proverb informs us that\nthis unfortunate occurrence entails \"seven years' trouble, but no\nwant.\" It has also been said to foretell the speedy decease of the\nmaster of the house; and in Scotland it is regarded as an infallible\nsign that some member of the family will shortly die. It has been\nsuggested that this popular superstition dates very many years back,\nand probably originated in the terror inspired by the destruction of\nthe reflected human image--an interesting illustration of how the\nformation of certain ideas is often determined by mere analogy. A\nsimilar style of thinking also underlies the medi\u00e6val necromancer's\npractice of making a waxen image of his enemy, and shooting at it\nwith arrows in order to bring about his death.\n\nThe folk-lore, however, of the looking-glass does not end here;\nfor many consider it the height of ill-luck to see the new moon\nreflected in a looking-glass or through a window-pane; and some\nmothers studiously prevent their youngest child looking in one until\na year old. It is also associated with marriage and death. Thus, in\nthe South of England it is regarded as a bad omen for a bride on\nher wedding morning to take a last peep in the glass when she is\ncompletely dressed in her bridal attire, before starting for the\nchurch. Hence very great care is generally taken to put on a glove\nor some slight article of adornment after the final lingering and\nreluctant look has been taken in the mirror. The idea is that any\nyoung lady who is too fond of the looking-glass will be unfortunate\nwhen married. This is by no means the only occasion on which\nsuperstitious fancy interferes with the grown-up maiden's peeps into\nthe looking-glass. Thus, Swedish young ladies are afraid of looking\nin the glass after dark, or by candle-light, lest by so doing they\nshould forfeit the goodwill of the other sex.\n\nThe practice of covering the looking-glass, or removing it from\nthe chamber of death, still prevails in some parts of England--the\nnotion being that \"all vanity, all care for earthly beauty, are\nover with the deceased.\" It has also been suggested that, as the\ninvisible world trenches closely upon the visible one in the chamber\nof death, a superstitious dread is felt of some spiritual being\nimaging himself forth in the blank surface of the mirror. Mr. Baring\nGould considers that the true reason for shrouding the looking-glass\nbefore a funeral was that given him in Warwickshire, where there is a\npopular notion that if a person looks into a mirror in the chamber of\ndeath he will see the corpse looking over his shoulder. Again, Brand\ninforms us that looking-glasses were generally used by magicians \"in\ntheir superstitious and diabolical operations.\" He quotes an old\nauthority, who says:--\"Some magicians, being curious to find out by\nthe help of a looking-glass, or a glass full of water, a thing that\nlies hidden, make choice of young maids to discern therein those\nimages or sights which a person defiled cannot see.\" Sometimes, too,\nour ancestors dipped a looking-glass into the water when they were\nanxious to ascertain what would become of a sick person. Accordingly\nas he looked well or ill in the glass, when covered with the drops\nof water, so they foretold whether he would recover or not. Mirrors\nwere also regarded by our forefathers as the most effective agencies\nin divining secrets and bringing to light hidden mysteries. Thus,\nthere is a tradition that the Gunpowder Plot was discovered by Dr.\nJohn Dee with his magic mirror. We find in a prayer-book, printed by\nBaskett in 1737, an engraving which depicts the following scene:--In\nthe centre is a circular looking-glass, in which is the reflection\nof the Houses of Parliament by night, and a person entering carrying\na dark lantern. On the left side there are two men in the costume\nof James's time looking into the mirror--one evidently the king,\nthe other probably Sir Kenelm Digby. On the right side, at the top,\nis the eye of Providence darting a ray on to the mirror; and below\nare some legs and hoofs, as if evil spirits were flying out of the\npicture. This plate, says a correspondent of _Notes and Queries_,\n\"would seem to represent the method by which, under Providence (as\nis evidenced by the eye), the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot was at\nthat time seriously believed to have been effected. The tradition,\nmoreover, must have been generally believed, or it never could have\nfound its way into a prayer-book printed by the king's printer.\" It\nmay be noted, however, that as the fame of Dee's magic mirror was\nat its zenith about the time of the Gunpowder Plot, this may have\nled to the mirror being adopted as a popular emblem of discovery,\nor \"throwing light\" upon a subject. Hence it has been reasonably\nsuggested that the mirror in the print may simply be a piece of\nartistic design, rather than evidence of its actual employment in the\ndiscovery.\n\nIn days gone by, too, it appears to have been customary for both\nsexes to wear small looking-glasses--a fantastic fashion much\nridiculed by Ben Jonson and others of his time. Men even wore them\nin their hats--an allusion to which custom we find in Ben Jonson's\n_Cynthia's Revels_ (Act ii., sc. 1): \"Where is your page? Call for\nyour casting-bottle, and place your mirror in your hat as I told\nyou.\" We may infer that this was the very height of affectation by\nthe manner in which the remark is introduced. While men of fashion\nwore mirrors as brooches or ornaments in their hats, ladies carried\nthem at their girdles or on their breasts. Thus Lovelace makes a lady\nsay:--\n\n    \"My lively shade thou ever shalt retaine\n    In thy inclosed feather-framed glasse.\"\n\nIt was a popular superstition in former years that fine glass, such\nas that of Venice, would break if poison were put into it. To this\ncurious notion Massinger thus gracefully alludes:--\n\n    \"Here crystal glasses . . . .\n    . . . . . . . . . . This pure metal\n    So innocent is, and faithful to the mistress,\n    Or master, that possesses it, that rather\n    Than hold one drop that's venomous, of itself\n    It flies in pieces, and deludes the traitor.\"\n\nThis is among the errors noticed by Sir Thomas Browne, who says, \"And\nalthough it be said that poison will break a Venice glass, yet have\nwe not met with any of that nature. Were there a truth herein, it\nwere the best preservative for princes and persons exalted to such\nfears, and surely far better than divers now in use.\" It may not be\ninappropriate here to refer to the well-known tradition connected\nwith the \"Luck of Edenhall.\" From time immemorial there has been a\ncurrent belief that any one who had the courage to rush upon a fairy\nfestival and snatch from the merry throng their drinking-glass, would\nfind it prove to him a constant source of good fortune, supposing he\ncould carry it across a running stream. A glass has been carefully\npreserved at Edenhall, Cumberland, which was in all probability a\nsacred chalice; but the legend is that the butler, one day going\nto draw water, surprised a company of fairies who were amusing\nthemselves on the grass near the well. He seized the glass that was\nstanding upon its margin, which the fairies tried to recover, but,\nafter an ineffectual struggle, they vanished, crying:--\n\n    \"If that glass do break or fall,\n    Farewell the luck of Edenhall.\"\n\nThe good fortune, however, of this ancient house was never so much\nendangered as by the Duke of Wharton, who, on one occasion having\ndrunk the contents of this magic glass, inadvertently dropped it,\nand here most assuredly would for ever have terminated the luck of\nEdenhall, if the butler, who stood at his elbow to receive the empty\nglass, had not happily caught it in his napkin.\n\nReferring, however, more particularly to our subject, we find several\nitems of folk-lore associated with the clock. Thus, in the North\nof England, there is a superstition called \"Clock-falling,\" the\nidea being that if a woman enters a house after her confinement,\nand before being churched, the house-clock will immediately fall\non its face. So strong was this belief in years past that a woman\nwould never think of transgressing this rule under any circumstances\nwhatever. In some places the house-clock is stopped on the occasion\nof a death, no doubt to remind the survivors that with the deceased\none time is over, and that henceforth the days and hours are no\nlonger of any account to him. A correspondent of _Notes and Queries_\ninforms us that he knew \"an intelligent, well-informed gentleman in\nScotland who, among his last injunctions on his death-bed, ordered\nthat as soon as he expired the house-clock was to be stopped, a\ncommand which was strictly obeyed.\" Aubrey also tells us that\nformerly it was customary for people of a serious turn of mind to\nsay, every time they heard the clock strike, \"Lord, grant my last\nhour may be my best hour.\"\n\nChairs, again, have their superstitions. It is regarded as a bad\nomen, for instance, if, when a person leaves a house, he replaces the\nchair on which he has been sitting against the wall, the probability\nbeing that he will never visit the house again. The chair on which a\nwoman sits after her confinement to receive the congratulations of\nher friends is popularly termed \"a groaning chair,\" an allusion to\nwhich we find in \"Poor Robin's Almanack\":--\n\n    \"For a nurse, the child to dandle,\n    Sugar, soap, spiced pots, and candle,\n    A groaning chair, and eke a cradle.\"\n\nAnother article of furniture not without its folk-lore is the bed.\nThus some superstitious persons always have their bedsteads placed\nparallel to the planks of the floor, considering it unlucky to sleep\nacross the boards. Others again pay particular attention to the point\nof the compass towards which the head should be when in bed, a belief\nwe find existing even among the Hindoos, who believe that to sleep\nwith the head to the north will cause one's days to be shortened.\nTo lie in the direction of the south they say is productive of\nlongevity, whereas the east and west, it is asserted, are calculated\nto bring riches and change of scene respectively. Various theories in\nthis country have been, at different times, started as to the proper\nposition of the bedstead during the hours of sleep, which find ready\nacceptance among those who are ever ready to grasp any new idea,\nhowever fanciful it may be. A correspondent of _The Builder_, writing\non the subject, says:--\"So far as my own observations have gone, I\nknow that my sleep is always more sound when my head is placed to the\nnorth. There are persons whom I know, the head of whose bed is to the\nnorth, and who, to awake early, will reverse their usual position\nin the bed, but without knowing the reason why, beyond 'that they\ncould always wake earlier,' the sleep being more broken.\" An eminent\nphysician in Scotland states that, when he failed by every other\nprescription to bring sleep to invalid children, he recommended their\ncouches or little beds to be turned due north and south--the head\nof the child being placed towards the north--a process which he had\nalways found successful in promoting sleep. After all, however, as\nhas been so often said, the best prescription for a good night's rest\nis a healthy body and a sound mind.\n\nThe well-known phrase, \"to get out of bed the wrong way,\" or \"with\nthe left leg foremost,\" is generally said of an ill-tempered person;\nthe term having originated in an ancient superstition, which\nregarded it as unlucky to place the left foot first on the ground on\ngetting out of bed.\n\nOnce more, as a mark of the simplicity of ancient manners, it was\ncustomary for persons even of the highest rank to sleep together, an\nallusion to which practice occurs in _Henry V._, where Exeter says:--\n\n    \"Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,\n    Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with kingly favours.\"\n\nIn conclusion, we may take one further illustration on this subject\nfrom that useful little article, the bellows, to place which on a\ntable is considered extremely unlucky, and few servants will either\ndo it or allow it to be done.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nHOUSEHOLD SUPERSTITIONS.\n\n    Prevalence and Continuity of\n    Superstitions--Sneezing--Stumbling--A Whistling\n    Woman--Sweeping--Breaking Crockery--Fires and\n    Candles--Money--Other Superstitions.\n\n\nIt has often been asked how that formidable array of superstitions,\nwhich are so firmly established in most houses, came into being, and\nwhat is their origin? Although indeed one may occasionally smile at\nthe \"reign of terror\" which these frequently exercise over their\ncredulous believers, yet it must be admitted they are not limited to\nany one class. In discussing and comparing the intellectual condition\nof one class of society with another, we are apt, while passing\ncensure on the one for its odd notions and fanciful beliefs, to\nforget how the other often cherishes the very same, although it may\nbe in a more disguised form. Thus, by way of example, whereas some\nignorant persons resort to a cunning man or \"wise woman\" for advice\nin case of emergency, many an educated person is found consulting\nwith equal faith a clairvoyant or spirit-medium. While, too, some\nuneducated person believes in a particular omen, which is condemned\nby an intelligent community as the height of folly, many cultivated\npeople, as we have said, may be found who hesitate before sitting\ndown to dinner when the party consists of thirteen. However much,\ntherefore, we may dislike to own the fact, we must acknowledge that\nsuperstition is a distinct element in the human character, although\nunder the influence of education it has not the same opportunity\nfor development as in the case of those whose mental powers have\nnever been thoroughly trained. These superstitions, beliefs, and\npractices, too, it must be remembered, have not sprung up in a day,\nbut have been handed down from generation to generation in popular\ntraditions, tales, rhymes, and proverbs, and consequently have become\nso interwoven with the daily life as to make it no easy task to root\nthem out. It has been truly said:--\n\n    \"How superstitiously we mind our evils!\n    The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare,\n    Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse,\n    Or singing of a cricket, are of power\n    To daunt whole man in us.