{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66116/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66116","id":"gutenberg_66116","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66116","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Folklore -- Greece","Greece -- Religion","Mythology, Greek"],"text":"Transcriber's Note\n\n\nSuperscript text is indicated by caret signs, e.g. M^t Pelion. The text\nincludes diacritics which may not display well in all software, e.g. the\ninverted breve in \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9\u032f\u03b1.\n\n\n\n\n  MODERN GREEK FOLKLORE\n\n  AND\n\n  ANCIENT GREEK RELIGION\n\n\n\n\n  CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS\n  London: FETTER LANE, E.C.\n  C. F. CLAY, MANAGER\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  Edinburgh: 100, PRINCES STREET\n\n  Berlin: A. ASHER AND CO.\n\n  Leipzig: F. A. BROCKHAUS\n\n  New York: G. P. PUTNAM\u2019S SONS\n\n  Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD.\n\n\n  _All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\n  MODERN GREEK FOLKLORE\n\n  AND\n\n  ANCIENT GREEK RELIGION\n\n  A STUDY IN SURVIVALS\n\n  BY\n\n  JOHN CUTHBERT LAWSON, M.A.\n\n  FELLOW AND LECTURER OF PEMBROKE COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,\n  FORMERLY CRAVEN STUDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY\n\n  Cambridge:\n  at the University Press\n  1910\n\n\n\n\n  Cambridge:\n  PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A.\n  AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS\n\n\n\n\n  PIIS MANIBUS\n\n  ROBERTI ALEXANDRI NEIL\n\n  LABORUM ADHORTANTE IPSO SUSCEPTORUM\n  HUNC DEDICAVI FRUCTUM.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThis book is the outcome of work undertaken in Greece during my two\nyears\u2019 tenure of the Craven Studentship from 1898 to 1900. It is\ntherefore my first duty gratefully to commemorate John, Lord Craven,\nto whose benefactions of two and a half centuries ago I owed my\nopportunity for research.\n\nThe scheme of work originally proposed was the investigation of the\ncustoms and superstitions of modern Greece in their possible bearing\nupon the life and thought of ancient Greece; and to the Managers of the\nCraven Fund at that time, with whom was associated Mr R. A. Neil of\nPembroke College to whose memory I have dedicated this book, I render\nhearty thanks for their willingness to encourage a venture new in\ndirection, vague in scope, and possibly void of result.\n\nThe course of research proposed was one which required as the first\ncondition of any success considerable readiness in speaking and\nunderstanding the popular language, and to the attainment of this my\nfirst few months were necessarily devoted. When once the ear has become\naccustomed to the modern pronunciation, a knowledge of ancient Greek\nmakes for rapid progress; and some three or four months spent chiefly\nin the _caf\u00e9s_ of small provincial towns rendered me fairly proficient\nin ordinary conversation. Subsequent practice enabled me also to follow\nconversations not intended for my ear; and on more than one occasion\nI obtained from the talk of peasants thus overheard information which\nthey might have been chary of imparting to a stranger.\n\nThe time at my disposal however, after I had sufficiently mastered\nthe language, would have been far too short to allow of any complete\nenquiry into the beliefs and customs of the country, had it not been\nfor the existence of two books, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen und das\nHellenische Alterthum_ by Bernhard Schmidt, and \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd by Professor Polites of Athens University, which at\nonce supplied me with a working knowledge of the subject which I was\nstudying and suggested certain directions in which further research\nmight profitably be pursued. My debt to these two books is repeatedly\nacknowledged in the following pages; and if I have given references to\nSchmidt\u2019s work more frequently than to that of Polites, my reason is\nnot that I owe less to the latter, but merely that the former is more\ngenerally accessible.\n\nIn pursuit of my task I followed no special system. I have known of\nthose who professed to obtain a complete knowledge of the folklore of\na given village in the course of a few hours\u2019 visit, and whose method\nwas to provide themselves with an introduction to the schoolmaster,\nwho would generally be not even a native of the place, and to read\nout to him a formidable _questionnaire_, in the charitable and\nmisplaced expectation that the answers given would be prompted not by\ncourtesy and loquacity, which are the attributes of most Greeks, but\nby veracity, which is the attribute of few. The formal interview with\npaper and pencil is in my opinion a mistake. The \u2018educated\u2019 Greek whose\npose is to despise the traditions of the common-folk will discourse\nupon them no less tediously than inaccurately for the sake of having\nhis vapourings put on record; but the peasant who honestly believes the\nsuperstitions and scrupulously observes the customs of which he may\nhappen to speak is silenced at once by the sight of a note-book. Apart\nhowever from this objection to being interviewed, the countryfolk are\nin general communicative enough. They do not indeed expect to be plied\nwith questions until their own curiosity concerning the new-comer has\nbeen satisfied, and even then any questions on uncanny subjects must\nbe discreetly introduced. But it is no difficult matter to start some\nsuitable topic. A wedding, a funeral, or some local _f\u00eate_ perhaps\nis in progress, and your host is eager to have the distinction of\nescorting you to it and explaining all the customs appropriate to the\noccasion. You have been taken to see the village-church, and some\noffering there dedicated, to which you call attention, elicits the\nstory of some supernatural \u2018seizure\u2019 and miraculous cure. You express a\ndesire to visit some cave which you have observed in the mountain-side,\nand the dissuasion and excuses which follow form the prelude to an\naccount of the fearful beings by whom it is haunted. Your guide crosses\nhimself or spits before fording a stream, and you enquire, once\nsafely across, what is the particular danger at this spot. Your mule\nperhaps rolls with your baggage in the same stream, and the muleteer\u2019s\nimprecations suggest luridly novel conceptions of the future life.\n\nMuch also may be effected by playing upon patriotism or vanity or,\nlet it be confessed, love of lucre. You relate some story heard in\na neighbouring village or praise some custom there observed, and the\npeasant\u2019s parochial patriotism is up in arms to prove the superiority\nof his native hamlet. You show perhaps some signs of incredulity (but\nnot until your informant is well launched upon his panegyric), and\nhis wounded pride bids him call in his neighbours to corroborate his\nstory. Or again you may hint at a little largesse, not of course for\nyour host--only witches and the professional reciters of folk-tales and\nballads are entitled to a fee--but on behalf of his children, and he\nmay pardon and satisfy what might otherwise have seemed too inquisitive\na curiosity.\n\nSuch are the folk to whom I am most beholden, and how shall I fitly\nacknowledge my debt to them? Their very names maybe were unknown to me\neven then, or at the most a \u2018John\u2019 or \u2018George\u2019 sufficed; and they in\nturn knew not that I was in their debt. You, muleteers and boatmen,\nwho drove shrewd bargains for your services and gave unwittingly so\nmuch beside, and you too, cottagers, who gave a night\u2019s lodging to a\nstranger and never guessed that your chatter was more prized than your\nshelter, how shall I thank you? Not severally, for I cannot write nor\ncould you ever read the list of acknowledgements due; but to you all,\nGeorges and Johns, Demetris and Constantines, and rare anachronistic\nEpaminondases, in memory of services rendered unawares, greeting from\nafar and true gratitude!\n\nNor must I omit to mention the assistance which I have derived from\nwritten sources. In recent times it has been a favourite amusement with\nGreeks of some education to compile little histories of the particular\ndistrict or island in which they live, and many of these contain a\nchapter devoted to the customs and superstitions of the locality. From\nthese, as also from the records of travel in Greece, particularly those\nof French writers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, I have\nculled much that is valuable.\n\nNearly ten years have passed since my return from Greece, and such\nleisure as they have allowed has been devoted to co-ordinating the\npiecemeal information which I personally obtained or have gathered\nfrom the writings of others, and to examining its bearing upon the\nlife and thought of Ancient Greece. In the former half of this task\nI have but followed in the steps of Bernhard Schmidt and of Polites,\nwho had already presented a coherent, if still incomplete, account of\nthe folklore of Modern Greece, and my work has been mainly to check,\nto correct, and to amplify; but for the latter half I would ask the\nindulgent consideration which may fairly be extended to a pioneer.