\"\n\nAs Mr. Tylor has truly shown, when a custom or superstition is\nonce fairly started in the world, disturbing influences may long\naffect it so slightly that it may keep its course from generation\nto generation, as a stream once settled in its bed will flow on for\nages. Thus thousands of superstitions, the true meanings of which\nhave perished for centuries, continue to exist simply because they\nhave existed. A striking example of this fact may be found in the\nwidespread folk-lore associated with the act of sneezing in this\nand other countries, which may be traced back to the most remote\nperiod. Thus, in the classic ages of Greece and Rome, we read of the\nlucky sneeze of Telemachus, and of Aristotle's remark that people\nconsider a sneeze as divine, but not a cough. On account of sneezing\nbeing deemed lucky, it has always been customary to salute the\nsneezer, a custom which the ancient Greeks claimed to have derived\nfrom Prometheus, who stole celestial fire to animate his newly-made\nfigure of clay. Tradition says that as the fire permeated its frame,\nthe creature sneezed, which caused Prometheus to invoke blessings\non it. Anyhow the practice of salutation on sneezing dates from\nthe earliest times, and it is interesting to find a superstition\nof this kind, which may be looked on as a curiosity of primitive\ncivilisation, still existing in our midst. Thus, in the Midland\ncounties, grandmothers still exclaim, \"God help you!\" when they hear\na child sneeze; and it is a very common notion that to sneeze three\ntimes before breakfast is a pledge that one will soon receive a\npresent of some kind. The sneezing of a cat is considered an evil\nomen, it being a sign that the family will all have colds. According\nto a Scotch superstition a new-born child is in the fairy spells\nuntil it sneezes, but when this takes place all danger is past. A\ncorrespondent of _Notes and Queries_ tells us that he once overheard\n\"an old and reverend-looking dame crooning over a new-born child,\nand then, watching it intently and in silence for nearly a minute,\nshe said, taking a huge pinch of snuff, 'Oich! Oich! No yet--no\nyet.' Suddenly the youngster exploded in a startling manner, into a\ntremendous sneeze; when the old lady suddenly bent down and, as far\nas I could see, drew her fore-finger across the brows of the child,\nvery much as if making the sign of the cross (although as a strict\nCalvinist she would have been scandalised at the idea), and joyfully\nexclaimed, 'God sain the bairn it's _no a warlock_.'\" Indeed it is a\nvery prevalent idea that no idiot ever sneezed or could sneeze. Some\nattach importance to the day on which a person sneezes; and in the\nWest of England it is said that--\n\n    \"Sneeze on Sunday morning fasting,\n    You'll enjoy your own true love to everlasting.\"\n\nAnother household superstition which has come down to us from the\nfar-off past is connected with stumbling; frequent allusions to which\noccur in the classic writers. Thus, at the present day to stumble\nup-stairs is considered unlucky by some, but just the reverse by\nothers. Grose remarks that to stumble up the stairs is a prognostic\nof good luck, and in some places it is supposed to indicate that\nthe stumbler if unmarried will cease to be so before the year is\nout. Others affirm that to stumble in the morning as soon as one\ngoes out of doors is a sign of ill-luck. As an instance of this\nomen in ancient times, it is stated that Tiberius Gracchus, as he\nwas leaving his house on the day of his death, stumbled upon the\nthreshold with such violence that he broke the nail of his great\ntoe. It is not necessary, however, to quote further cases of this\nsuperstition in years gone by, it being sufficient for our purpose to\nshow that it has been handed down to us by our ancestors, and that\nstumbling, like sneezing, has always been regarded as an ominous act.\nAgain, stumbling at a grave has been ranked among unlucky omens, a\nsuperstition to which Shakespeare refers in _Romeo and Juliet_ (Act\nv., sc. 3), where Friar Laurence says:--\n\n                    \"How oft to-night\n    Have my old feet stumbled at graves.\"\n\nWe may also compare Gloucester's words in _3 Henry VI._ (Act v., sc.\n3):--\n\n    \"For many men that stumble at the threshold\n    Are well foretold that danger lurks within.\"\n\nHence various charms have been practised to counteract the supposed\nill-effect of this unlucky act, upon which Poor Robin, in his\n\"Almanack for 1695,\" quaintly remarks:--\"All those who, walking the\nstreets, stumble at a stick or stone, and when they are past it turn\nback again to spurn or kick the stone they stumbled at, are liable to\nturn students in Goatam College, and upon admittance to have a coat\nput upon him, with a cap, a bauble, and other ornaments belonging to\nhis degree.\"\n\nAgain, in most places there is a very strong antipathy to a woman\nwhistling about a house, or even out of doors, this act being\nsaid to be always attended with fatal results. Thus, there is a\nCornish saying to the following effect:--\"A whistling woman and a\ncrowing hen are the two unluckiest things under the sun;\" and the\nNorthamptonshire peasantry have this rhyme which is to the same\npurport:--\n\n    \"A whistling woman and crowing hen\n    Are neither fit for God nor men.\"\n\nOr, according to another version:--\n\n    \"A whistling wife and a crowing hen\n    Will call the old gentleman out of his den.\"\n\nWhy there should be this superstitious dislike to a woman's whistling\nit is difficult to decide, but at the same time it is a curious\nfact that one seldom hears any of the fair sex amusing themselves\nin this manner. Mr. Henderson informs us that the seafaring part\nof the population on the coast of Yorkshire have the same dread of\nhearing a woman whistle. A few years ago, when a party of friends\nwere going on board a vessel at Scarborough, the captain astonished\nthem by declining to allow one of them to enter it. \"Not that young\nlady,\" he said, \"she whistles.\" Curiously enough the vessel was\nlost on her next voyage; so, had the poor girl set foot on it, the\nmisfortune would certainly have been ascribed to her. According to\none legend, this superstition originated in the circumstance that\na woman stood by and whistled while she watched the nails for the\nCross being forged. A correspondent of _Notes and Queries_ assigns\nanother origin. He tells us that one day, after attempting in vain\nto get his dog to obey orders to come into the house, his wife\nessayed to whistle, when she was suddenly interrupted by a servant,\na Roman Catholic, who exclaimed in the most piteous accents, \"If you\nplease, ma'am, don't whistle. Every time a woman whistles, the heart\nof the Blessed Virgin bleeds.\" The French, it seems, have a similar\nprejudice to hearing a woman whistle about a house, their proverb\nbeing as follows:--\"Une poule qui chante le coq, et une fille qui\nsiffle, portent malheur dans la maison.\"\n\nThere are numerous signs and omens connected with household work.\nThus, in Suffolk, the people say that if after sweeping a room the\nbroom is accidentally left up in a corner, strangers will visit the\nhouse in the course of that day; while others affirm, in the Northern\ncounties, that to sweep dust out of the house by the front door is\nequivalent to sweeping away the good fortune and happiness of the\nfamily. Care should rather be taken to sweep inwards--the dust being\ncarried out in a basket or shovel--and then no harm will happen.\nFurthermore, the spider, which in daily life is little noticed except\nfor its cobweb, the presence of which in a house generally betokens\nneglect, is by no means an unfriendly intruder. Although the servant\noftentimes ruthlessly sweeps this uncared-for little visitor away\nfrom the wall, yet a common proverb reminds us that--\n\n    \"If you wish to live and thrive,\n    Let the spider run alive,\"\n\nill-luck being supposed to quickly overtake those who kill or even so\nmuch as injure it. It was a notion formerly prevalent in many parts\nof Scotland that should a servant wilfully kill a spider, she would\ncertainly break a piece of crockery or glass before the day was out.\nOne reason why the spider is protected against ill-usage is that it\nis supposed to bring prosperity; but the real cause, perhaps, is due\nto the influence of an old legend which relates how, when Christ lay\nin the manger at Bethlehem, the spider came and spun a web over the\nspot where He was, thus preserving His life by screening Him from all\nthe dangers that surrounded Him.\n\nReferring to the breaking of crockery, of which we have just spoken,\nthere is a prevalent idea that if a servant breaks two things she\nwill break a third. On one occasion the mistress of a household in\nSuffolk was not a little horrified at seeing one of her servants take\nup a coarse earthenware basin and deliberately throw it down upon\nthe brick floor. \"What did you do that for?\" she not unnaturally\ninquired. \"Because, ma'am, I'd broke two things,\" answered the\nservant, \"so I thout the third better be this here,\" pointing to the\nremains of the least valuable piece of pottery in the establishment,\nwhich had been sacrificed to glut the vengeance of the offended\nceramic deities. A correspondent of Chambers' \"Book of Days,\"\nalluding to another piece of superstition of this kind, tells us\nthat he once had a servant who was very much given to breaking glass\nand crockery. Plates and wine-glasses used to slip out of her hands\nas if they had been soaped; even spoons came jingling to the ground\nin rapid succession. \"Let her buy something,\" said the cook, \"and\nthat will change the luck.\" \"Decidedly,\" said the mistress, \"it will\nbe as well that she feel the inconvenience herself.\" \"Oh, I didn't\nmean that, ma'am!\" was the reply; \"I meant that it would change the\nluck.\" A few days after this conversation, on being asked whether she\nhad broken anything more, she answered, \"No, sir, I haven't broken\nnothing since I bout the 'tater dish.\" Unluckily, however, this was\ntoo good to last; the breaking soon re-commenced, and the servant was\nobliged to go.\n\nA superstitious dread still attaches in household matters to\nFriday as being an unlucky day, and many will not even so much as\nturn a bed for fear of some misfortune befalling them. Thus, in\nNorthamptonshire, we are told the housewife allows the bed to remain\nunturned; and a Sussex saying admonishes persons \"never to begin\na piece of work on Friday, or they will never finish it.\" We may\nnote here that one tradition assigns a very early origin to the\nunfortunate reputation of Friday, affirming that it was on this day\nthat Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit. It is considered very\nunlucky to change servants on this day of the week, and many try to\navoid, if possible, doing so.\n\nThat bright and ever-cheerful companion of our homes in winter time,\nthe fire, has given rise to a host of omens and portents, many\nof which at times create no small consternation when the events\nsupposed to be prognosticated are not of a very lucky character. A\nhollow cinder, for example, thrown out of the fire by a jet of gas\nfrom burning coals is looked upon as a coffin if it be long, but as\na money-box if it be round. Some, too, exclaim on seeing the fire\nsuddenly blaze up that a stranger is near; whereas in the Midland\ncounties if the fire burn brightly after it has been stirred, this\nis considered a sign that the absent lover, wife, or husband, as the\ncase may be, is in good spirits. A very popular charm for reviving a\nfire when it has burnt down is to set the poker across the hearth,\nwith the fore-part leaning against the top bar of the grate. The\npoker and top bar thus combined form a _cross_, and so defeat the\nmalice of the witches and demons who preside over smoky chimneys. One\nnotion is that the poker when in this position creates a draught, but\nthe real meaning of this harmless superstition is, perhaps, the one\nthat we have just given. Various items of weather-lore, also, have\nbeen derived from the way fires burn, an enumeration of which we find\nin Willsford's \"Nature's Secrets\":--\"When our common fires do burn\nwith a pale flame, they presage foul weather. If the fire do make a\nbuzzing noise, it is a sign of tempests near at hand. When the fire\nsparkleth very much, it is a sign of rain. If the ashes on the hearth\ndo clodder together of themselves, it is a sign of rain. When pots\nare newly taken off the fire, if they sparkle, the soot upon them\nbeing incensed, it is a sign of rain. When the fire scorcheth and\nburneth more vehemently than it useth to do, it is a sign of frosty\nweather; but if the living coals do shine brighter than commonly at\nother times, expect then rain. If wood, or any other fuel, do crackle\nand wind break forth more than ordinary, it is an evident sign of\nsome tempestuous weather near at hand; the much and sudden falling\nof soot presages rain.\" Once more, there is a curious notion that\nif a person sit musing and intently looking into the fire, it is a\nsign that a badly-disposed person is either fascinating him for evil,\nor throwing an evil spell over him. When this is the case, in order\nto break the spell, some one without speaking or attracting notice\nshould take the tongs and turn the centre piece of coal in the grate\nright over, at the same time repeating certain words. While speaking\nof fires, we may note that there is a belief among the Yorkshire\npeasants that it is unlucky to allow a light to be taken out of their\nhouses on Christmas Day--a superstition which prevails in Lancashire\nwith regard to New Year's Day. A few years ago a man was summoned at\nBradford on a charge of wilful damage by breaking a pane of glass\nin a cottage window. Having entered for the purpose of lighting his\ncandle, the woman of the house strongly remonstrated, but offered him\ninstead a few matches. The man then created a disturbance, and on the\nhusband trying to eject him he broke the window.\n\nOmens, too, from candles are very numerous. Thus, we may note\nthat in some of the Northern counties a bright spark in the candle\npredicts the arrival of a letter, and if it drops on the first shake,\nit is an indication that the letter has already been posted. To snuff\nout a candle accidentally is a sign of matrimony, and a curious mode\nof divination is still practised by means of a pin and a candle.\nThe anxious lover, while the candle is burning, takes a pin and\ncautiously sticks it through the wax, taking care that it pierces the\nwick, repeating meanwhile the following rhyme:--\n\n    \"It's not this candle alone I stick,\n    But A. B.'s heart I mean to prick;\n    Whether he be asleep or awake,\n    I'd have him come to me and speak.\"\n\nShe then patiently watches, for if the pin remains in the wick after\nthe candle has burnt below the place in which it was inserted, then\nthe loved one will be sure to appear; but should the pin drop out, it\nis a sign that he is faithless.