\nAnalogies and coincidences in the beliefs and customs of modern and of\nancient Greece have indeed been pointed out by others; but no large\nattempt has previously been made to trace the continuity of the life\nand thought of the Greek people, and to exhibit modern Greek folklore\nas an essential factor in the interpretation of ancient Greek religion.\n\nIt is my hope that this book will prove interesting not to Greek\nscholars only, but to readers who have little or no acquaintance with\nGreek. All quotations whether from the ancient or modern language\nare translated, and references to ancient and modern writers are\ndistinguished by the use of the ordinary Latinised names and titles in\nthe case of the former, and the retention of the Greek character for\ndenoting the latter. As regards the transliteration of modern Greek\nwords, I have made no attempt to represent the exact sound, except to\nindicate in some words the accented syllable and to make the obvious\nsubstitution of the English _v_ for the Greek \u03b2; but to replace\n\u03b3 by _gh_ and \u03b4 by _dh_, as is sometimes done, gives to words an\nuncouth appearance without assisting the majority of readers in their\npronunciation.\n\nIt remains only to express my thanks to the reviser of my proofs, Mr\nW. S. Hadley of Pembroke College, but these are the hardest to express\nadequately. I was conscious of making no small demand on the kindness\nof the Tutor of a large College when I asked him to do me this service;\nand I am conscious now that any words in acknowledgement of his\nkindness are a poor expression of my gratitude for the generous measure\nof time and of trouble which he has expended on each page.\n\nLastly I would thank the Syndics of the University Press for their\nwillingness to undertake the publication of this book, and the staff of\nthe Press for their unfailing courtesy in the course of its preparation.\n\n  J. C. L.\n\n  PEMBROKE COLLEGE,\n    CAMBRIDGE,\n      _December 31, 1909_.\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\n  PREFACE                                                          vii-x\n\n  CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.\n\n  \u00a7 1. Modern Folklore as a source for the study of\n        Ancient Religion                                             1-7\n  \u00a7 2. The survival of Ancient Tradition                            8-25\n  \u00a7 3. The survival of Hellenic Tradition                          25-36\n  \u00a7 4. The survival of Pagan Tradition                             36-64\n\n  CHAPTER II. THE SURVIVAL OF PAGAN DEITIES.\n\n  \u00a7 1. The Range of Modern Polytheism                              65-71\n  \u00a7 2. Zeus                                                        72-74\n  \u00a7 3. Poseidon                                                    75-77\n  \u00a7 4. Pan                                                         77-79\n  \u00a7 5. Demeter and Persephone                                      79-98\n  \u00a7 6. Charon                                                     98-117\n  \u00a7 7. Aphrodite and Eros                                        117-120\n  \u00a7 8. The Fates                                                 121-130\n  \u00a7 9. The Nymphs                                                130-162\n  \u00a7 10. The Queens of the Nymphs                                 162-173\n  \u00a7 11. Lamiae, Gelloudes, and Striges                           173-184\n  \u00a7 12. Gorgons                                                  184-190\n  \u00a7 13. The Centaurs                                             190-255\n  \u00a7 14. Genii                                                    255-291\n\n  CHAPTER III. THE COMMUNION OF GODS AND MEN.                    292-360\n\n  CHAPTER IV. THE RELATION OF SOUL AND BODY.\n\n  \u00a7 1. The Modern Greek Vampire                                  361-376\n  \u00a7 2. The Composition of the Superstition: Slavonic,\n        Ecclesiastical, and Hellenic Contributions               376-412\n  \u00a7 3. Revenants in Ancient Greece                               412-434\n  \u00a7 4. Revenants as Avengers of Blood                            434-484\n\n  CHAPTER V. CREMATION AND INHUMATION                            485-514\n\n  CHAPTER VI. THE BENEFIT OF DISSOLUTION                         515-542\n\n  CHAPTER VII. THE UNION OF GODS AND MEN                         543-606\n\n  GENERAL INDEX                                                  607-617\n\n  INDEX OF GREEK WORDS AND PHRASES                               618-620\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nINTRODUCTORY.\n\n\n\u00a7 1. MODERN FOLKLORE AS A SOURCE FOR THE STUDY OF ANCIENT RELIGION.\n\nThe sources of information most obviously open to the student of\nancient Greek religion are the Art and the Literature of ancient\nGreece; and the idea that modern Greece can have any teaching to impart\nconcerning the beliefs of more than two thousand years ago seems seldom\nto have been entertained. Just as we speak of ancient Greek as a dead\nlanguage, and too often forget that many of the words and inflexions\nin popular use at the present day are identical with those of the\nclassical period and even of the Homeric age, while many others, no\nlonger identical, have suffered only a slight modification, so are we\napt to think of Greek paganism as a dead religion, and do not enquire\nwhether the beliefs and customs of the modern peasant may not be a\ndirect heritage from his classical forefathers. And yet, if any such\nheritage exist, there is clearly a fresh source of knowledge open to\nus, from which to supplement and to correct the lessons of Art and\nLiterature.\n\nArt, by its very nature, serves rather as illustration than as proof\nof any theory of ancient religion. Sculpture has preserved to us the\nold conceptions of the divine personalities. Vase-paintings record\nmany acts of ritual and scenes of worship. Architectural remains allow\nus to restore in imagination the grandeur of holy places. But these\nthings are only the externals of religion: they need an interpreter,\nif we would understand the spirit which informed them: and however\nable the interpreter, the material with which he deals is so small\na remnant of the treasures of ancient art, that from day to day\nsome fresh discovery may subvert his precariously founded theories.\nThough all would acknowledge how fruitful in religious suggestion the\nevidence of art has proved when handled by competent critics, none\nwould claim that that evidence either in its scope, which the losses of\ntime have limited, or in its accuracy, which depends upon conjectural\ninterpretation, is a complete or infallible guide to the knowledge of\nancient religion.\n\nFrom literature more might be expected, and more indeed is forthcoming,\nthough not perhaps where the modern mind, with its tendency to\nmethodical analysis, would look for it. If anyone should attempt to\nclassify ancient Greek literature in modern fashion, under the headings\nof religion, science, history, drama, and so forth, he would remark one\napparent deficiency. While history, philosophy, and poetry of every\nkind are amply represented and, however much has perished to be read no\nmore, the choicest blossoms and richest fruit of Greek toil in these\nfields have been preserved to us, religion seems at first sight to have\nbeen almost barren of literary produce. The department of religion\npure and simple would have little beyond an Hesiodic Theogony or some\nOrphic Hymns to exhibit,--and even these have little enough bearing\nupon real religion. In short, it is not on any special branch of Greek\nliterature, but rather upon the whole bulk thereof, that the student\nof Greek religion must rely. He must recognize that a religious spirit\npervades the whole; that there is hardly a book in the language but has\nsome allusion to religious beliefs and customs, to cults and ceremonies\nand divine personalities. And while recognizing this, he must still\nadmit the fact that nowhere is there found any definite exposition of\naccepted beliefs as a whole, any statement of doctrine, any creed which\nexcept a man believe he cannot be saved. How are we to reconcile these\ntwo facts,--the constant presence of religion in all Greek literature,\nand the almost total absence of any literature appertaining to religion\nonly? The answer to this question must be sought in the character of\nthe religion itself.\n\nGreek religion differed from the chief now existing religions of the\nworld in its origin and development. It had no founder. Its sanction\nwas not the _ipse dixit_ of some inspired teacher. It possessed nothing\nanalogous to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, or the Koran. It was a\nfree, autochthonous growth, evolved from the various hopes and fears\nof a whole people. If we could catch a glimpse of it in its infancy,\nwe should probably deny to it the very name of religion, and call it\nsuperstition or folklore. Great teachers indeed arose, like Orpheus,\nadvocating special doctrines and imposing upon their followers special\nrules of life. Great centres of religious influence were developed,\nsuch as Delphi, exercising a general control over rites and ceremonies.\nBut no single preacher, no priesthood, succeeded in dominating over\nthe free conscience of the people. Nothing was imposed by authority.