\n\nThere are, however, a host of other superstitions relating to\nhome-life, some of which we can only briefly describe, scattered\nas they are here and there over the United Kingdom, and varying in\ndifferent localities. Thus, according to a well-known superstition,\nif a person suddenly shivers, it is a sign that some one is\nwalking over his future grave, a notion which is not limited to\nany particular county, extending as far north as Scotland. It\nis fortunate, however, that all persons are not subject to this\nsensation, otherwise the inhabitants of those districts or parishes\nwhose burial-grounds are much frequented would, as an old antiquarian\nwriter has observed, \"live in one continued fit of shaking.\" Some,\ntoo, deem it unlucky to turn back after they have once started on\nsome errand, or to be recalled and told of something previously\nforgotten. This superstition extends beyond our own country, and\nis found on the Continent, as for example in Sweden, where it is\nconsidered unadvisable not only to turn round when one is going on\nbusiness, lest it should turn out ill, but even so much as to look\nback. At the present day, too, in the Midland counties, children\nare frequently cautioned by their parents not to walk backwards\nwhen going on some errand, it being regarded as a sure sign that\nmisfortune will befall them if they disobey this injunction. Akin to\nthis superstition, there are several others of a similar kind, among\nwhich we may include the supposed ill-luck of walking under a ladder;\nand North-country people have a dislike to meeting a left-handed\nperson on a Tuesday morning, although on other days it is considered\nfortunate to do so. Referring to the many other items of folk-lore\nassociated with our daily life, we must not omit those relating to\nmoney. Thus, it is generally acknowledged to be a bad omen to find\nit; and to insure health and prosperity, one should always turn a\npiece of money in one's pocket on first seeing the new moon, and\non hearing the cuckoo in spring. There is, too, the common custom\nof the lower orders to spit on money for \"luck's sake,\" a practice\nwhich is not only found in foreign countries, but may be traced back\nto ancient times. Misson, in his \"Travels in England,\" describes\nthis piece of superstition as it prevailed in this country in former\nyears:--\"A woman that goes much to market told me t'other day that\nthe butcher-women of London, those that sell fowls, butter, eggs,\netc., and in general most tradespeople, have a peculiar esteem for\nwhat they call a _handsel_, that is to say, the first money they\nreceive in the morning they kiss it, spit upon it, and put it in a\npocket by itself.\" Many, too, as a charm against poverty, carry a\npiece of money, with a hole in it, or one that is bent, in allusion\nto which Gay says:--\n\n                \"This silver ring beside,\n    Three silver pennies, and a nine-pence bent,\n    A token kind to Brunkinet is sent.\"\n\nOthers, again, dislike \"counting their gains,\" a superstition which,\nit has been suggested, may have some connection with David's sin in\nnumbering the people of Israel and Judah. Hence some regard with\nfeelings of strong antipathy our own decennial census, and it is only\nthe compulsion of the law which induces them to comply with this\nnational means of ascertaining the state of the population. Among\nminor superstitions, it is said that smoke and dust always follow the\nfairest; and if without any neglect, but even with care, articles of\nsteel, such as keys, knives, &c., continually become rusty, it is\na sign that some kind-hearted person is laying up money for one's\nbenefit.\n\nWhen, too, as often by coincidence happens, two persons in\nconversation are on the point of telling each other the same thing,\nit is an indication that some lie will before long be told about\nthem; others think that if the two immediately join hands and wish\nsilently, their desires cannot fail to come to pass. Some again,\nhave a strong objection either to being weighed or to having their\nlikeness taken, the latter superstition being mentioned by Mr.\nNapier as prevalent in some parts of Scotland. Once more, there is a\nbelief among the Sussex peasantry that bottles which have contained\nmedicine should never be sold, or else they will soon be required\nto be filled again for some one in the house. These are some of the\nquaint superstitions with which even the trivial occurrences of home\nlife are surrounded, and although, according to one view, many of\nthese have little or no foundation for their existence beyond their\ntraditionary history, yet it is a remarkable fact that they should\nhave preserved their characteristic traits in spite of the long\ncourse of years through which they have travelled down to us from the\npast.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nPOPULAR DIVINATIONS.\n\n    Bible and Key--Dipping--Sieve and Shears--Crowing\n    of the Cock--Spatulamancia--Palmistry and\n    Onymancy--Look-divination--Astrology--Cards--Casting\n    Lot--Tea-stalks.\n\n\nThe practice of divination, or foretelling future events, has existed\namongst most nations in all ages; and, although not so popular as\nin days gone by, yet it still retains its hold on the popular mind.\nMany of the methods for diving into futurity are extremely curious,\nand instances of them occasionally find their way into the papers.\nIn a previous chapter we have already shown how numerous are the\ndivinations practised in love affairs, and what an importance is\nattached to them by the maiden bent on ascertaining her lot in the\nmarriage state. There are, however, many other ends to which this\nspecies of superstition is employed, one being the detection of\nguilt. Thus, a common method is by the \"Bible and the Key,\" which\nis resorted to more or less by the humbler classes from one end of\nthe United Kingdom to the other, the mode of procedure being as\nfollows:--The key is placed on a certain chapter, and the Sacred\nVolume closed and fastened tightly. The Bible and the key are then\nsuspended to a nail, the accused person's name is repeated three\ntimes by one of those present, while another recites these words:--\n\n    \"If it turns to thee thou art the thief,\n          And we all are free.\"\n\nThis incantation being concluded, should the key be found to have\nturned, it is unanimously agreed that the accused is the guilty one.\nNot very long ago, a lady residing at Ludlow having lost a sheet\nmade use of this test. Armed with a copy of the Sacred Book, she\nperambulated the neighbourhood, placing the key in the volume near\nseveral houses. At last, on arriving before a certain door, it was\nalleged that the key with much alacrity began, of its own accord, to\nturn; whereupon the owner of the lost sheet uttered the suspected\nperson's name as loudly as she could; after which, it is said, the\nBible turned completely round and fell on the ground. Again, a year\nor two ago, at Southampton, a boy working on a collier was charged\nwith theft, the only evidence against him being such as was afforded\nby the ordeal of the Bible and key. It seems that the mate and some\nothers swung a Bible attached to a key with a piece of yarn, the\nkey being placed on the first chapter of Ruth. While the Bible was\nturning, the names of several persons suspected were called over, but\non mention of the prisoner's the book fell on the ground. The bench,\nof course, discharged the prisoner.\n\nClosely akin to this method of divination is the well-known medi\u00e6val\ndiversion known as the _Sortes Virgilian\u00e6_, which consisted in\nopening a volume of Virgil's works, and forecasting the future from\nsome word or passage selected at random. The Sacred Book is now the\nmodern substitute, and there is no doubt but that the superstition is\nthousands of years older than even the Virgil of the Augustan age.\nThis custom, practised in many parts of England on New Year's Day,\nis called \"Dipping.\" A Bible is laid on the table at breakfast-time,\nand those who wish to consult it open its pages at random; it being\nsupposed that the events of the ensuing year will be in some way\nforeshown by the contents of the chapter contained in the two open\npages. Sometimes the anxious inquirer will take the Bible to bed\nwith him on New Year's Eve, and on awaking after twelve o'clock,\nopen it in the dark, mark a verse with his thumb, turn down a corner\nof the page, and replace the book under the pillow. That verse is\nsaid to be a prophecy of the good or bad luck that will befall him\nduring the coming year. This as a mode of divination is extensively\npractised. Another form of this superstition consists in foretelling\nthe events in a man's life from the last chapter of the Book of\nProverbs, the thirty-one verses of this chapter being supposed to\nhave a mystical reference to the corresponding days of the month.\nThus, it is predicted of persons born on the 14th that they will\nget their \"food from afar.\" A correspondent of _Notes and Queries_,\nwriting from a Northamptonshire village, tells us that \"this is so\nfully believed in by some that a boy has actually been apprenticed to\na _linen_-draper, for no other reason than because he was born on the\n24th of the month; whilst those born on the 13th would be sent to a\n_woollen_-draper. The twenty-fourth verse speaks of 'fine linen,' and\nthe thirteenth of 'wool.'\"\n\nAnother means of discovering a guilty person is by the \"Sieve and\nShears,\" one of those divinatory instruments upon which such implicit\nreliance has been placed by superstitious folk from time out of mind,\ndescribed as it is in the \"Hudibras\" as\n\n    \"Th' oracle of sieve and shears,\n    That turns as certain as the spheres.\"\n\nThe sieve is held hanging by a thread, or else by the points of a\npair of shears stuck into its rim, it being supposed to turn, or\nswing, or fall at the mention of a thief's name, and give similar\nsigns for other purposes. This ancient rite was formerly known as\nthe \"Trick of the Sieve and Scissors,\" and was generally practised\namong the Greeks for ascertaining crime. We find an allusion to it in\nTheocritus:--\n\n    \"To Agrio, too, I made the same demand;\n    A cunning woman she, I cross'd her hand:\n    She turn'd the sieve and shears, and told me true,\n    That I should love, but not be lov'd by you.\"\n\nAmong other modes of divination practised for the same purpose,\nthere is one by the crowing of the cock. Thus, a farmer in Cornwall\nhaving been robbed of some property, invited all his neighbours into\nhis cottage, and when they were assembled he placed a cock under\nthe \"brandice\" (an iron vessel formerly much used by the peasantry\nin baking), he then asked each one to touch the brandice with the\nthird finger, and say, \"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy\nGhost, speak.\" Every one did as they were directed, and yet no sound\ncame from beneath the brandice. The last person was a woman who\noccasionally laboured for the farmer in his field. She hung back,\nhoping to pass unobserved amidst the crowd. The neighbours, however,\nwould not permit her to do so, and no sooner had she touched the\nbrandice than, before she could even utter the prescribed words,\nthe cock crew. Thereupon she fainted on the spot, and on recovering\nconfessed her guilt.\n\nIn the North of England there was formerly a curious process of\ndivination in the case of a person bewitched:--A black hen was\nstolen, the heart taken out, stuck full of pins, and roasted at\nmidnight. It was then supposed that the \"double\" of the witch would\ncome and nearly pull the door down. If, however, the \"double\" was not\nseen, any one of the neighbours who had passed a remarkably bad night\nwas fixed upon.\n\nReferring in the next place to what may be considered the principal\nobject of divination, a knowledge of futurity, we find various\nmystic arts in use to gain this purpose. Foremost among these may be\nreckoned \"Spatulamancia,\" \"reading the speal-bone,\" or \"divination\nby the blade-bone,\" an art which is of very ancient origin. It is,\nwe are told by Mr. Tylor, especially found in Tartary, whence it may\nhave spread into all other countries where we hear of it. The mode of\nprocedure is as follows:--The shoulder-blade is put on the fire till\nit cracks in various directions, and then a long split lengthwise\nis reckoned as \"the way of life,\" while cross-cracks on the right\nand left stand for different kinds of good and evil fortune, and so\non. In Ireland, Camden speaks of looking through the blade-bone of a\nsheep, to discover a black spot which foretells a death; and Drayton\nin his \"Polyolbion\" thus describes it:--\n\n    \"By th' shoulder of a ram from off the right side par'd,\n    Which usually they boile, the spade-bone being bar'd,\n    Which when the wizard takes, and gazing thereupon\n    Things long to come foreshows, as things done long agone.\"\n\nThis species of divination was in days gone by much practised in\nScotland, and a good account of the Highland custom of thus divining\nis given by Mr. Thoms in the \"Folk-Lore Record\" (i. 177), from a\nmanuscript account by Mr. Donald McPherson, a bookseller of Chelsea,\na Highlander born, and who was well acquainted with the superstitions\nof his countrymen:--\"Before the shoulder-blade is inspected, the\nwhole of the flesh must be stripped clean off, without the use of\nany metal, either by a bone or a hard wooden knife, or by the teeth.\nMost of the discoveries are made by inspecting the spots that may be\nobserved in the semi-transparent part of the blade; but very great\nproficients penetrate into futurity though the opaque parts also.\nNothing can be known that may happen beyond the circle of the ensuing\nyear. The discoveries made have relation only to the person for whom\nthe sacrifice is offered.\"\n\nChiromancy, or palmistry, as a means of unravelling hidden things,\nstill finds favour not only with gipsy fortune-tellers, but even\nwith those who profess to belong to the intelligent classes of\nsociety. This branch of fortune-telling flourished in ancient\nGreece and Italy, as we are informed it still does in India, where\nto say, \"It is written on the palms of my hands,\" is the ordinary\nway of expressing what is looked upon as inevitable. The professors\nof this art formerly attributed to it a Divine origin, quoting\nas their authority the following verse from the Book of Job: \"He\nsealeth up the hand of every man, that all men may know his work;\"\nor as the Vulgate renders the passage: \"Qui in manu omnium hominum\nsigna posuit\"--\"Who has placed signs in the hand of all men\"--which\ncertainly gives it a more chiromantical meaning. Thus chiromancy, or\npalmistry, traces the future from an examination of the \"lines\" of\nthe palm of the hand, each of which has its own peculiar character\nand name, as for instance the line of long life, of married life, of\nfortune, and so on. However childish this system may be, it still\nhas its numerous votaries, and can often be seen in full force at\nour provincial fairs. Referring to its popularity in this country in\nformer years, we find it severely censured by various writers. Thus\none author of the year 1612 speaks of \"vain and frivolous devices\nof which sort we have an infinite number, also used amongst us, as\nnamely in palmistry, where men's fortunes are told by looking on the\npalms of the hand.\"\n\nA superstition akin to palmistry is onymancy, or divination by the\nfinger-nails, which is still a widespread object of belief. Sir\nThomas Browne, in his \"Vulgar Errors,\" describing it, admits that\nconjectures \"of prevalent humours may be gathered from the spots on\nthe nails,\" but rejects the sundry prognostications usually derived\nfrom them, such as \"that spots on the tops of the nails signify\nthings past, in the middle things present, and at the bottom events\nto come; that white specks presage our felicity, blue ones our\nmisfortunes; that those in the nail of the thumb have significations\nof honour, of the fore-finger riches.\" As practised at the present\nday, this mode of divination differs in various counties. Thus, in\nSussex, we are told by Mrs. Latham that the fortune-tellers commence\nwith the thumb, and say \"A gift,\" judging of its probable size by\nthat of the mark. They then touch the fore-finger, and add \"A\nfriend;\" and should they find a spot upon the nail of the middle\nfinger, they gravely affirm it denotes the existence of an enemy\nsomewhere. It is the presence or absence of such a mark on the third\nfinger that proves one's future good or ill success in love; whereas\none on the little finger is a warning that the person will soon have\nto undergo a journey.\n\nAgain, some profess to be able to tell events by the face, or\n\"look-divination\"--a species of physiognomy which was formerly\nmuch believed in by all classes of society, and may still be met\nwith in country villages. Indeed, there is scarcely a mark on the\nface which has not been supposed to betoken something or other;\nand in a book of \"Palmistry and Physiognomy,\" translated by Fabian\nWithers, 1656, are recorded sundry modes of divination from \"upright\neyebrows, brows hanging over, narrow foreheads, faces plain and\nflat, lean faces, sad faces, sharp noses, ape-like noses, thick\nnostrils,\" &c. However foolish these may appear, yet there will\nalways be simple-minded persons ready to make themselves miserable\nby believing that the future events of their life--either for weal\nor woe--are indelibly written on their face. Equally illogical and\nfanciful is that pseudo-science, astrology, whereby the affairs of\nmen, it is said, can be read from the motions of the heavenly bodies.\nA proof of the extensive belief at the present day in this mode of\ndivination may be gathered from the piles of \"Zadkiel's Almanacks\"\nwhich regularly appear in the fashionable booksellers' windows\nabout Christmas-time. That educated people, who must be aware how\nnames of stars and constellations have been arbitrarily given by\nastronomers, should still find in these materials for calculating\nhuman events, is a curious case of superstitious survival. Very many,\nfor instance, are firmly convinced that a child born under the \"Crab\"\nwill not do well in life, and that another born under the \"Waterman\"\nis likely to meet with a watery death, and so forth. This science,\nas is well known, is of very old institution, and originated in a\ngreat measure in the primitive ages of the world, when animating\nintelligences were supposed to reside in the celestial bodies. As\nthese mythical conceptions, however, have long ago passed away under\nthe influence of civilisation, one would scarcely expect to find in\nour enlightened nineteenth century so great a number of intellectual\npersons putting faith in such a system of delusion. In this respect,\nhappily, we are not worse than our Continental neighbours; for there\nare many districts in Germany where the child's horoscope is still\nregularly kept with the baptismal certificate in the family chest.\nIn days gone by, this kind of divination was very widely credited\nin this country, and by most of our old writers is most unsparingly\ncondemned. Thus Shakespeare, in _King Lear_ (Act i., sc. 2), has\nridiculed it in a masterly way, when he represents Edmund as saying:\n\"This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick\nin fortune--often the surfeit of our own behaviour--we make guilty\nof our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars, as if we were\nvillains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves,\nthieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars,\nand adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence.\" Sir\nThomas Browne goes so far as to attribute divination by astrology\nto Satan, remarking how he \"makes the ignorant ascribe natural\neffects to supernatural causes; and thus deludes them with this\nform of error.\" And another old writer sensibly adds that, although\nastrologers undertake \"to tell all people most obscure and hidden\nsecrets abroad, they at the same time know not what happens in their\nown houses and in their own chambers.\" In spite, however, of the\nfrequent denunciations of this popular form of superstition, it\nappears that they had little effect, for James I. was notorious for\nhis credulity about such delusions; and both Charles I. and Cromwell\nare said to have consulted astrologers.\n\nA further form of divination still much practised is by a pack of\ncards, most of these being supposed to have a symbolical meaning;\nthe king of hearts, for example, denoting a true-loving swain, and\nthe king of diamonds indicating great wealth. The following quaint\nlines, extracted from an old chap-book quoted in Brand's \"Popular\nAntiquities,\" describe this mode of fortune-telling as it was\nformerly consulted by our credulous countrymen:--\n\n    \"This noble king of diamond shows,\n    Thou long shalt live where pleasure flows;\n    But when a woman draws the king,\n    Great melancholy songs she'll sing.\n\n    He that draws the ace of hearts,\n    Shall surely be a man of parts;\n    And she that draws it, I profess,\n    Will have the gift of idleness.\"\n\nIndeed, scarcely a month passes without several persons being\npunished for extorting money from silly people, on the pretence of\nrevealing to them by card-divination their future condition in life.\nAmong the gipsies this is the favourite form of fortune-telling; and\nits omens are eagerly received by anxious aspirants after matrimony,\nwho are ever desirous to know whether their husbands are to be tall\nor short, dark or fair, rich or poor, and so on. Mrs. Latham tells us\nof a certain woman who was reported to be skilful in such matters,\nand was in the habit of confidently foretelling with a pack of cards\nher fellow-servants' coming lot in matrimony. The mode of procedure\nwas as follows:--The cards were dealt round by the diviner, with much\nmystical calculation, and the fortunate maiden who found the ace of\ndiamonds in her heap was to marry a rich man. The one, however, who\nwas unlucky enough to have the knave of clubs or spades was destined\nto have nothing but poverty and misery in her wedded state. Again,\nthe presence of the king of diamonds or of hearts in hand was a sign\nthat the possessor's partner for life would be a fair man, while\nthe king of clubs or spades gave warning that he would be dark. To\nfind in one's heap either the knave of hearts or of diamonds was\nmost ominous, as it revealed an unknown enemy. Again, divination\nby casting lot has not yet fallen into disuse. According to some\nthis means of deciding doubtful matters is of God's appointment, and\ntherefore cannot fail, the following text being quoted as a proof:\n\"The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is\nof the Lord\" (Proverbs xvi. 33). In Lancashire, when boys do not\nwish to divide anything they decide \"who must take all\" by drawing\n\"short cuts.\" A number of straws, pieces of twine, &c., of different\nlengths, are held by one not interested, so that an equal portion\nof each is alone visible; each boy draws one, and he who gets the\nlongest is entitled to the prize.\n\nA new-laid egg affords another means of diving into futurity. The\nperson anxious to be enlightened about his future perforates with a\npin the small end of an egg, and lets three drops of the white fall\ninto a basin of water, which soon diffuse themselves on the surface\ninto a variety of fantastic shapes. From these the fortune-teller\nwill predict the fortune of the credulous one, the character of his\nfuture wife, and a variety of particulars concerning his domestic\nhappiness. A similar practice is kept up in Denmark, where young\nwomen melt lead on New Year's Eve, and after pouring it into water,\nobserve on the following morning what form it has assumed. If it\nresembles a pair of scissors, they will inevitably marry tailors; if\na hammer, their husbands will be smiths, and so on.\n\nDivination by a staff was formerly a common practice in Scotland.\nWhen a person wished to go on a pleasure excursion into the country,\nand was unsettled in his mind as to which way to go, he resorted\nto this form of consulting fate. Taking a stick, he would poise it\nperpendicularly, and then leave it to fall of itself; and he would\nselect the direction towards which it pointed while it lay on the\nground. It has been suggested by some of our Biblical scholars that\nit is to this sort of divination that the prophet Hosea referred\nwhen he said \"Their staff declareth unto them;\" but this is mere\nconjecture.\n\nAmong other common modes of divination may be mentioned that by\ntea-stalks. If two appear on the surface of a cup of tea, they\nshould be placed on the back of the left hand, and struck with the\nback of the right. If they remain unmoved on the left, or adhere\nto the right, then it is an omen that the absent loved one will\nremain faithful. Tea-stalks are also said to foretell visitors,\nindicating the person to be visited by floating to the side of the\nindividual. We might easily extend our list of popular divinations,\nbut space forbids our doing so; and those already enumerated in the\npreceding pages have perhaps given a sufficient idea of the devices\nwhich have been resorted to, from time to time, by our superstitious\ncountry-folk for gaining an insight into futurity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nCOMMON AILMENTS.\n\n    Charm-remedies--For Ague--Bleeding of the\n    Nose--Burns--Cramp--Epilepsy--Fits--Gout--Headache, &c.\n\n\nAt the present day, in spite of the \"march of intellect,\" there is\nstill a widespread belief in the prevention and cure of the common\nailments of life by certain remedies, which take the form of charms\nand amulets, or are preserved in those countless quaint recipes\nwhich, from time immemorial, have been handed down from parent to\nchild. Indeed, thousands of our population place far greater faith\nin their domestic treatment of disease than in the skill of medical\nscience, one of the chief requirements being that the patient should\nsubmit to the treatment recommended for his recovery with a full and\nearnest belief that a cure will be effected. Hence, however eccentric\nthe remedy for some complaint may be, we occasionally find not only\nthe ignorant but even educated classes scrupulously obeying the\ndirections enjoined on them, although these are often by no means\neasy of accomplishment. Therefore, as most of the ordinary ailments\nof every-day life have what are popularly termed in folk-medicine\ntheir \"charm-remedies,\" we shall give a brief account of some of\nthese remedies in the present chapter, arranging the diseases they\nare supposed to cure in alphabetical order.\n\n\n_Ague._--No complaint, perhaps, has offered more opportunities for\nthe employment of charms than this one, owing in a great measure to\nan old superstition that it is not amenable to medical treatment.\nThus, innumerable remedies have been suggested for its cure, many\nof which embody the strangest superstitious fancies. According to a\npopular notion, fright is a good cure, and by way of illustration\nwe may quote the case of a gentleman, afflicted by this disease in\nan aggravated form, who entertained a great fear of rats. On one\noccasion he was accidentally confined in a room with one of these\nunwelcome visitors, and the intruder jumped upon him. The intensity\nof his alarm is said to have driven out the ague, and to have\ncompletely cured him. An amusing anecdote is also told of a poor\nwoman who had suffered from this unenviable complaint for a long\ntime. Her husband having heard of persons being cured by fright, one\nday came to her with a very long face, and informed her that her\nfavourite pig was dead. Her first impulse was to rush to the scene of\nthe catastrophe, where she found to her great relief that piggy was\nalive and well. The fright, however, had done its work, and from that\nday forth she never had a touch of ague, although she resided in the\nsame locality. A Sussex remedy prescribes \"seven sage leaves to be\neaten by the patient fasting seven mornings running;\" and in Suffolk\nthe patient is advised to take a handful of salt, and to bury it in\nthe ground, the idea being that as the salt dissolves so he will lose\nhis ague. A Devonshire piece of folk-lore tells us that a person\nsuffering from ague may easily give it to his neighbour by burying\nunder his threshold a bag containing the parings of a dead man's\nnails, and some of the hairs of his head. Some people wear a leaf of\ntansy in their shoes, and others consider pills made of a spider's\nweb equally efficacious, one pill being taken before breakfast for\nthree successive mornings.\n\n\n_Bleeding of the Nose._--A key, on account of the coldness of the\nmetal of which it is composed, is often placed on the person's back;\nand hence the term \"key-cold\" has become proverbial, an allusion to\nwhich we find in _King Richard III._ (Act i., sc. 2), where Lady\nAnne, speaking of the corpse of King Henry VI., exclaims:--\n\n    \"Poor key-cold figure of a holy king.\"\n\nA Norfolk remedy consists in wearing a skein of scarlet silk round\nthe neck, tied with nine knots in the front. If the patient is a\nmale, the silk should be put on and the knots tied by a female, and\n_vice vers\u00e2_. In some places a toad is killed by transfixing it with\nsome sharp-pointed instrument, after which it is enclosed in a little\nbag and suspended round the neck.\n\n\n_Burn or Scald._--According to a deep-rooted notion among our rural\npopulation, the most efficacious cure for a scald or burn is to be\nfound in certain word-charms, mostly of a religious character. One\nexample runs as follows:--\n\n    \"There came two angels from the north,\n    One was Fire, and one was Frost.\n    Out Fire: in Frost,\n    In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.