\nIn belief and in worship each man was a law unto himself; and so far\nas there were any accepted doctrines and established observances,\nthese were not the subtle inventions of professional theologians or\nan interested priesthood, but were based upon the hereditary and\ninnate convictions of the whole Greek race. The individual was free to\nbelieve what he would and what he could; it was the general, if vague,\nconsensus of the masses which constituted the real religion of Greece.\nThe _vox populi_ fully established itself as the _vox dei_.\n\nAgain in this popular religion, when it had emerged from its earliest\nand crudest form and had reached the definitely anthropomorphic stage\nin which we know it, we can discern no trace of any tendency towards\nmonotheism. The idea of a single supreme deity, personal or impersonal,\nappealed only to some of the greatest thinkers: the mass of the people\nremained frankly polytheistic. For this reason the development of\nGreek religion proceeded on very different lines from that of Hebrew\nreligion. The earliest Jewish conception of a God \u2018walking in the\ngarden in the cool of the day\u2019 was certainly no less anthropomorphic\nthan the Homeric presentation of the Olympian deities: but the\nsubsequent growth of Judaism was like that of some tall straight palm\ntree lifting its head to purer air than is breathed by men; whereas\nGreek religion resembled rather the cedar spreading wide its branches\nnearer the earth. The Jew, by concentrating in one unique being every\ntranscendent quality and function, exalted gradually his idea of\ngodhead far above the anthropomorphic plane: the Greek multiplied\nhis gods to be the several incarnations of passions and powers and\nactivities pertaining also, though in less fulness, to mankind.\n\nIt is obvious that in point of simplicity and consistency the\nmonotheistic system must prove superior. As the worshipper\u2019s\nintellectual and spiritual capacities develop, he discards the older\nand cruder notions in favour of a more enlightened ideal. Abraham\u2019s\ncrude conception of the deity as a being to whom even human sacrifice\nwould be acceptable was necessarily rejected by an humaner age to whom\nwas delivered the message \u2018I will have mercy and not sacrifice.\u2019 In the\ngrowth of Greek polytheism, on the contrary, the new did not supersede\nthe old, but was superimposed upon it. Fresh conceptions were expressed\nby the creation or acceptance of fresh gods, but the venerable\nembodiments of more primitive beliefs were not necessarily displaced by\nthem. The development of humaner ideas in one cult was no bar to the\nretention of barbarous rites by another. The same deity under different\ntitles of invocation (\u1f10\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03b9) was invested with different and even\nconflicting characters: and reversely the same religious idea found\nseveral expressions in the cults of widely different deities. The forms\nof worship, viewed in the mass, were of an inconsistent and chaotic\ncomplexity. Human sacrifice, we may be sure, was a thing abhorrent to\nthe majority of the cults of Zeus: yet Lycaean Zeus continued to exact\nhis toll of human life down to the time of Pausanias[1]. The worship of\nDionysus embodied something of the same religious spirit which pervaded\nthe teachings of Orpheus and the mysteries of Demeter, and came to be\nclosely allied with them: yet neither the austerity of Orphism nor\nthe real spirituality of the Eleusinian cult succeeded in mitigating\nthe wild orgies of the Bacchant or in repressing the savage rite of\n_omophagia_ in which drunken fanatics tore a bull to pieces with their\nteeth. Aphrodite was worshipped under two incompatible titles: in the\n_r\u00f4le_ of the \u2018Heavenly\u2019 (\u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b1), says Artemidorus[2], she looks\nfavourably upon marriage and childbirth and the home life, while under\nher title of \u2018Popular\u2019 (\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2) she is hostile to the matron, and\npatroness of laxer ties. It is needless to multiply illustrations. The\nforms in which the religious spirit of Greece found embodiment are\nbeyond question confused and mutually inconsistent. The same religious\nidea might be expressed in so great a variety of rites, and the same\ndivine personality might be associated with so great a variety of\nideas, that no formal exposition of Greek religion as a whole was\npossible. The verbal limitations of a creed, a _summa theologiae_,\nwould have been too narrow for the free, imaginative faith of Greece.\nIt was a necessary condition of Hellenic polytheism that, as it came\ninto being without any personal founder, without any authoritative\nsacred books, so in its development it should be hampered and confined\nneither by priestcraft nor by any literature purely and distinctively\nreligious. The spirit which manifested itself in a myriad forms of\nworship could not brook the restraint of any one form of words.\n\nAnd not only would it have been difficult to give adequate expression\nto the essential ideas of Greek religion, but there was no motive for\nattempting the task. Those of the philosophers who dealt with religion\nwrote and taught for the reason that they had some new idea, some fresh\ndoctrine, to advance. Plato certainly abounds in references to the\npopular beliefs of his age: but his object is not to expound them for\ntheir own sake: rather he utilizes them as illustration and ornament\nof his own philosophical views: his treatment of them in the main is\nartistic, not scientific. In fact there was no one interested in giving\nto popular beliefs an authoritative and dogmatic expression. There\nwas no hierarchy concerned to arrest the free progress of thought or\nto chain men\u2019s minds to the faith of their forefathers. A summary of\npopular doctrines, if it could have been written, would have had no\nreaders, for the simple reason that the people felt their religion\nmore truly and fully than the writer could express it: and few men\nhave the interests of posterity so largely at heart, as to write what\ntheir own contemporaries will certainly not read. Thus it appears that\nthere was neither motive nor means for treating the popular religion\nin literary form: to formulate the common-folk\u2019s creed, to analyse the\ncommon-folk\u2019s religion, was a thing neither desired nor feasible.\n\nBut because we observe an almost total absence of distinctively\nreligious literature, we need not for that reason be surprised at the\nconstant presence of religious feeling in all that a Greek wrote or\nsang. Rather it was consistent with that freedom and that absence of\nall control and circumscription which we have noted, that religion\nshould pervade the whole life of the people, whose hearts were its\nnative soil, and should consequently pervade also the literature in\nwhich their thoughts and doings are recorded. For religion with them\nwas not a single and separate department of their civilisation, not\nan avocation from the ordinary pursuits of men, but rather a spirit\nwith which work and holiday, gaiety and gloom, were alike penetrated.\nWe should be misled by the modern devotion to dogma and definite\nformulae of faith, were we to think that so vague a religion as Greek\npolytheism was any the less an abiding force, any the less capable of\ninspiring genuine enthusiasm and reverence. It is not hard to imagine\nthe worshipper animated for the time by one emotion only, his mind\nvoid of all else and flooded with the one idea incarnate in the divine\nbeing at whose altar he sat in supplication. It is impossible really\nto misdoubt the strength and the depth of Greek religious sentiment,\nhowever multifarious and even mutually contradictory its modes of\ndisplay. A nation who peopled sky and earth and sea with godlike forms;\nwho saw in every stream and glen and mountain-top its own haunting,\nhallowing presence, and, ill-content that nature alone should do them\nhonour, sought out the loveliest hills and vales in all their lovely\nland to dedicate there the choicest of their art; who consecrated with\nlavish love bronze and marble, ivory and gold, all the best that wealth\ncould win and skill adorn, in honour of the beings that were above man\nyet always with him, majestic as Zeus, joyous as Dionysus, grave as\nDemeter, light as Aphrodite, yet all divine; such a nation, though it\nknew nought of inspired books and formulated creeds, can be convicted\nof no shortcoming in real piety and devotion.\n\nTheir gods were very near to those whom they favoured; no communion\nor intercourse was beyond hope of attainment; gods fought in men\u2019s\nbattles, guided men\u2019s wanderings, dined at men\u2019s boards, and took to\nthemselves mortal consorts; and when men grew degenerate and the race\nof heroes was no more, gods still held speech with them in oracles.\nReligious hopes, religious fears, were the dominant motive of the\npeople\u2019s whole life. It was in religion that sculpture found its\ninspiration, and its highest achievements were in pourtraying deities.\nThe theatre was a religious institution, and on the stage, without\ndetriment to reverence, figured the Eumenides themselves. Religious\nduties were excuse enough for Sparta to hang back from defending the\nfreedom of Greece. Religious scruples set enlightened Athens in an\nuproar, because a number of idols were decently mutilated. Religious\nfears cost her the loss of the proudest armament that ever sailed from\nher shores. A charge of irreligion was pretext enough for condemning\nto death her noblest philosopher. In everything, great and small, the\npouring of libations at the feast, the taking of omens before battle,\nthe consulting of the Delphic oracle upon the most important or most\ntrivial of occasions, the same spirit is manifest. Religion used or\nabused, piety or superstition, was to the Greeks an abiding motive and\ninfluence in all the affairs of life.