\"\n\nMany of our peasantry, instead of consulting a doctor in the case of\na severe burn, often resort to some old woman supposed to possess the\ngift of healing. A person of this description formerly resided in a\nvillage in Suffolk. When consulted she prepared a kind of ointment,\nwhich she placed on the part affected, and after making the sign of\nthe cross, repeated the following formula three times:--\n\n    \"There were two angels came from the north,\n    One brought fire, the other brought frost;\n    Come out fire, go in frost,\n    Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.\"\n\nThis, as the reader will see, is in substance the same as the one\nquoted above, and is a fair sample of those used in other localities.\n\n\n_Cramp._--Of the many charms resorted to for the cure of this painful\ndisorder, a common one consists in wearing about the person the\npatella or knee-cap of a sheep or lamb, which is known in some places\nas the \"cramp-bone.\" This is worn as near the skin as possible, and\nat night is laid under the pillow. In many counties finger-rings made\nfrom the screws or handles of coffins are still considered excellent\npreservatives, and in Lancashire it is prevented by either placing\nthe shoes at bed-time with the toes just peeping from beneath the\ncoverlet, or by carrying brimstone about with one during the day.\nSome, again, wear a tortoise-shell ring, while others have equal\nfaith in tying the garter round the left leg below the knee. In days\ngone by a celebrated cure for this complaint was the \"cramp-ring,\"\nallusions to which we find in many of our old authors. Its supposed\nvirtue was conferred by solemn consecration on Good Friday.\n\n\n_Epilepsy._--The remedies for this terrible disorder are extremely\ncurious, and in most cases vary in different localities. One,\nhowever, very popular charm is a ring made from a piece of silver\nmoney collected at the offertory. A correspondent of Chambers's \"Book\nof Days\" tells us that when he was a boy a person \"came to his father\n(a clergyman) and asked for a 'sacramental shilling,' _i.e._, one\nout of the alms collected at the Holy Communion, to be made into a\nring and worn as a cure for epilepsy.\" In the North of England \"a\nsacramental piece,\" as it is usually called, is the sovereign remedy\nfor this complaint. Thirty pence are to be begged of thirty poor\nwidows. They are then to be carried to the church minister, for which\nhe is to give the applicant a half-crown piece from the communion\nalms. After being \"walked with nine times up and down the church\naisle,\" the piece is then to have a hole drilled in it, and to be\nhung round the neck by a ribbon. It has been suggested that these\nwidows' pence may have some reference to the widow's mite which was\nso estimable in the eyes of Christ. According to one notion, persons\nafflicted with epileptic fits are supposed to be bewitched, and the\nfollowing extraordinary remedy is sometimes resorted to for their\ncure. A quart bottle is filled with pins, and placed in front of\nthe fire until the pins are red-hot. As soon as this takes place it\nis supposed they will prick the heart of the witch, who to avoid\nthe pain caused by the red-hot pins will release her victim from\nthe suffering she has imposed upon him. This mode of disenchantment\nseems to have been of common occurrence; and sometimes, when old\nhouses are under repair, bottles full of pins are found secreted in\nout-of-the-way places. Another remedy is for the patient to creep,\nhead foremost, down three pair of stairs, three times a day, for\nthree successive days. Sir Thomas Brown, too, discourses of the\nvirtues of mistletoe in this complaint; and Sir John Colbach, writing\nin the year 1720, strongly recommends it as a medicine, adding that\nthis beautiful plant must have been designed by the Almighty \"for\nfurther and more noble purposes than barely to feed thrushes, or to\nbe hung up superstitiously in houses to drive away evil spirits.\"\n\n\n_Erysipelas._--This distemper has been popularly called \"St.\nAnthony's Fire,\" from the legend that it was miraculously checked\nby that saint when raging in many parts of Europe in the eleventh\ncentury. An amulet formerly worn to ward it off was made of the elder\non which the sun had never shone. \"If,\" says an old writer, \"the\npiece between the two knots be hung about the patient's neck, it is\nmuch commended. Some cut it in little pieces, and sew it in a knot in\na piece of a man's shirt.\" A remedy in use among the lower orders,\nand extending as far as the Highlands, is to cut off one half of\nthe ear of a cat, and to let the blood drop on the part affected--a\npractice which is evidently a survival of the primitive notion that a\nliving sacrifice appeased the wrath of God.\n\n\n_Fits._--Numerous indeed have been the charms invented for those\nsuffering from this malady, and in many cases they are \"marvellously\nmystical withal.\" Thus that little animal the mole has been in\nrequest, as the following mystic prescription will show. A gentleman\nresiding in 1865, on the border ground of Norfolk and Suffolk, was\none day asked by a neighbour to catch a live mole, as \"her darter's\nlittle gal was subject to fits, and she had been told that if she got\na live mole, cut the tip of his nose off, and let nine drops bleed on\nto a lump of sugar, and gave that to the child, 'twas a sartin cure.\"\nHere again we have the same notion of a sacrifice, one which, it may\nbe noticed, underlies many of the charms of this kind. A Devonshire\nremedy is to go into a church at midnight and to walk three times\nround the Communion table, while many single women wear a silver\nring on the wedding-ring finger, made out of sixpences which have\nbeen begged from six young bachelors.\n\n\n_Gout._--The periodical attacks of this disease have from the\nearliest times been subjected to the influence of charms,\nblackberries being considered by the Greeks a good specific. Culpeper\nhas bequeathed to us a curious remedy. He says, \"Take an owl, pull\noff her feathers, and pull out her guts; salt her well for a week,\nthen put her into a pot, and stop it close, and put her into an oven,\nthat so she may be brought into a mummy, which, being beat into\npowder and mixed with boar's grease, is an excellent remedy for gout,\nanointing the grieved place by the fire.\" The germander speedwell\nhas been esteemed highly efficacious, and the Emperor Charles V. is\nreported to have derived benefit from it.\n\n\n_Headache._--Cures to alleviate this tiresome pain are numberless.\nMrs. Latham mentions what is considered by the Sussex peasantry a\nsure way of avoiding it in the spring, a piece of superstition we\nhave already noticed: \"No hair, either cut or combed from the head,\nmust be thrown carelessly away, lest some bird should find it and\ncarry it off, in which case the person's head would ache during all\nthe time that the bird was busy working the spoil into its nest. 'I\nknew how it would be,' exclaimed a servant, 'when I saw that bird fly\naway with a bit of my hair that blew out of the window this morning\nwhen I was dressing; I knew I should have a clapping headache,\nand so I have.'\" In some counties the common corn-poppy is called\n\"headache,\" from the cephalalgic tendency of the scent.\n\n\n_Hydrophobia._--From the most remote period no disease, perhaps,\nhas possessed such a curious history, or been invested with so\nmany superstitions as hydrophobia, and the countless remedies\nsuggested for its cure form an important chapter in folk-medicine.\nIn tracing back its history, we find that it was not only regarded\nby our ancestors with the same horror as now-a-days, but that every\nconceivable device was resorted to for removing its fatal effects.\nThus, Pliny relates the case of a Roman soldier who was cured by the\ndog-rose, a remedy said to have been revealed to the man's mother\nin a dream. Among sundry other remedies he enumerates the hair of a\nman's head, goose-grease, fuller's earth, colewort, fish-brine, &c.,\nas applications to the wounds. The favourite cure of Dioscorides was\nhellebore, and Galen's principal one was the river-crab. Sucking\nthe wound seems also to have been considered efficacious. Passing\non to modern times, the extraordinary remedies still employed are a\nconvincing proof of the extent to which superstition occasionally\nreaches. The list, indeed, is not an inviting one, consisting amongst\nother things of the liver of a male goat, the tail of a shrew-mouse,\nthe brain and comb of a cock, the worm under the tongue of a mad\ndog, horse-dung, pounded ants, and cuckoo soup. It may seem, too,\nincredible to us that less than a century ago the suffocation of\nthe wretched victim was not unfrequently resorted to, and instances\nof this barbarous practice may be found in the periodical literature\nof bygone years. Thus, in _The Dublin Chronicle_ (28th October,\n1798), the following circumstances are recorded:--\"A fine boy, aged\nfourteen, was bitten by a lady's lap-dog near Dublin. In about two\nhours the youth was seized with convulsive fits, and shortly after\nwith hydrophobia; and, notwithstanding every assistance, his friends\nwere obliged to smother him between two feather beds.\" In the year\n1712, four persons were tried at York Assizes for smothering a boy,\nwho had been bitten by a mad dog, on a similar plea as that uttered\nby Othello:--\n\n    \"I that am cruel am yet merciful:\n    I would not have thee linger in thy pain.\"\n\nAs recently as the year 1867 this mode of death was put into\nexecution in the town of Greenfield, Michigan. A little girl having\nbeen seized with hydrophobia, a consultation was held by the\nphysicians, and as soon as it had been decided by them that she could\nnot recover, her parents put an end to her sufferings by smothering\nher to death. The folk-lore of this disease is most extensive, and as\nour space is limited we cannot do better than recommend our readers\nto consult Mr. Dolan's capital volume on \"Rabies, or Hydrophobia,\"\nwhich contains an excellent description of the antiquity and history\nof this cruel complaint, and of superstitions which surround it.\n\n\n_Hysteria._--This disorder, which assumes so many deceptive forms,\nwas formerly known as \"the mother,\" or \"hysterica passio,\" an\nallusion to which occurs in _King Lear_ (Act ii., sc. 4), where\nShakespeare represents the king as saying,\n\n    \"O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!\n    _Hysterica passio!_ down, thou climbing sorrow,\n    Thy element's below!\"\n\nSome of the charms used for its cure are much the same as those\nemployed in cases of epilepsy, a favourite one being the wearing of a\nring made of a certain number of silver pieces obtained from persons\nof the opposite sex.\n\n\n_Jaundice._--Many of the remedies recommended for this complaint are\nnot of a very agreeable kind, as, for instance, the following one\nmentioned by a correspondent of _Notes and Queries_, first, as having\nbeen resorted to in a Dorsetshire parish, where the patient was\nordered to eat nine lice on a piece of bread and butter. One popular\ncharm in days gone by, and certainly not of a very refined character,\nwas known as the cure by transplantation, and consisted in burying in\na dunghill an odd number of cakes made of ashes and other ingredients.\n\n\n_Lameness._--Sleeping on stones, on a particular night, is an old\nmethod of curing lameness practised in Cornwall.\n\n\n_Lumbago._--In Dundee it is customary to wear round the loins as a\ncure for lumbago a hank of yarn which has been charmed by a wise\nwoman, and girls may be seen with single threads of the same round\nthe head as an infallible specific for tic-douloureux.\n\n\n_Measles._--In the quarterly return of the marriages, births, and\ndeaths registered in the provinces, &c., in Ireland, published in\nOctober, 1878, we find the following extraordinary cure for measles,\nadministered with what results will be seen:--\"Sixty-three cases\nof measles appear on the medical relief register for past quarter,\nbut this does not represent a third of those affected, the medical\nofficers being only called in when the usual amount of local nostrums\nhad been tried without effect. Every case seen suffered from violent\ndiarrhoea, caused by the administration of a noxious compound called\n_crooke_. This consists of a mixture of porter, sulphur, and the\nexcrement of the sheep collected in the fields. Every unfortunate\nchild that showed any symptom of measles was compelled to drink large\nquantities of this mixture. All ordinary remedies failed to stop the\ndiarrhoea thus produced, in many cases the children nearly dying from\nexhaustion.\" Repulsive as this piece of folk-medicine is, yet it\nis only one of a most extensive class of the same kind, many being\nmost revolting. It is difficult to conceive how either ignorance\nor superstition could tolerate any practice of so senseless and\nindelicate a nature.\n\n\n_Paralysis._--One of the popular charms for this disease is the same\nas that used in the case of epilepsy, namely, a silver ring made from\nmoney solicited from a certain number of persons. Cowslips, too,\nhave been esteemed highly efficacious, and have on this account been\ntermed \"Herb\u00e6 Paralysis\" by medical writers. For the same reason they\nare called \"Palsyworts\" in many country places.\n\n\n_Rheumatism._--Professors of the healing art have advised the\nsufferer to carry about in his pocket the right fore-foot of a\nfemale hare, while others consider a potato equally efficacious. A\nCornish cure is to crawl under a bramble which has formed a second\nroot in the ground, or to drink water in which a thunder-stone has\nbeen boiled. There is, also, a strong belief that a _galvanic ring_,\nas it is called, worn on the finger will serve as an excellent\npreservative. \"A large number of persons,\" says Mr. Glyde in his\n\"Norfolk Garland,\" \"may be seen with a clumsy-looking silver ring,\nwhich has a piece of copper let into the inside, and this, though in\nconstant contact throughout, is supposed (aided by the moisture of\nthe hand) to keep up a gentle but continual galvanic current, and so\nalleviate rheumatism.\" A Sussex remedy is to place the bellows in\nthe sufferer's chair that he may lean against them, and so have his\nrheumatism charmed away.\n\n\n_Spasms._--The belief in the curative powers of the form of the cross\nstill holds its sway in the popular mind, and in the case of spasms,\nor that painful state of the feet in which they are said \"to sleep,\"\nit is used under an impression that it allays the pain.\n\n\n_Small-pox._--The curative properties attributed to some colours is\nillustrated by the treatment formerly employed in cases of small-pox.\nThus, red bed-coverings were thought to bring the pustules to the\nsurface of the body, and the patient was recommended to look at red\nsubstances. Purple dye, pomegranate seeds, or other red ingredients\nwere dissolved in his drink, with the idea that as red is the colour\nof the blood, so disorders of the blood system should be treated by\nred. The renowned English physician, John of Gaddesden, introduced\nthe practice into this country, and tried its efficacy on one of the\nsons of King Edward I., adding to his report, \"et est bona cura.\"\nFried mice are considered in some counties a good specific for this\ncomplaint, it being thought necessary by some that they should be\nfried alive.\n\n\n_Sprain._--Many of the charms practised in an accident of this kind\nare of a semi-religious character, and of a not very reverent form.\nThus, to cure a sprain, a thread called the \"wresting-thread\" is\ntied round the injured part, after which the following formula is\nrepeated:--\n\n    \"Our Saviour rade,\n    His fore-foot slade,\n      Our Saviour lighted down;\n    Sinew to sinew--joint to joint,\n    Blood to blood, and bone to bone,\n      Mend thou in God's name.\"\n\nThis incantation, which, it has been suggested, may have originated\nin some legend of Christ's life, is frequently mentioned in the witch\ntrials of the early part of the seventeenth century.\n\n\n_Sty._--To prevent or cure this disorder, known in some places as\n\"west,\" it is customary on the first sight of the new moon to seize\na black cat by the tail, and after pulling from it one hair, to rub\nthe tip nine times over the pustule. As this charm, however, is\noften attended with sundry severe scratches, a gold ring has been\nsubstituted, and is said to be equally beneficial. This superstition\nis alluded to by Beaumont and Fletcher, in the _Mad Lovers_ (Act v.,\nsc. 4):--\n\n        \"----I have a sty here, Chilax.\n    _Chil._ I have no gold to cure it, not a penny.\"\n\nEarrings are considered a good remedy for sore eyes; and in districts\nwhere the teasle is grown for use in the manufacture of broadcloth, a\npreservative against them is found in the water which collects in the\nhollow cups of that plant. Pure rain-water is reported to be another\ninfallible remedy. This must be carefully collected in a clean open\nvessel during the month of June, and if preserved in a bottle will,\nit is said, remain pure for any length of time.\n\n\n_Thrush._--There is a popular notion that a person must have this\ncomplaint once in his life, either at his birth or death. Norfolk\nnurses prefer to see it in babies, on the plea that it is healthy,\nand makes them feed more freely; but if it appears in a sick adult\nperson he is generally given over as past recovery. Some of the\nremedies for this disease are curious, as, for instance, a Cornish\none, which recommends the child to be taken fasting on three\nconsecutive mornings, \"to have its mouth blown into\" by a posthumous\nchild. In Devonshire the parent is advised to take three rushes from\nany running stream, and to pass them separately through the mouth of\nthe infant. Afterwards the rushes should be thrown into the stream\nagain, and as the current bears them away, so will the thrush, it\nis said, depart from the child. Should this prove ineffectual, the\nparent is recommended to capture the nearest duck that can be found,\nand to place its beak, wide open, within the mouth of the sufferer.\nAs the child inhales the cold breath of the duck, the disease, we are\ntold, will gradually disappear. A further charm consists in reading\nthe eighth Psalm over the child's head three times every day on three\ndays in the week for three successive weeks.\n\n\n_Toothache._--This common ailment, which produces so much discomfort,\nunfortunately rarely meets with a degree of sympathy proportionate\nto the agony it occasions, but has nevertheless been honoured with\nan extensive folk-lore; and the quaint remedies that superstitious\nfancy has suggested for its cure would occupy a small volume if\ntreated with anything like fulness. Selecting some of the best known,\nwe may mention one which, in point of efficacy, is considered by many\nas unsurpassed, namely, a tooth taken from the mouth of a corpse,\nand worn round the neck as an amulet. Occasionally a double-nut is\ncarried in the pocket for the same purpose. There is a belief, too,\nthat the possession of a Bible or a Prayer Book, with the following\nlegend written in it, is an effectual charm:--\"All glory, all glory,\nall glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.\nAs our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ was walking in the Garden\nof Gethsemane, He saw Peter weeping. He called him unto Him, and\nsaid, 'Peter, why weepest thou?' Peter answered and said, 'Lord,\nI am grievously tormented with pain--the pain of my tooth.' Our\nLord answered and said, 'If thou wilt believe in Me, and My words\nabide with thee, thou shalt never feel any more pain in thy tooth.'\nPeter said, 'Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.' In the\nname, &c., God grant M. N. ease from the pain in his tooth.\" These\ncharm formulas, which constitute an important element in folk-lore\nliterature, are still extensively used in this country to arrest or\ncure some bodily disease; and they are interesting as being in most\ncases modified forms of those used by our Anglo-Saxon ancestors.\n\n\n_Typhus Fever._--Even for so dangerous a disease as typhus fever,\nour peasantry do not hesitate to practise their own remedies. One\nconsists in applying the skirt of a sheep to the soles of the feet,\nand keeping it there for several hours, under a notion that this will\ndraw away the fever from the head. Some years ago a clergyman in\nNorfolk, whilst visiting a poor man suffering from this complaint,\nfound that his wife had placed the spleen of a cow on the soles of\nhis feet, having been assured that it was an efficacious remedy.\nThere is another story that the rector of a Norfolk parish was\nsolicited for the loan of the church plate to lay on the stomach of\na child, which was much swelled from some mesenteric disease, this\nbeing held to be an excellent remedy in such cases.\n\n\n_Warts._--These have been regarded as prognostications of good or\nbad luck according to their position on the body, those on the\nright hand foreboding riches, whereas one on the face is believed\nto indicate troubles of various kinds. It would be difficult to\nenumerate the many methods that have been adopted to charm or drive\nthem away, most persons disliking these ugly little excrescences, and\nwillingly resorting to any means, however eccentric, to lose them.\nAs in the case of so many other charms, most of those used also for\nthis complaint are of the nature of a sacrifice, the warts being\ntransferred to a substitute. Thus, the person is recommended to count\nhis warts, to wrap in a piece of paper a pebble for each, and then\nto throw the parcel away, in the hope that its unfortunate finder\nwill get them. Another remedy is to open the warts to the quick, and\nto rub them with the juice of a sour apple, which should afterwards\nbe buried, and as it decomposes the warts will die away. Some rub\nthe wart with eels' blood, and others believe in the efficacy of the\nashen tree. After picking each wart with a pin, they stick it into\nthe bark, and repeat this rhyme:--\n\n    \"Ashen tree, ashen tree,\n    Pray buy these warts of me.\"\n\nAn Irish servant's formula is to pass his hand over the warts, making\nthe sign of the cross, at the same time bidding them, in God's name,\ndepart and trouble him no more. He then gives some one a slip of\npaper, on which is written \"Jesus Christ, that died upon the cross,\nput my warts away,\" to drop by the roadside. It is thought that as it\nperishes, so, too, will the warts vanish. Another plan is to steal\na piece of raw meat, rub the warts with it, and throw it away, a\ncharm mentioned by Southey in \"The Doctor.\" Other remedies are the\njuice of ants, spiders' webs, pigs' blood, while tying a horse-hair\nround each wart is considered efficacious. Another method is to blow\non the warts nine times when the moon is full; and in some places\nboys take a new pin, cross the warts with it nine times, and cast it\nover the left shoulder. These, then, are some of the principal cures\nfor warts, most of them, as we have already said, belonging to the\ncategory of vicarious charms, which have at all times been one of\nthe favourite resources of poor mortals in their difficulties--such\ncharms being sacrifices made on the principle so widely adopted--_Qui\nfacit per alium facit per se_.\n\n\n_Wen._--The same notion of vicariousness enters into the cures\nrecommended for wens, one of the most efficacious being the touch\nof a dead man's hand. And Grose informs us how, in days gone by,\nchildren were brought by their nurses to be stroked with the\nhands of dead criminals, even whilst they were hanging on the\ngallows. In Northamptonshire numbers of sufferers were in the\nhabit of congregating round the gallows, in order to receive \"the\ndead-stroke,\" the notion being that as the hand of the man mouldered\naway, so the wen would by degrees decrease. In Gloucestershire an\nornamental necklace made of plaited hair from a horse's tail is\nthought to be a good remedy.\n\n\n_Whooping-Cough._--This common enemy of childhood has,\nfrom time immemorial, afforded ample opportunity to the\nsuperstitiously-inclined to devise sundry charms for its cure, of\nwhich the following are a few:--Passing the patient three times under\nthe belly and three times over the back of a donkey; or let the\nparent of the afflicted child catch a spider, and hold it over the\nhead of the child, repeating three times:--\n\n    \"Spider, as you waste away,\n    Whooping-cough no longer stay.\"\n\nThe spider must then be hung up in a bag over the mantlepiece, and\nwhen it has dried up the cough will have disappeared. There is a\nnotion in Cheshire that this complaint can be cured by holding a toad\nor frog for a few moments with its head within the child's mouth,\nwhereas in Norfolk the patient is advised either to drink some milk\nwhich a ferret has lapped, or to allow himself to be dragged three\ntimes round a gooseberry bush or bramble, and then three times again\nafter three days' interval. In Sussex the excrescence often found\non the briar-rose, and known as the \"Robin Redbreast's Cushion,\" is\nworn as an amulet; and in Suffolk, if several children in a family\nare taken ill, some of the hair of the oldest child is cut into small\npieces, put into some milk, and the mixture given to its brothers and\nsisters to drink. Some, again, procure hair from the dark cross on\nthe back of a donkey, and having placed it in a bag, hang it round\nthe child's neck. A Scotch remedy is to place a piece of red flannel\nround the patient's neck; the virtue residing, says Mr. Napier,\nnot in the flannel but in the red colour, red having been a colour\nsymbolical of triumph and victory over all enemies.\n\n\nAs may be seen, therefore, from the extensive use of charm-remedies\nin household medicine, the physician's province has been assailed\nby the widespread belief in such imaginary remedies. Indeed, those\nwho believe in the prevention and cure of disease by supernatural\nmeans are far more numerous than one would imagine, having their\nrepresentatives even among the higher classes. However much we may\nridicule the superstitious notions of our rural peasantry, or speak\nwith compassion of the African negro who carries about him some\namulet as a preservative against disease or as a safeguard against\nany danger that may befall him, yet we must admit that there is in\nEngland also a disposition to retain, with more or less veneration,\nthose old-world notions which in the time of our forefathers\nconstituted, as it were, so many articles of faith.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nMISCELLANEOUS HOUSEHOLD LORE.\n\n    Horse-shoes--Precautions against Witchcraft--The\n    Charmer--Second Sight--Ghosts--Dreams--Nightmare.\n\n\nThe belief in witchcraft, which in years gone by was so extensively\nentertained, has not yet died out, and in many of our country\nvillages it is regarded as one of those secret dangers to which every\nhome is more or less exposed. Hence we find various devices still\nresorted to for the purpose of counteracting the supposed hurtful\ninfluences of this baneful power, instances of which we subjoin.\nThus, according to a common idea, one of the best preservatives is a\nhorse-shoe nailed to the threshold. The reason of this is said to\nbe that Mars, the god of war, and the war-horse, was thought to be\nan enemy to Saturn, who, according to a medi\u00e6val idea, was the liege\nlord of witches. Thus, iron instruments of any kind have been said\nto keep witches at bay, a superstition which has been traced back\nto the time of the Romans, who drove nails into the walls of their\nhouses as an antidote against the plague. Mr. Napier says that he has\nseen the horse-shoe in large beer-shops in London, and was present\nin the parlour of one of these when an animated discussion arose as\nto whether it was most effective to have the shoe nailed behind the\ndoor or upon the first step of the door. Both positions had their\nadvocates, and instances of extraordinary luck were recounted as\nhaving attended them.\n\nIn Lancashire, where there are, perhaps, more superstitions connected\nwith this subject than in any other county of England, we find\nnumerous traditions relating to the evil actions of the so-called\nwitches in former years, many of which have become household stories\namong the peasants. At the present day the good housewife puts a hot\niron into the cream during the process of churning to expel the witch\nfrom the churn; and dough in preparation for the baker is protected\nby being marked with the figure of a cross. In some places a \"lucky\nstone\"--a stone with a hole through it--is worn as an amulet, and\ncrossed straws and knives laid on the floor are held in high repute.