\n\nIt is chiefly of these definite doings and customs that literature\ntells us, just as art depicts the _mise-en-sc\u00e8ne_ of religion. Yet it\nwould be inconceivable that a people who displayed so strong and so\nabundant a religious feeling in all the circumstances and tasks of\nlife, should not have pondered over the essential underlying questions\nof all religion, the nature of the soul and the mystery of life and\ndeath. Literature tells us that to their poets and philosophers these\nproblems did present themselves, and many were the solutions which\ndifferent thinkers propounded: but of the general sense of the people\nin this respect, of the fundamental beliefs which guided their conduct\ntowards gods and men in this life and prompted their care for the dead,\nliterature furnishes no direct statement: its evidence is fragmentary,\ncasual, sporadic. Everywhere it displays the externals, but it leaves\nthe inner spirit veiled. Literature as well as art needs an interpreter.\n\nIt is precisely in this task of interpretation that the assistance\noffered by the folklore of Modern Greece should be sought. It should\nbe remembered that there is still living a people who, as they have\ninherited the land and the language, may also have inherited the\nbeliefs and customs, of those ancients whose mazes of religion are\nbewildering without a guide who knows them. Among that still living\npeople it is possible not only to observe acts and usages, but\nto enquire also their significance: and though some customs will\nundoubtedly be found either to be mere survivals of which the meaning\nhas long been forgotten, or even to have been subjected to new and\nfalse interpretations, yet others, still rooted in and nourished by an\nintelligent belief, may be vital documents of ancient Greek life and\nthought.\n\n\n\u00a7 2. THE SURVIVAL OF ANCIENT TRADITION.\n\nThere may perhaps be some few who, quite apart from the continuity of\nthe Hellenic race, a question with which I must deal later, would be\ninclined to pronounce the quest of ancient religion in modern folklore\nmere lost labour. The lapse, they may think, of all the centuries which\nseparate the present day from the age of Hellenic greatness would in\nitself disfigure or altogether efface any tradition of genuine value.\nSuch a view, however, is opposed to all the lessons that have of late\nyears been gained from a more systematic study of the folklore of all\nparts of the world. Certain principles of magic and certain tendencies\nof superstition seem to obtain, in curiously similar form, among\npeoples far removed both in racial type and in geographical position.\nIt is sometimes urged by way of explanation that the resources of the\nprimitive mind are necessarily so limited, that many coincidences in\nbelief and custom are only to be expected, and that therefore the\nsimilarity of form presented by some superstitions of widely separated\npeoples is no argument in favour of their common origin. But, for my\npart, when I consider such a belief as that in the Evil Eye, which\npossesses, I believe, an almost world-wide notoriety, I find it\nmore reasonable to suppose that it was a tenet in the creed of some\nsingle primitive people, of whom many present races of the world are\noffshoots, and from whom they have inherited the superstition, than\nthat scores or hundreds of peoples, who had long since diverged in\nracial type and dwelling and language, should subsequently have hit\nupon one uniform belief. Indeed it may be that in the future the study\nof folklore will become a science of no less value than the study of\nlanguage, and that by a comparison of the superstitions still held by\nvarious sections of the human race it will be possible to adumbrate\nthe beliefs of their remotest common ancestors as clearly as, by\na comparison of their various speeches, the outlines of a common\nancestral language have been, and are being, traced. The _data_ of\nfolklore are in the nature of things more difficult to collect, more\ncomprehensive in scope, and more liable to misinterpretation, than the\n_data_ of linguistic study; but none the less, when once there are\nlabourers enough in the field, it is not beyond hope that the laws\nwhich govern the tradition and modification of customs and beliefs may\nbe found to be hardly less definite than the laws of language.\n\nBut comparative folklore is outside my present purpose. I assume\nonly, without much fear of contradiction, that many of the popular\nsuperstitions and customs and magical practices still prevalent in the\nworld date from a period far more remote than any age on which Greek\nhistory or archaeology can throw even a glimmering of light. If then\nI can show that among the Greek folk of to-day there still survive in\nfull vigour such examples of primaeval superstition as the belief in\n\u2018the evil eye\u2019 and the practice of magic, I shall have established at\nleast an antecedent probability that there may exist also vestiges of\nthe religious beliefs and practices of the historical era.\n\nThe fear of \u2018the evil eye\u2019 (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9, or simply \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9[3],) is\nuniversal among the Greek peasantry, and fairly common though not so\nfrankly avowed among the more educated classes. The old words \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9\nand \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 are still in use, but \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9 and \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1[4], direct\nformations from the word \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9, are more frequently heard. It would be\ndifficult to say on what grounds this power of \u2018overlooking,\u2019 if I\nmay use a popular English equivalent, is usually imputed to anyone.\nOld women are most generally credited with it, but not so much owing\nto any menacing appearance as because they are the chief exponents of\nwitchcraft and it is only fitting that the wise woman of a village\nshould possess the power of exercising the evil eye at will. These form\ntherefore quite a distinct class from those persons whose eyes are\nsuspected of exerting naturally and involuntarily a baneful influence.\nIn the neighbourhood of Mount Hymettus it appears that blue eyes fall\nmost commonly under suspicion: and this is the more curious because in\nAttica, with its large proportion of Albanian inhabitants, blue eyes\nare by no means rare. Possibly, however, it was the native Greeks\u2019\nsuspicion of the strangers who settled among them, which first caused\nthis particular development of the belief in this district. Myself\npossessing eyes of the objectionable colour, I have more than once been\nsomewhat taken aback at having my ordinary salutation (\u2019\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03ac \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5,\n\u2018health to you,\u2019) to some passing peasant answered only by the sign\nof the Cross. Fortunately in other localities I never to my knowledge\ninspired the same dread; had it been general, I should have been forced\nto abandon my project of enquiring into Greek folklore; for the risk\nof being \u2018overlooked\u2019 holds the Greek peasant, save for a few phrases\nof aversion, in awe-stricken silence. My impression is that any eyes\nwhich are peculiar in any way are apt to incur suspicion, and that in\ndifferent localities different qualities, colouring or brilliance or\nprominence, excite special notice and, with notice, disfavour. The evil\neye, it would seem, is a regular attribute both of the Gorgon and of\nthe wolf; for both, by merely looking upon a man, are still believed to\ninflict some grievous suffering,--dumbness, madness, or death; and yet\nthere is little in common between the narrow, crafty eye of the wolf\nand either the prominent, glaring eyes in an ancient Medusa\u2019s head or\nthe passionate, seductive eyes of the modern Gorgon, unless it be that\nany fixed unflinching gaze is sufficient reason for alarm.\n\nSome such explanation will best account for the strange vagary of\nsuperstition which brings under the category of the evil eye two\nclasses of things which seemingly would have no connexion either with\nit or with each other, looking-glasses and the stars.\n\nTo look at oneself in a mirror is, in some districts, regarded as a\ndangerous operation, especially if it be prolonged. A bride, being\nspecially liable to all sinister influences, is wise to forego the\npleasure of seeing her own reflection in the glass; and a woman in\nchild-bed, who is no less liable, is deprived of all chance of seeing\nherself by the removal of all mirrors from the room. The risk in\nall cases is usually greatest at night, and in the town of Sinasos\nin Cappadocia no prudent person would at that time incur it[5]. The\nreflection, it would seem, of a man\u2019s own image may put the evil eye\nupon him by its steady gaze: and it was in fear of such an issue that\nDamoetas, in the _Idylls_ of Theocritus, after criticizing his own\nfeatures reflected in some glassy pool, spat thrice into his bosom that\nhe might not suffer from the evil eye[6].