\nA belief, too, which was once very prevalent, and even still lingers\non, was that the power of evil ceased as soon as blood was drawn\nfrom the witch. An instance of this superstition occurred some\nyears ago in a Cornish village, when a man was summoned before the\nbench of magistrates and fined for having assaulted the plaintiff\nand scratched her with a pin. Not many years ago a young girl in\ndelicate health living in a village near Exeter was thought to have\nbeen bewitched by an old woman of that place, and, according to the\ngeneral opinion, the only chance of curing her was an application of\nthe witch's blood. Consequently the girl's friends laid wait one day\nfor the poor old woman, and scratching her with a nail till the blood\nflowed, collected the blood. This they carried home, and smeared\nthe girl with it in the hope that it would insure recovery. Curious\nto say, she finally got well, an event which, it is needless to\nadd, was attributed to this charm. It is still thought by many that\nwitchcraft, like hydrophobia, is contagious, and that the person, if\nonly slightly scratched by a witch, rapidly becomes one. The faculty\nof witchcraft is also said to be hereditary, and in some places\nfamilies are pointed out as possessing this peculiarity. Again,\nwitches are supposed to have the power of changing their shape and\nresuming it again at will, a notion which was very popular in past\nyears, the cat's and the toad's being the forms they were thought to\nassume. Hence the appearance of a toad on the doorstep is taken as\na certain sign that the house is under evil influence, and the poor\nreptile is often subjected to some cruel death. Cats, also, were\nformerly exposed to rough usage, one method being to enclose them\nwith a quantity of soot in wooden bottles suspended on a line. The\nperson who succeeded in beating out the bottom of the bottle as he\nrun under it and yet escaping the contents was the hero of the sport,\na practice to which Shakespeare alludes in _Much Ado about Nothing_,\nwhere Benedick says:--\n\n    \"Hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me.\"\n\nIt is only natural, too, that in _Macbeth_, Shakespeare, in his\ndescription of the witches, should have associated them with the cat,\ntheir recognised agent.\n\nAnother important character whose supernatural powers are still\ncredited is the \"charmer.\" She is generally an elderly woman of\ngood reputation, and supposed to be gifted with extraordinary\npowers, by means of which she performs wonderful feats of skill. By\nher incantations and mysterious ceremonies she stops blood, cures\nall manner of diseases, and is, in short, regarded as almost a\nmiracle-worker. At the same time, however, it must not be imagined\nthat she exercises her power gratuitously, as oftentimes her charges\nare very high, and it is only by patient saving that the poor can\naccumulate enough to satisfy her exorbitant demands. This kind of\nsuperstition has been already incidentally alluded to in the chapter\non \"Common Ailments;\" and it is one that still holds its ground in\nour country districts. These supposed charmers, however, do not\nalways make a trade of their art; for, on the contrary, it is\nsupposed by some of them that any offer of pecuniary remuneration\nwould break the spell, and render the charm of no avail.\n\nAgain, there is still an extensive belief in \"second sight,\" certain\npersons being thought to possess the faculty of peeping into\nfuturity, and revealing future events to their fellow-creatures. Many\nof the Highlanders lay claim to this power, which was called by the\nancient Gaels \"shadow-sight.\"\n\n    \"Nor less availed his optic sleight,\n    And Scottish gift of second-sight.\"\n\nSometimes, says Mr. Napier, the person fell into a trance, \"in\nwhich state he saw visions; at other times the visions were seen\nwithout the trance condition. Should the seer see in a vision a\ncertain person dressed in a shroud, this betokened that the death\nof that person would surely take place within a year. Should such a\nvision be seen in the morning, the person seen would die before that\nevening; should such a vision be seen in the afternoon, the person\nseen would die before next night; but if the vision were seen late\nin the evening, there was no particular time of death intimated,\nfurther than that it would take place within the year. Again, if the\nshroud did not cover the whole body, the fulfilment of the vision\nwas at a great distance. If the vision were that of a man with a\nwoman standing at his left hand, then that woman would be that man's\nwife, although they may both at the time of the vision be married\nto others.\" The case is related of a man living near Blackpool who\nforetold death and evil events from his visions. Men of superior\nability were credulous enough to visit him, and to give implicit\nfaith to his marvellous stories.\n\nA species of superstition that may be said to reign supreme in almost\nevery home is the belief in ghosts, there being few households that\ndo not contain those who believe in ghostly visitants. In this\nrespect, therefore, we are not superior to our less instructed\nforefathers whose experiences have been transmitted to us in many of\nthose weird and thrilling stories which are to be found recorded in\nmany of our old county histories. Indeed, there is scarcely a village\nin England that does not boast of the proud distinction of having its\nhaunted house or spot. Hence as nightfall approaches with its sombre\nhues of darkness, few persons can be found bold enough to visit such\nmysterious localities, for--\n\n    \"Grey superstition's whisper dread,\n    Debars the spot to vulgar tread.\"\n\nAlthough many of these grotesque stories which have been from time\nto time associated with certain old houses are simply legendary\nand destitute of any truth, yet it cannot be denied that while\noccasionally causing fear even to the strong-minded they have acted\nmost injuriously upon the credulous and superstitious. According to\nan old fancy, ghosts of every description vanish at cock-crow, in\nallusion to which Shakespeare makes the ghost of Hamlet's father\nvanish at this season:--\n\n    \"It faded on the crowing of the cock.\"\n\nOne night, however, in the year has been said to be entirely free\nfrom spiritual manifestations of every kind--namely Christmas Eve--an\nidea to which Marcellus refers, who, speaking of the ghost, says:--\n\n    \"Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes\n    Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,\n    The bird of dawning singeth all night long,\n    And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;\n    The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,\n    No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,\n    So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.\"\n\nBut on other days of the year, every noise at night, however trivial,\nwhich cannot be satisfactorily explained by inquisitive minds, is\nthought by the superstitious to indicate that spirits are walking\nabroad; such illogical persons forgetting how in the stillness of\nthe night sounds, which at other times would pass unnoticed, attract\nattention, and thus assume an exaggerated importance. In this way the\nwhistling of the wind, the creaking of the floor, and a host of other\nnatural noises have in the deceptive hours of midnight terrified\ntheir nervous victim, and filled the overwrought fancy with the most\nalarming delusions.\n\nAn amusing volume might be written showing how most of the ghost\nstories connected with so-called haunted houses have arisen. Thus, as\nMrs. Latham points out in her \"West Sussex Superstitions,\" there is\nvery little doubt but that the ghosts formerly seen wandering in blue\nflames, near lonely houses on the coast, \"were of an illicit class\nof spirits, raised by the smugglers in order to alarm and drive all\nothers but their accomplices from their haunts.\" On one occasion, for\ninstance, the unearthly noises heard night after night in a house at\nRottingdean caused such alarm among the servants, that they all gave\nwarning, when one night the noises ceased, and soon afterwards a gang\nof smugglers who had fallen into the hands of the police confessed\nto having made a secret passage from the beach close by the house,\nand said that, wishing to induce the occupiers to abandon it, they\nhad been in the habit of rolling at the dead of night tub after tub\nof spirits up the passage, and so caused it to be reported that the\nplace was haunted.\n\nGhosts are said to be especially fond of walking abroad on certain\nnights, the chief of these being St. Mark's Eve, Midsummer Eve, and\nHallowe'en. Hence various methods have been resorted to for the\npurpose of invoking them with a view of gaining an insight into\nfuturity, love-sick maidens, as we have said, seizing these golden\nopportunities for gaining information about their absent lovers.\nIt must not be supposed, too, that apparitions are confined to the\nspirits of the departed, as throughout the country there are the most\neccentric traditions of headless animals having been seen at sundry\ntimes rushing madly about at night-time.\n\nLeaving, however, the subject of ghosts, we find in the next place\nan extensive folk-lore associated with dreams. We have already\nincidentally alluded to the many divinations practised for the sake\nof acquiring information by means of them on certain subjects, but\nwe may further note that dreams are by some supposed occasionally\nto intimate not only future events, but things which are actually\nhappening at a distance. Hence a \"Dictionary of Dreams\" has been\nframed whereby the inquirer, if he be credulously disposed, can learn\nthe meaning and signification of any particular dream which he may\nrecollect. Thus, it is said that to dream of death denotes happiness\nand long life, but to dream of gathering a nosegay is unlucky,\nsignifying that our best and fairest hopes shall wither away like\nflowers in a nosegay. Dreaming about balls, dances, &c., indicates\ncoming good fortune; and thus we are told that those--\n\n    \"Who dream of being at a ball\n      No cause have they for fear;\n    For soon will they united be\n      To those they hold most dear.\"\n\nTo give one further illustration, to dream that one is walking in\na garden, and that the trees are bare and fruitless, is a very bad\nomen, being said to indicate that one's friends will either become\npoor or forsake one. If the garden, on the other hand, should be in\nbloom, it is a propitious sign. Portents of approaching death are\nsaid to be received through dreams; and we will quote an example of\nthis from Mr. Henderson, which happened, it is affirmed, some years\nago in the family of an Irish bishop:--\"A little boy came down-stairs\none morning, saying, 'Oh, mamma, I have had such a nice dream.\nSomebody gave me such a pretty box, and I am sure it was for me, for\nthere was my name on it. Look, it was just like this;' and, taking up\na slate and pencil, the child drew the shape of a coffin. The parents\ngazed at one another in alarm, not lessened by the gambols of the\nchild, who frolicked about in high health and spirits. The father\nwas obliged to go out that morning, but he begged the mother to keep\nthe child in her sight through the day. She did so, till, while she\nwas dressing to go out in her carriage, the little boy slipped away\nto the stables, where he begged the coachman to take him by his side\nwhile he drove to the house door, a thing he had often done before.\nOn this occasion, however, the horses were restive, the driver lost\ncontrol over them, and the child was flung off and killed on the\nspot.\" Shylock, it may be remembered, in the _Merchant of Venice_,\nreferring to his dream, says:--\n\n    \"There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,\n    For I did dream of money-bags to-night.\"\n\nMany curious charms are still practised to ward off that unpleasant\nsensation popularly known as nightmare, which both in this and other\ncountries has given rise to a variety of superstitions. According\nto one old notion, this disagreeable feeling was produced by some\nfairy, under a disguised form, visiting the person, and worrying\nhim while asleep by certain mischievous pranks. Thus, in Germany,\nthe nightmare is said to appear at times in the shape of a mouse, a\nweasel, or a toad, and occasionally, too, in the form of a cat. One\nGerman story relates how a joiner was, night by night, much plagued\nwith the nightmare, when he at last saw it steal into his room\nabout midnight in the form of a cat. Having at once stopped up the\nhole through which the cat had entered, he lost no time in seizing\nthe animal and nailing it by one paw to the ground. Next morning,\nhowever, much to his horror and surprise, he discovered a handsome\nyoung lady with a nail driven through her hand. He accordingly\nmarried her, but one day he uncovered the hole which he had stopped\nup, whereupon she instantly escaped through it in the shape of a cat,\nand never returned. There are numerous stories of a similar kind, in\nmost cases the sequel being the same. Among the charms still in use\nas a preservative against nightmare may be mentioned a stone with a\nnatural hole in it hung over the sleeper, or a knife laid under the\nfoot of the bedstead, both being considered of equal efficacy. In\nLancashire the peasantry believe that nightmare appears in the form\nof a dog, and they try to counteract its influence by placing their\nshoes under the bed with the toe upwards, on retiring to rest. Not\nvery long ago, too, at the West Riding Court at Bradford, in a case\nof a husband and wife who had quarrelled, the woman stated that the\nreason why she kept a coal-rake in her bedroom was that she suffered\nfrom nightmare, and had been informed that the rake would keep it\naway. The best charm after all, however, for this common disorder is\nto be careful that one's digestive organs are not upset by incautious\nsuppers eaten just before retiring to rest.\n\nIt only remains for us, in conclusion, to add once more that the\npreceding pages are not intended to be by any means exhaustive,\nour object having been to give a brief and general survey of that\nextensive folk-lore which has, in the course of years, woven itself\naround the affairs of home-life. However much this may be ridiculed\non the plea of its being the outcome of credulous belief, yet it\nconstitutes an important element in our social life, which the\nhistorian in years to come will doubtless use when he studies the\ncharacter of the English people in this and bygone centuries.