\n\nThe belief in a certain magical property of the stars akin to that of\nthe evil eye is far more widely held. They are, as it were, the eyes\nof night, and in the darkness \u2018overlook\u2019 men and their belongings as\ndisastrously as does the human eye in the day-time. Just as a woman\nafter confinement is peculiarly liable to the evil eye and must have\namulets hung about her and mirrors removed from her room, so must\nparticular care be taken to avoid exposure to stellar influence.\nSonnini de Magnoncourt, who had some medical experience in Greece,\nspeaks authoritatively on this subject. According to the popular view,\nhe says, she must not let herself be \u2018seen by a star\u2019; and if she\ngoes out before the prescribed time,--according to this authority,\nonly eight days, but now preferably forty days, from the birth of\nthe child,--she is careful to return home and to shut herself up in\nher room by sunset, and after that hour to open neither door nor\nwindow, for fear that a star may surprise her and cause the death of\nboth mother and child[7]. So too in the island of Chios, if there is\noccasion to carry leaven from one house to another, it must be covered\nup,--in the day-time \u2018to prevent it from being seen by any strange\neye,\u2019 at night \u2018to prevent it from being seen by the stars\u2019: for if it\nwere \u2018overlooked\u2019 by either, the bread made with it would not rise[8].\nSuch customs show clearly that the stars are held to exercise exactly\nthe same malign influence as the human eye: the same simple phrases\ndenote in Greek the operation of either, and the \u2018overlooking\u2019 of\neither has the same blighting effect.\n\nThe range of this mischievous influence--for I now take it that the\nevil eye and the stars are indistinguishable in their ill effects--is\nvery large. Human beings are perhaps most susceptible to it. In some\ndistricts[9] indeed new-born infants up to the time of their baptism\nare held to be immune; till then they are the children of darkness,\nand the powers of darkness do not move against them. But in general\nno one at any moment of his life is wholly secure. Amulets however\nafford a reasonable safety at ordinary times; it is chiefly in the\ncritical hours of life, at marriage and at the birth of children, that\nthe fear of the evil eye is lively and the precautions against it more\nelaborate. Animals also may be affected. Horses and mules are very\ncommonly protected by amulets hung round their necks, and this is the\noriginal purpose of the strings of blue beads with which the cab-horses\nof Athens are often decorated. The shepherd too has cause for anxiety\non behalf of his flock, and, when a bad season or disease diminishes\nthe number of his lambs, is apt to re-echo the pastoral complaint,\n\n    Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos[10].\n    \u2018Some jealous eye \u201co\u2019erlooks\u201d my tender lambs.\u2019\n\nAnd the pernicious influence makes itself felt in even a lower scale\nof life. In the neighbourhood of Sparta, where there is a considerable\nsilk industry, the women believe that silk-worms are susceptible of\nmischief from the evil eye; and the same superstition is recorded by de\nMagnoncourt from Chios.\n\nOf inanimate things, those most easily damaged in a similar way are\nleaven, salt, and vinegar,--as being possessed of quickening or\npreservative properties to which the blighting, destructive power of\nthe evil eye or of the stars is naturally opposed. The precautions\nto be observed in carrying leaven from house to house have already\nbeen noticed. Equal care is required in the making of the bread. It\noften happens, so I have been told, that when a woman is kneading,\nsome malicious neighbour will come in, ostensibly for a chat, and put\nthe evil eye upon the leaven; and unless the woman perceives what is\ngoing on and averts disaster by a special gesture which turns the evil\ninfluence against the intruder, nothing to call bread will be baked\nthat day. Similarly it is unwise to borrow or to give away either salt\nor vinegar at night[11]; but if it is necessary, it is prudent to\ntake precautions to prevent its exposure to the stars, which may even\nbe cheated of their prey by some such device as calling the vinegar\n(\u03be\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b9) \u2018syrup\u2019 (\u03b3\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03b4\u03b9) in asking for it[12]. Further, an object\nwhich has been exposed to the stars may even carry the infection, as\nit were, to those who afterwards use it. For this reason the linen and\nclothes of a mother and her new-born infant must never be left out of\ndoors at night[13].\n\nThe precaution, as I have said, most commonly adopted is the wearing\nof amulets. The articles which have the greatest intrinsic virtue for\nthis purpose are garlic, bits of blue stone or glass often in the form\nof beads, old coins, salt, and charcoal: but many other things, by\ntheir associations, may be rendered efficacious. The stump of a candle\nburnt on some high religious festival, or a shred of the Holy Shroud\nused on Good Friday, is by no means to be despised; and the bones of a\nbat or a snake\u2019s skin over which a witch has muttered her incantations\nacquire thereby an equal merit. But such charms as these are _objets\nde luxe_; the ordinary man contents himself with the commoner articles\nwhose virtue is in themselves. No midwife, I understand, would go about\nher business without a plentiful supply of garlic. It is well that the\nroom should be redolent of it, and a few cloves must be fastened about\nthe baby\u2019s neck either at birth or immediately after the baptism. Blue\nbeads are in general use for women, children, and animals. If men wear\nthem, they are usually concealed from view. But mothers value them\nabove all, because in virtue of their colour--\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac\u03b6\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 is modern Greek\nfor \u2018blue\u2019--they ensure an abundant supply of milk (\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1) unaffected\nby the evil eye or any other sinister potency. Salt and charcoal are\nmost conveniently carried in little bags with a string to go round the\nneck. An effective charm consists of three grains of each material with\nan old coin. But many other things are also used; when I have been\npermitted to inspect the contents of such a bag, I have found strange\nassortments of things, pebbles, pomegranate-seeds, bits of soap, leaves\nof basil and other plants, often hard to recognize through age and dirt\nand grease. One scientifically-minded man recommended me sulphate of\ncopper.\n\nSpecial occasions also have special precautions proper to them. At\na wedding, the time of all others when envious eyes are most likely\nto cause mischief, the bridegroom commonly carries a black-handled\nknife slipped inside his belt[14], and the bride has an open pair of\nscissors in her shoe or some convenient place, in order that any such\nevil influence may be \u2018cut off.\u2019 But some of these magical safeguards\nconcern not only the evil eye, but ghostly perils in general, and will\nclaim notice in other connexions.\n\nIf, however, through lack of precautions or in spite of them, a man\nsuspects that he is being \u2018overlooked,\u2019 he must rely for protection\non the resources with which nature has provided him. The simplest\nthing is to spit,--three times for choice, for that number has magical\nvalue,--but on oneself, not at the suspected foe. Theocritus was\nscrupulously correct, according to the modern view, in making his\nshepherd spit thrice on his own bosom. Another expedient, though no\ngarlic be at hand to give effect to the words, is to ejaculate, \u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf\n\u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018garlic in your eyes!\u2019 Or use may be made of an\nimprecation considered effective in many circumstances of danger, \u03bd\u1f70\n\u03c6\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018may you devour your own head!\u2019 Lastly there is the\n\u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, a gesture of the hand,--first raised with the fist closed\nand then suddenly advanced either with all the fingers open but bent,\nor with the thumb and little finger alone extended,--which returns the\nevil upon the offender\u2019s own head with usury.\n\nBut, in spite of these manifold means of defence, the evil eye has\nits victims; some malady seizes upon a man, for which no other cause\ncan be assigned; and the question of a cure arises. Here the Church\ncomes to the rescue, with special forms of prayer, commonly known as\n\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03af, provided for the purpose. The person affected goes to the\nchurch, or, if the case be serious, the priest comes to his house,\nthe prayers are recited, and the sufferer is fumigated with incense.\nAlso if there happens to be a sacred spring or well, \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 as it\nis called, in the precincts of any church near,--and there are a fair\nnumber of churches in Greece which derive both fame and emolument from\nthe possession of healing and miracle-working waters[15],--the victim\nof the evil eye is well-advised to drink of them. There are some,\nhowever, who rate the powers of a witch more highly than those of a\npriest, and prefer her incantations to the prayers of the Church. She\nknows, or is ready to improvise, forms of exorcism (\u03be\u03cc\u03c1\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, \u03be\u03bf\u03c1\u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03af)\nfor all kinds of affliction. A typical example[16] begins, as do many\nof the incantations of witchcraft, with an invocation of Christ and the\nVirgin and the Trinity and the twelve Apostles; then comes a complaint\nagainst the grievous illness which needs curing; next imprecations\nupon the man or woman responsible for causing it; and finally an\nadjuration of the evil eye to depart from the sufferer\u2019s \u2018head and\nheart and finger-nails and toe-nails and the cockles of the heart,\nand to begone to the hills and mountains[17]\u2019 and so forth; after all\nwhich the Lord\u2019s prayer or any religious formula may be repeated _ad\nlibitum_. During the recitation of some such charm, the witch fumigates\nher patient either with incense, or,--what is more effectual where a\nguess can be made as to the identity of the envious enemy,--by burning\nsomething belonging to the latter, a piece of his clothing or even a\nhandful of earth from his doorway[18]. Or again, if the patient is at a\nloss to conjecture who it is that has harmed him, recourse may be had\nto divination. A familiar method is to burn leaves or petals of certain\nplants,--basil and gillyflower being of special repute[19],--mentioning\nat the same time a number of names in succession. A loud pop or\ncrackling denotes that the name of the offender has been reached, and\nthe treatment can then proceed as described above.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNo less widespread in Greece than the belief in the evil eye, and\nequally primitive in character, is the practice of magic. Few\nvillages, I believe, even at the present day do not possess a wise\nwoman (\u03bc\u03ac\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1). Often indeed, owing to the spread of education and\nthe desire to be thought \u2018European\u2019 and \u2018civilised,\u2019 the inhabitants\nwill indignantly deny her existence, and affect to speak of witches\nas things of the past. But in times of illness or trouble they are\napt to forget their pretensions of superiority, and do not hesitate\nto avail themselves of the lore inherited from their superstitious\nforefathers. For the most part women are the depositaries of these\nancient secrets, and the knowledge of charms, incantations, and all\nthe rites and formularies of witchcraft is handed down from mother to\ndaughter. But men are not excluded from the profession. The functions\nof the priest, for example, are not clearly distinguished from those of\nthe unconsecrated magician. At a baptism, which often takes place in\nthe house where the child is born and not at the church, the priest\nopens the service by exorcising all evil spirits and influences from\nthe four corners of the room by swinging his censer, but the midwife,\nwho usually knows something of magic, or one of the god-parents,\naccompanies him and makes assurance doubly sure by spitting in each\nsuspected nook. Moreover if a priest lead a notoriously evil life or\nchance to be actually unfrocked, the devil invests him with a double\nportion of magical power, which on any serious occasion is sure to be\nin request. But, apart from the clergy who owe their powers to the use\nor abuse of their office, there are other men too here and there who\ndeal in witchcraft. They are usually specialists in some one branch,\nand professors of the white art rather than of the black,--one versed\nin popular medicine and the incantations proper to it, another in\nundoing mischievous spells, another in laying the restless dead. The\ngeneral practitioners, causing disease as often as curing it, binding\nwith curses as readily as loosing from them, are for the most part\nwomen.\n\nI shall not attempt to enumerate here all the petty uses of magic\nof which I have heard or read: indeed an exhaustive treatment of\nthe subject, even for one who had devoted a lifetime to cultivating\nan intimacy with Greek witches, would be hardly possible; for their\nsecrets are not lightly divulged, and new circumstances may at any\ntime require the invention of new methods. I propose only to describe\nsome of the best known and most widely spread practices, some\nbeneficent, others mischievous. Most of them will be seen to be based\non the primitive and worldwide principle of sympathetic magic,--the\nprinciple that a relation, analogy, or sympathy existing, or being once\nestablished, between two objects, that which the one does or suffers,\nwill be done or suffered also by the other.\n\nIf it be desired to cause physical injury or death to an enemy, the\nsimplest and surest method is to make an image of him in some malleable\nmaterial,--wax, lead, or clay,--and, if opportunity offer, to knead\ninto it or attach to it some trifle from the enemy\u2019s person. Three\nhairs from his head are a highly valuable acquisition, but parings\nof his nails or a few shreds of his clothing will serve: or again\nthe image may be put in some place where his shadow will fall upon\nit as he passes. These refinements of the practice, however, are not\nindispensable; the image by itself will suffice. This being made, the\ntreatment of it varies according to the degree of suffering which it is\ndesired to inflict.\n\nAcute pain may be caused to the man by driving into his image pins\nor nails. This device is popularly known as \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03c6\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1, \u2018pinning\u2019 or\n\u2018nailing,\u2019 and many variations of it are practised. One case recorded\nin some detail was that of a priest\u2019s wife who from her wedding-day\nonward was a prey to various pains and ills. The priest tried in vain\nto relieve them by prayer, and finally called in a witch to aid him.\nAfter performing certain occult rites of divination, she informed him\nthat he must dig in the middle of his courtyard. There he found a tin,\nwhich on being opened revealed an assortment of pernicious charms,--one\nof his wife\u2019s bridal shoes with a large nail through it, a dried-up bit\nof soap (presumably from the bridal bath) stuck full of pins, a wisp\nof hair (probably some of the bride\u2019s combings) all in a tangle, and\nlastly a padlock. The nail and pins were at once pulled out and the\nhair carefully disentangled, with the result that the woman was freed\nfrom her pains and her complicated ailments. But the padlock could not\nbe undone, and was thrown away into the sea, with the result that the\nwoman remained childless. The bride had been \u2018nailed\u2019 (\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c6\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7) by a\nrival. In this case, it is true, no waxen or leaden image was used, but\nthe principle is the same. The use of an image is only preferable as\nallowing the maker of it to select any part of the body which he wishes\nto torture.\n\nAnother method of dealing with the image is to melt or wear it away\ngradually; if it be of wax or lead, it may be seared with a red-hot\npoker, or placed bodily in the fire; if it be of clay, it may be\nscraped with a knife, or put into some stream which will gradually wash\nit away. Accordingly as it is thus wasted away, slowly or rapidly, so\nwill the person whom it represents waste and die. This is in principle\nthe same system as that adopted by Simaetha in the Idyll of Theocritus\nto win back the love of Delphis. \u2018Even as I melt this wax,\u2019 she cries,\n\u2018with God\u2019s help, so may the Myndian Delphis by love be straightway\nmolten[20]\u2019; and she too used in her magic rites a fringe from Delphis\u2019\ncloak, to shred and to cast into the fierce flame.[21] Only, in her\ncase, the incantation turned what might have been a death-spell into a\nlove-charm.\n\nLove and jealousy are still the passions which most frequently suggest\nthe use of magic. Occult methods are necessary to the girl whose\nmodesty prevents her from courting openly the man on whom her heart is\nset, and not less so to her who would punish the faithlessness of a\nformer lover.\n\nThe following are some recorded recipes[22] for winning the love of an\napathetic swain.\n\nObtain some milk from the breasts of a mother and daughter who are both\nnursing male infants at the same time, or, in default of that, from any\ntwo women both nursing first-born male infants; mix it with wheat-flour\nand leaven, and contrive that the man eat of it. Repeat therewith the\nfollowing incantation: \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03c4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03af\u03b1 \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u1f14\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f41 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5 \u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5,\n\u2018As the infants now cry and throb with desire for the milk which fails\nthem, so may N. throb with desire for M.