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n    Abgarus, Letter of Christ to, 7\n\n    Ague, Charms against, 149\n\n    Apes, Leading, 43\n\n    Apple-peel as a love-test, 30\n\n    Apple-tree blooming twice, a sign of Death, 52\n\n    Apron, Superstitions about, 84\n\n    Articles of Dress, 81\n\n    \"Arval\" and \"Arval Bread,\" 64\n\n    Aryan Myths and Legends, 16\n\n    Astrology, Divination by, 144\n\n    Auguries gathered from Shoes, 89\n\n\n    Baby and Kitten, 8\n\n    Banns, Superstitions about putting up, 43\n\n    Baptism, how rendered propitious in Scotland, 19\n\n    ---- Effect of, on Children, 18\n\n    Barring out, 27\n\n    ---- Addison's conduct at, 27\n\n    Beards, Dyeing of, 76\n\n    Bed, Folk-lore about, 118\n\n    ---- Position of, 119\n\n    Bellows, Superstition about, 120, 160\n\n    Bent piece of money, 133\n\n    Best man's prize, 46\n\n    Bible and Key, 135\n\n    Birds, Presages of Death by, 51\n\n    Birth and Infancy, Folk-lore relating to, 2\n\n    \"Bishopping,\" good for rheumatism, 21\n\n    Bishop's Left Hand, Superstition respecting, 20\n\n    Biting the Glove, 95\n\n    \"Black Ox\" in Scotland, 51\n\n    Blade-bone, Divination by, 139\n\n    Bleeding of the Nose, 68, 150\n\n    ---- as a sign of love, 68\n\n    Blue Vein across Nose, 69\n\n    Brake or Fern, Divination by, 31\n\n    Bread, Superstitions about, 107\n\n    Breaking Egg-shells, 108\n\n    Bride and Looking-glass, 113\n\n    ---- Sun shining on, 40\n\n    Brides of Elizabethan Dramas, 39\n\n    Bride's Stockings, 86\n\n    Broom left in Room after Sweeping, 126\n\n    Burial of Dead among Greeks, 63\n\n    \"Burial without the Sanctuary,\" 62\n\n    Burn or Scald, 151\n\n    Burning Hair, Omens from, 74\n\n    ---- tail of Coat, &c., 84\n\n    Butter-dock, Scattering Seeds of, 35\n\n\n    C\u00e6na feralis of Romans, 64\n\n    Candle in Ghost's Hand, 54\n\n    Candles, Omens from, 130\n\n    Carbuncle in Ring, 96\n\n    Cards, Divination by, 144\n\n    Carrying the Dead with the Sun, 61\n\n    Casting Lot, Divination by, 146\n\n    Cat, Sneezing of, 123\n\n    Cats and Toads, Form of, assumed by Witches, 177\n\n    ---- Sucking Child's Breath, 13\n\n    Caul, Superstition about, 3, 4\n\n    ---- Hood's Ballad about, 3\n\n    ---- Price paid for, 4\n\n    Chairs, Superstitions about, 111, 118\n\n    Changelings, Superstitions about, 4\n\n    ---- Luther's remarks on, 4\n\n    Character of Book, 180\n\n    Charm-remedies, 148\n\n    Charmer, her power, 172\n\n    Charms against changing Children, 5\n\n    ---- to detect Changelings, 5\n\n    ---- against stumbling, 124\n\n    Cheeks, Itching of, 77\n\n    Cheese given by Bride, 42\n\n    Child Dying unchristened, 18\n\n    Childhood's Folk-lore, 16\n\n    \"Chime Hours,\" Birth at, 2\n\n    Chiromancy, or Palmistry, 140\n\n    Christmas Eve, Divinations on, 34\n\n    Christ's College, Cambridge, Fellowships at, 103\n\n    Churchyard Lore, 61\n\n    Cinderella, a Nature-myth, 17\n\n    \"Clock-falling,\" 117\n\n    ---- striking thirteen, 54\n\n    ---- losing stroke, 55\n\n    Clothes of the Dead, 83\n\n    Cock-crowing at Night, 52\n\n    \"Connoisseur,\" Love-tests in, 29\n\n    Corn in Marriage Ceremony, 44\n\n    \"Corpse-candles\" in Wales, 54\n\n    Counting one's Gains, 133\n\n    Covering Looking-glass at Death, 113\n\n    Cramp, Charms against, 151\n\n    \"Creeling\" the Bridegroom in Scotland, 48\n\n    Crockery, Breaking of, 127\n\n    Cross on Dough, 170\n\n    Crowing Hen, 125\n\n    ---- of a Cock, 138\n\n    Crying at Baptism, 19\n\n    ---- Anecdote regarding, 20\n\n    ---- at Wedding, 40\n\n    Cuckoo's Notes, 32\n\n    ---- First Note heard in Bed, Ominous of Illness or Death, 52\n\n    \"Cunning Man,\" 121\n\n    Curious Marriage Customs, 47\n\n    Cutting the Nails, 80\n\n\n    Dactylomancy, or Divination by Rings, 98\n\n    Dandelion, Divination by, 31\n\n    Days of Week, Sneezing on, 123\n\n    Dead Children cannot rest if Mothers fret for them, 15\n\n    ---- Hand, Rubbing with, 78\n\n    ---- Anecdotes respecting, 78\n\n    ---- Man's Hand at Bryn Hall, Lancashire, 79\n\n    Death and Burial, Superstition respecting, 48\n\n    ---- Announced by the Dying, 55\n\n    ---- Bell in Scotland, 67\n\n    ---- Anecdote of Hogg about, 67\n\n    Dee, Dr., and Magic Mirror, 114\n\n    Destiny of Children, how augured in Scotland, 19\n\n    Diamond, potent against Poison, 97\n\n    \"Dipping,\" in Bible, 136\n\n    Divination among Children, 26\n\n    ---- by Pins, 100\n\n    ---- of Sex of unborn Infant, 3\n\n    Dog, Howling of, at Death, how caused, 50\n\n    Doorstep, Lifting Bride over, 42\n\n    Drawing Blood from Witch, 171\n\n    Dreams, What denoted by, 177\n\n    Dutch Parson and Will-o'-the-Wisp, 18\n\n    \"Dying Hard,\" 58\n\n\n    Ears, Tingling of, 66\n\n    Easter Day, New Clothes on, 82\n\n    Ecclesiastical Dignity and Gloves, Association of, 94\n\n    Eggs, Divination by, 146\n\n    ---- Superstitions about, 108\n\n    Elder Sister Dancing in Hog's trough at younger Sister's Marriage, 43\n\n    Emerald, and Purity of Thought, 97\n\n    Epilepsy, Remedies for, 152\n\n    Erysipelas, Amulets against, 153\n\n    Evil Eye, 6\n\n    ---- in \"Satires of Persius,\" 6\n\n    ---- Lancashire belief about, 6\n\n    Exeter Lammas Fair, 94\n\n    Eye, Omens relating to, 70\n\n    \"Eye-biting\" in Ireland, 7\n\n    Eye-brows, Meeting of, 70\n\n    Eyes, Itching of, 70\n\n\n    Face, or Look-divination, 142\n\n    Fair, Opening of, announced by hanging out Glove, 94\n\n    Fairy-tales, What embodied in, 16\n\n    Feet, Folk-lore about, 80\n\n    ---- Itching of, 80\n\n    \"Fetch-lights,\" 54\n\n    Finger-nails, Superstitions about, 10\n\n    ---- in Germany, 10\n\n    ---- in Northumberland, 11\n\n    ---- in Scotland, 11\n\n    Fire, Omens and Portents of, 129\n\n    First Teeth, Precautions taken when they come out, 10\n\n    ---- Tooth in Upper Jaw, 8\n\n    Fits, Charms against, 154\n\n    Flat Feet and Bad Temper, 80\n\n    Flinging the Stocking, 85\n\n    Foot going to Sleep, 81\n\n    Fretting Baby, 12\n\n    Friday, an Unlucky Day, 128\n\n    ---- Good for Love-omens, 35\n\n    ---- Inauspicious for Marrying, 38\n\n    ---- Lucky for Marrying in Scotland, 39\n\n    Funeral Feasts, 64\n\n    ---- Meeting of, by Bride or Bridegroom, 40\n\n    ---- Meeting a, 65\n\n    ---- of Unmarried Girl, Custom at, 64\n\n    Furniture Omens, 111\n\n\n    Garters, Superstitions about, 86\n\n    ---- Tying Knots in, 30\n\n    Gathering Rose on Midsummer Eve, 30\n\n    Getting out of Bed the wrong way, 119\n\n    Ghosts, Belief in, 174\n\n    ---- do not appear on Christmas Eve, 175\n\n    ---- Favourite Days for appearance of, 176\n\n    ---- seen by Animals, 50\n\n    Gloucester, Duke of, Born with Teeth, 9\n\n    Glove, Use of, at Fairs, 95\n\n    Glove-money, 93\n\n    Gloves, Superstitions about, 92\n\n    Going in at one Door and out at another at Marriage, 41\n\n    \"Going up\" at Birth, 8\n\n    Gout, Charms against, 155\n\n    \"Grave Scab,\" 14\n\n    ---- Remedy for, 14\n\n    Graves, Position of, 63\n\n    Green Yarrow, 31\n\n    Grounds at bottom of Tea-cup, 110\n\n\n    Hair, Superstitions respecting, 72\n\n    ---- Omens from Growth of, 74\n\n    ---- Sudden Loss of, 74\n\n    Hallowe'en, Divination on, 34\n\n    Hands, Emblematic of Character, 77\n\n    ---- Itching of, 77\n\n    Headache, Cures for, 155\n\n    Headless Animals, 176\n\n    Helping to Salt, 104\n\n    Hen cackling at Wedding, 42\n\n    Hollow Cinder a Coffin, 129\n\n    Home-life, Superstitions relating to, 131\n\n    Horoscope in Germany, 143\n\n    Horse-shoes as Amulets, 169\n\n    Hot Iron in Cream, 170\n\n    Household Superstitions, 120\n\n    Howling of a Dog at Night indicative of Death, 49\n\n    Human Body, Superstitions about, 65\n\n    Hydrophobia, Cures for, 156\n\n    Hysteria, Remedies for, 158\n\n\n    Idiots cannot sneeze, 123\n\n    Invalid asking for Pigeons, 52\n\n    Itching of the Nose, 68\n\n\n    \"Jack-a-Dandy,\" 25\n\n    Jackdaw, Omen of Death, 52\n\n    Jacob's Prophecies, 57\n\n    Jaundice, Remedies for, 158\n\n    Jewish Customs respecting Shoes, 90\n\n    June popular for marrying, 37\n\n\n    Keepsake Rings, Colours in, 93\n\n    Knife, Folk-lore relating to, 105\n\n    ----, Giving away, unlucky, 106\n\n    ----, Finding, unlucky, 106\n\n\n    Lady-bird, Divination by, 31\n\n    Lameness, Cure for, 158\n\n    Last Day of Year, Marrying on, in Scotland, 39\n\n    Leap-year, Birth in, 3\n\n    Lending Knife to cut Cake, 26\n\n    Long Life, how to secure, 12\n\n    Looking-glass, Fancies about, 112\n\n    Love and Courtship, 28\n\n    Love-tests, 28\n\n    ----, whence derived, 29\n\n    \"Luck of Edenhall,\" 116\n\n    \"Lucky Stone\" as Amulet, 170\n\n    Lucky Stones, 7\n\n    Lumbago, Cure for, 159\n\n\n    Magicians and Looking-glasses, 114\n\n    Magpie using Hair, 74\n\n    Maiden Assize, Gloves at, 93\n\n    Making \"the Deazil,\" 61\n\n    \"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,\" 21\n\n    May Marriages unlucky, 36\n\n    Measles, Cure for, 159\n\n    Medicated Rings, 97\n\n    Medicine Bottles, selling, 134\n\n    Melted Lead, Divination by, 146\n\n    Midsummer Eve, Practices on, 33\n\n    Misfortune not to die in one's Bed, 53\n\n    Moist and dry Hands, 78\n\n    Moles, Omens drawn from, 66\n\n    Money and the New Moon, 132\n\n\n    Nails, Signification of, 77\n\n    Necklace of Peony Beads, 10\n\n    New Clothes, Superstitions relating to, 82\n\n    ---- Moon in Looking-glass, 113\n\n    Nicking Schoolmaster's Cane, 26\n\n    Nightmare, Charms against, 178\n\n    ----, Curious Stories about, 179\n\n    North Side of Church, Burial in, 63\n\n    Nose, Omens relating to, 68\n\n    \"Nose out of Joint,\" and \"Paying through Nose,\" 69\n\n    Number Thirteen, Superstitions about, 100, 101\n\n    \"Nutcrack-night,\" 34\n\n    Nuts and Apples, Divination by, 31\n\n\n    Odd Numbers, Antipathy to, in School Games, 25\n\n    Omens associated with Rings, 97\n\n    ---- of approaching Death, 49\n\n    Onymancy, or Divination by the Finger-nails, 141\n\n    Opal Ring, unlucky to wear, 97\n\n    Open Grave at Wedding, 41\n\n    \"Over-looking,\" Superstitions about, 71\n\n    Overturning Chair, 111\n\n    Ovid on June Marriages, 38\n\n    Ox or Cow breaking into Garden, Omen of Death, 51\n\n    ----, Anecdote respecting, 51\n\n\n    Palmistry, or Divination by the Hands, 78\n\n    Paralysis, Charms for, 160\n\n    \"Parson's Penny\" in Wales, 62\n\n    Picking Broom in Bloom unlucky, 52\n\n    ----, Anecdote respecting, 53\n\n    Pigeons' Feathers in Bed, 58\n\n    ---- Heart, Divination by, 34\n\n    Pin in Candle, 131\n\n    Pins, Superstitions about, 98\n\n    ---- in Witchcraft and Sorcery, 99\n\n    ----, Robbing Bride of, 41\n\n    Plants and Petticoats, 85\n\n    ---- in Love-charms, 30\n\n    ----, Omens of Death derived from, 52\n\n    Poker across Bars of Grate, 129\n\n    Popular Divinations, 134\n\n    Pork, eating Marrow of, 109\n\n    Position of Grave, 63\n\n    Prayers of Poor in Lincolnshire, 22\n\n    ----, Origin of, 23\n\n    ---- Taught by poor People to their Children, 21\n\n    Prevalence of Superstitions, 122\n\n    Prophesying before Death, 57\n\n    Puritans and Wedding-ring, 46\n\n\n    Rain, Rhymes about, 24\n\n    Rainbow, crossing out, 24\n\n    \"Rattley-bags,\" 25\n\n    Rebuilding House fatal, 54\n\n    Red Hair and Beard, 75\n\n    Reversing Articles of Dress, 83\n\n    Rheumatism and Shoes, 90\n\n    ----, Charms against, 160\n\n    Rhymes used by Children, 23\n\n    Rings, Legendary Lore of, 95\n\n    ---- as Talismans, 96\n\n    ---- of dead Friend, 84\n\n    Rocking empty Cradle, 9\n\n    Rubbing Shoulders with Bride or Bridegroom, 41\n\n    Rural Bridegroom and Gloves, 95\n\n\n    St. Valentine's Day, 32\n\n    ----, Divination on, in Devonshire, 33\n\n    Salt on Breast of Corpse, 60\n\n    Salt-spilling, Superstitions about, 103\n\n    Seasons admitting or prohibiting Matrimony, 38\n\n    Second Sight, 173\n\n    Selling Eggs after dark, 108\n\n    \"Shaping\" of Wedding Dress for Divination, 46\n\n    Shift, Divination by, 30\n\n    Shivering as a portent, 131\n\n    Shoeing-horn and Shakespeare, 91\n\n    Shoe-throwing, 87\n\n    ---- at Weddings, 46\n\n    Shoes, Rhymes on, 90\n\n    ----, Superstitions about, 87\n\n    Shortbread at Wedding, 45\n\n    Sieve and Shears, 137\n\n    \"Sin-eaters\" in Scotland, 60\n\n    Sitting above and below the Salt, 105\n\n    ---- cross-legged, 80\n\n    Sleeping on Bones, 8\n\n    Small-pox, Remedies for, 161\n\n    Smith, Mr. G., the Assyriologist, and Dr. Delitzsch, 55\n\n    Snail, Divination by, 32\n\n    Snails, Rhymes about, 25\n\n    Sneezing and Sneezers, 122\n\n    Snow, Rhymes about, 24\n\n    _Sortes Virgilian\u00e6_, 136\n\n    Sowing Hempseed, 29\n\n    \"Spade-money\" in Wales, 62\n\n    Spark in Candle, 130\n\n    Spasms, Cure for, 160\n\n    Spatulamancia, 139\n\n    Specks on the Nails, 79\n\n    Speedwell and Snowdrop, 53\n\n    Spider, Superstitions about, 126\n\n    Spitting on Money, 132\n\n    Sprains, Charms for, 161\n\n    Staff, Divination by, 146\n\n    Standing in another's Shoes, 91\n\n    ---- on end, of Hair, 73\n\n    Stillborn Children, Graves of, 15\n\n    Stockings, Superstitions about, 85\n\n    Stolen Kisses and Gloves, 93\n\n    Stopping House Clock at Death, 117\n\n    Stumbling Up-stairs, 123\n\n    ---- on Threshold, 124\n\n    ---- at Grave, 124\n\n    Sty, Prevention and Cure of, 162\n\n    Sudden whitening of Hair, 73\n\n    Sunday good Day to marry, 38\n\n    ---- Lucky for Birth, 2\n\n    Superstitions about Marriage, 42\n\n    ----, value of, 1\n\n    ----, in what interesting, 1\n\n    ----, whence sprung, 1\n\n    Sussex Superstition about Children born on Sunday, 2\n\n    Sweeping, Superstitions about, 126\n\n    Symbolism of shoes, 88\n\n\n    Table Superstitions, 100\n\n    Tea-leaves, Divination by, 109\n\n    Tea-stalks, Divination by, 147\n\n    Teeth, Superstitions respecting, 72\n\n    Thirteen at Table, 101, 102\n\n    Three Magpies sign of a Wedding, 32\n\n    Thrush, Charm against, 163\n\n    Toothache, Charms against, 163\n\n    Touching Corpse among Poor, 60\n\n    Turning Back after starting, 132\n\n    Turquoise in Ring, 96\n\n    Typhus Fever, Remedies for, 165\n\n\n    \"Unchristened Ground,\" 14\n\n    \"Universal Fortune-teller,\" 2\n\n    Unmarried Person between Man and Wife, 111\n\n\n    Venetian Glass, Breaking of, by poisoned Draught, 116\n\n    Virgin Mary at Birth of John the Baptist, 8\n\n\n    Warts, Charms against, 165, 166\n\n    Watching dead Body, 61\n\n    Water used at Baptism, 20\n\n    Weakly Infants, how treated in Cornwall, 12\n\n    Wearing Looking-glasses, 115\n\n    Weather, Charms to influence, 23\n\n    Weather-lore from Fires, 129\n\n    Wedding-cake, 44\n\n    Wedding-ring, Divination by, 45\n\n    ---- placed in Wedding-cake, 45\n\n    ---- hired in Ireland, 47\n\n    ----, Notions about, 47\n\n    Wens, Cures for, 167\n\n    Whistling Woman, 125\n\n    White Gloves and Death of the Unmarried, 94\n\n    Whitsuntide, new Clothes on, 82\n\n    Whooping-cough, Cures for, 167\n\n    Will-o'-the-Wisp, Omen of Death, 53\n\n    William I. at Hastings, 83\n\n    Wine, &c., drank at Funerals, 64\n\n    \"Wise Woman,\" 121\n\n    \"Wishing-bone\" of Fowl, 109\n\n    Witch taking form of Cat, 14\n\n    Witchcraft, Divination in, 138\n\n    ---- Precautions against, 169\n\n    Worthing, case of Dog howling at, 49\n\n    \"Wrong Side of Church,\" 62\n\n\n    Yellow Hair and Beard, 75\n\n    Yew, at Christmas, 53\n\n    Young, Lieutenant, Announcement of Brother's Death to, 56\n\n\n    Zadkiel's Almanack, 142\n\n\nCASSELL, PETTER, GALPIN & CO., BELLE SAUVAGE WORKS, LONDON, E.C.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n_Underscores_ surround italicized text.\n\nObvious typographical errors were repaired. Valid archaic spellings\nwere retained.\n\nThe entry for \"INDEX,\" at the bottom of the Contents page, did not\nappear in the original. It has been added for the convenience of the\nreader.","title":"Domestic folk-lore","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":50058}