\u2019\n\nTake a bat or three young swallows, and roast to cinders on a fire of\nsticks gathered by a witch at midnight where cross-roads meet: at the\nsame time repeat the words, \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b7\u03c6\u03bf\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9, \u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\n\u1f21 \u03bd\u03c5\u03c7\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b1 \u1f14\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u1fc3 \u1f41 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03bc\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u1fc3 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b9\u032f\u03ac\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5, \u2018As the bat writhes, quivers, and throbs, so may N.\nturn, and his heart quiver and throb with desire for M.\u2019 The ashes of\nthe bat are then to be put into the man\u2019s drink.\n\nTake a bat and bury it at cross-roads; burn incense over it for forty\ndays at midnight; dig it up and grind its spine to powder. Put the dust\nin the man\u2019s drink as before.\n\nSuch are some of the magic means of winning love; and the rites, while\ninvolving as much cruelty to the bat as was suffered by the bird of\nwitchcraft, the \u1f34\u03c5\u03b3\u03be, in the ancient counterpart of these practices,\nare at any rate, save for the ashes in the man\u2019s liquor, innocuous\nto him. But the weapon of witchcraft wherewith a jealous woman takes\nvengeance upon a man who has forsaken her or who has never returned\nher affection and takes to himself another for his bride, is truly\ndiabolical. This is known as the spell of \u2018binding\u2019 (\u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd or\n\u1f00\u03bc\u03c0\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03b1[23]). Its purpose is to fetter the virility of the husband\nand so to prevent the consummation of the marriage. The rite itself\nis simple. Either the jealous girl herself or a witch employed by her\nattends the wedding, taking with her a piece of thread or string in\nwhich three loops have been loosely made. During the reading of the\ngospel or the pronouncement of the blessing, she pulls the ends of\nthe string, forming thereby three knots in it, and at the same time\nmutters the brief incantation, \u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f74 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u03b7, \u2018I bind N. and M. and the Devil betwixt them.\u2019 The\nthread is subsequently buried or hidden, and unless it can be found\nand either be burnt or have the knots untied, there is small hope for\nthe man to recover from his impotence. There is no doubt, I think,\nthat the extreme fear in which this spell is held has in some cases so\nworked upon the bridegroom\u2019s nerves as to render the \u2018binding\u2019 actually\neffective, just as extreme faith in miraculous _icons_ occasionally\neffects cures of nervous maladies[24]. Sonnini de Magnoncourt vouches\nfor a case, known to him personally, in which the effect of this\nterror continued for several months, until finally the marriage was\ndissolved on the ground of non-consummation, and the man afterwards\nmarried another wife and regained his energy[25]. I myself have more\nthan once been told of similar cases, in which however divorce was not\nsought (it is extremely rare in Greece) but the spell was broken by\nthe finding of the thread or by countervailing operations of magic. In\nAetolia, where this superstition is specially rife, I knew of a priest,\na son of Belial by all accounts, who made a speciality of loosing\nthese binding-spells. By his direction the afflicted man and his wife\nwould go at sunset to a lonely chapel on a mountain-side, taking\nwith them food and a liberal supply of wine, with which to regale\nthemselves and the priest till midnight. At that hour they undressed\nand stood before the priest, who pronounced over them some form of\nexorcism and benediction,--my informant could not give me the words.\nThey then retired to rest on some bedding provided by the priest on\nthe chapel-floor, while he recited more prayers and swung his censer\nover them. I was assured that more than one couple in the small town\nwhere I was staying confessed to having obtained release from the spell\nby a night thus spent and with the extreme simplicity of the peasants\nof that district thought no shame to confess it. And this is the more\neasily intelligible, because, as we shall see later[26], the practice\nof \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, sleeping in some holy place with a view to being cured\nof any ailment, is as familiar to Christians of to-day as it was to\ntheir pagan ancestors.\n\nBut pure magic too, no less than these quasi-Christian methods, may\neffect the loosing of the bond, even without the discovery of the\nknotted thread which is the source of the mischief. In a recent case\non record, a witch, having been consulted by a couple thus distressed,\ntook them to the sea-shore, bade them undress, bound them together with\na vine-shoot, and caused them to stand embracing one another in the\nwater until forty waves had beaten upon them[27]. On the significance\nof the details of this charm no comment is made by the recorder of\nit; but they deserve, I think, some notice. The vine-shoot, like the\nolive-shoot, is a known instrument of purification, and is sometimes\nlaid on the bier beside the dead during the lying-in-state (\u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2).\nSalt is likewise possessed of magical powers to avert all evil\ninfluences,--we have noticed the use of it in amulets to protect from\nthe evil eye,--and the sea is therefore more efficacious than a river\nfor mystic purposes. Forty is the number of purification; the churching\nof women takes place on the fortieth day from the birth, whence the\nGreek word for to \u2018church\u2019 is \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b6\u03c9,--from \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u2018forty.\u2019 Lastly\nthe beating of the waves seems intended to drive out by physical\ncompulsion the devil or any power of evil by which husband and wife are\nkept apart.\n\nIn view of this danger it is natural that ample precautions should\nbe taken at every wedding. During the dressing of the bride or the\nbridegroom, it is customary to throw a handful of salt into a vessel\nof water, saying, \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f01\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9, \u1f14\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f40\u03c7\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03af\n(\u1f10\u03c7\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03af), \u2018As the salt dissolves, so may all enemies dissolve.\u2019 The\nblack-handled knife worn by the bridegroom in his belt, and the pair\nof scissors put in the bride\u2019s shoe or sometimes attached to her\ngirdle, both of which have been noticed as safeguards against the\nevil eye, serve also to \u2018cut\u2019 this magic bond of impotence. Sometimes\ntoo a pair of scissors and a piece of fisherman\u2019s net are put in the\nbridal bed. In Acarnania and Aetolia, and it may be elsewhere, a still\nmore primitive custom prevails; both bride and bridegroom wear an\nold piece of fishing-net,--in which therefore resides the virtue of\nsalt water,--round the loins next to the body; and from these bits of\nnetting are afterwards made amulets to be worn by any children of the\nmarriage. Such customs are likely long to continue among the simpler\nfolk of modern Greece, who frankly and innocently wish the bride at her\nwedding reception \u2018seven sons and one daughter.\u2019\n\nBut it is not only for ailments induced by malicious magic that magical\nmeans of cure or aversion are used. The whole of popular medicine is\nbased upon the knowledge of charms and incantations. Many simples and\ndrugs are of course known and employed; but it is still generally\nbelieved, as it was in old time, that \u2018there would be no good in the\nherb without the incantation[28].\u2019 For the most ordinary diseases are\ncredited to supernatural causes, and there is no ill to which flesh is\nheir,--from a headache to the plague,--without some demon responsible\nfor it. A nightmare and the sense of physical oppression which often\naccompanies it are not traced to so vulgar a cause as a heavy supper,\nbut are dignified as the work of a malicious being named \u0392\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2[29],\nwho in the dead of night delights to seat himself on the chest of\nsome sleeper, and by his weight produces an unpleasant feeling of\ncongestion. Material for a similar personification has been found also\nin the more terrible pestilences by which Greece has from time to time\nbeen visited. It is still believed among the poorest folk of Athens\nthat in a cleft on the Hill of the Nymphs, undisturbed even by the\nmodern observatory on its summit, there lives a gruesome sisterhood,\na trinity of she-devils, \u03a7\u03bf\u03bb\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1, \u0392\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03ac, and \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03ba\u03bb\u03b1,--Cholera,\nSmallpox, and Plague.\n\nGranted then that illness in general is the malicious work of\nsupernatural beings, common reason recommends the employment of\nsupernatural means to defeat and expel them. Forms of exorcism have\nin past times been provided by the Church and are still in vogue; but\nhere, as in other matters, the functions of the priest are shared\nwith the witch, and an old woman versed in the traditional lore of\npopular medicine is as competent as any bishop to cast out the devils\nof sickness. Nor do the popular incantations differ much in substance\nfrom the ecclesiastical. The witch knows better than to try to cast\nout devils in the Devil\u2019s name, and her exorcisms contain invocations\nof God and the saints of the same character as those sanctioned by\nthe Church; only in her accompanying rites and gestures there is a\npicturesque variety which is lacking in the swinging of the priest\u2019s\ncenser.\n\nThe details of the rites and the full forms of incantation are in\ngeneral extremely difficult to obtain. The witches themselves are\nalways reticent on such points, and I have known one plead, by way of\nexcuse for her apparent discourtesy in withholding information, that\nthe virtue of magic was diminished in proportion as the knowledge of\nit was disseminated. One cure, however,--a cure for headache--will\nsufficiently illustrate the principle on which the healing art among\nthe common-folk generally proceeds. This cure is based upon the\nassumption that the tense and bruised feeling of a bad headache is\ndue to the presence of some demon within the skull, and that the\nroom which he occupies must have been provided by distention of the\nhead,--which will therefore measure more in circumference while it\naches than when the demon has been exorcised. This is demonstrated in\nthe course of the cure. The witch takes a handkerchief and measures\nwith it the patient\u2019s head. Doubling back the six or eight inches of\nthe handkerchief that remain over, she puts in the fold three cloves of\ngarlic, three grains of salt, or some other article of magical virtue,\nand ties a knot. Then waving the handkerchief about the patient\u2019s head,\nshe recites her form of exorcism,--but usually in a tone so low and\nmumbling that the bystanders cannot catch the words. The exorcism being\nfinished, she again measures the head, and this time the knot, which\nmarks the previous measurement, is found to overlap, by two or three\ninches it may be, the other end of the kerchief,--a sure sign that the\nintruding demon has been expelled and that the head having returned to\nits natural dimensions will no longer ache[30]. The exact words of the\nincantation which should accompany this rite I could not obtain; but\nI make little doubt that in substance they would differ little from a\nMacedonian formula recently published:--\n\n\u2018For megrim and headache:\n\n\u2018Write on a piece of paper:--God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of\nJacob, loose the demon of the megrim from the head of Thy servant. I\ncharge thee, unclean spirit which ever sittest in the head of man,\ntake thy pain and depart from the head: from half-head, membrane, and\nvertebra, from the servant of God, So-and-so. Stand we fairly, stand we\nwith fear of God. Amen[31].\u2019\n\nIn this instance we have the formula but not, it seems, the rite which\nshould accompany it; for the mere act of committing the words to paper\nis hardly likely to be deemed sufficient. Probably the paper would be\nlaid under the pillow at night, or, as I have known in other cases,\nwould be burnt, and its ashes taken as a sedative powder.\n\nThe various charms which we have so far considered are directed towards\nthe hurt or the healing of man: but external nature is also responsive\nto magic spells. It is rumoured that there are still witches who have\npower to draw down the moon from the heavens by incantation; but a more\nuseful ceremony, designed to draw down the clouds upon a parched land,\nmay still be actually witnessed. The most recent case known to me was\nin the April of 1899, when the rite was carried out some few days,\nunfortunately, after I had left the district by the people of Larissa.\nThe custom is known all over the north of Greece--in Epirus[32],\nThessaly, and Macedonia,--and also it is said among some of the Turks,\nWallachs, and Servians; to the south of those regions and in the\nislands of the Aegean I heard nothing of it. A boy (or sometimes, it\nis said, a girl[33]) is stripped naked and then dressed up in wreaths\nand festoons of leafage, grass, and flowers, and, escorted by a troop\nof children of his own age, goes the round of the neighbourhood. He is\nknown as the \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1, and his companions sing as they go,\n\n    Perper\u00eda goes his way\n    And to God above doth pray,\n    Rain, O God, a gentle rain,\n    Shed, O God, a gentle shower,\n    That the fields may give their grain,\n    And the vines may come to flower,\n\nand so forth in such simple strain[34]. At each doorway and more\nparticularly at every spring and well, which it is the special duty of\nthe Perper\u00eda to visit, anyone who will may empty a vessel of water over\nthe boy, to whom some compensation for his drenching is usually made in\nthe form of sweetmeats or coppers.\n\nThe word \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 has been the subject of considerable discussion.\nBy-forms \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1, and \u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1 also occur. The first\ntwo are of the nature of diminutives; the last-named is a corrupt form\nused only, so far as I know, in one district of Epirus, and means\na \u2018garden-poppy.\u2019 The perversion of the word has in this district\n(Zagorion) affected the rite itself; for it is considered necessary\nfor this flower to be used largely in dressing up the chief actor in\nthe ceremony[35]. But the most general, and, as I think, most correct\nform is \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 (or \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1). With the ancient word \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1,\nderived from the Latin _perperus_ and used in the sense of \u2018boasting\u2019\nor \u2018ostentation,\u2019 it can, I feel, have no connexion; and I suggest that\nit stands for \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1, with the same abbreviation as in \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u1ff6\nfor \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u1ff6, \u2018walk,\u2019 and subsequent assimilation of the first two\nsyllables. If my conjecture is right, the word originally meant nothing\nmore than a \u2018procession round\u2019 the village; next it became confined in\nusage to a procession for the particular purpose of procuring rain;\nand finally, the words \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1[36] and \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 having been lost from\npopular speech, it was taken to be the name of the boy who plays the\nuncomfortable part of vegetation craving water. And indeed it would\nseem likely that the song which forms part of the ceremony was actually\nfirst composed at a time when \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 was still understood in the\nsense of \u2018procession\u2019: for in every recorded version known to me it\nwould be still possible to interpret the word in this meaning without\ndetriment to the context.\n\nThe rite itself as an example of sympathetic magic requires no\ncommentary: a simpler application of the principle that like produces\nlike could not be found.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOther examples of primitive customs and beliefs still prevalent\nin Greece might easily be amassed: but I have preferred to select\nthese few for detailed treatment rather than to glance over a larger\nnumber, in order that they may the more clearly be seen to belong to\ncertain types of superstition found the whole world over and therefore\npresumably dating from prehistoric ages: for if the population of\nGreece has proved a good vehicle for the transmission of superstitions\nso primaeval, it will surely follow that there is nothing extravagant\nin hoping to learn also from their traditions something of the religion\nof historic Hellas.\n\n\n\u00a7 3. THE SURVIVAL OF HELLENIC TRADITION.\n\nThere may however be some who, while admitting that mere lapse of time\nneed not have extinguished ancient Hellenic ideas, will be disposed to\nquestion the likelihood, even the possibility, of their transmission\non racial grounds. The belief in the evil eye and the practice of\nsympathetic magic were once, they may say, the common property of the\nwhole uncivilised world; and though the inhabitants of modern Greece\nhave inherited these old superstitions and usages, there is nothing\nto show from what ancestry they have received the inheritance. The\npopulation, it may be urged, has changed; the Greeks of to-day are not\nHellenes; their blood has been contaminated by foreign admixture, and\nwith this admixture may have come external, non-Hellenic traditions;\nhas not Fallmerayer stoutly maintained that the modern inhabitants of\nGreece have practically no claim to the name of Hellenes, but come of a\nstock Slavonic in the main, though cross-bred with the offscourings of\nmany peoples?\n\nThe historical facts from which Fallmerayer argued are not to be\nslighted. It is well established[37] that, from the middle of the sixth\ncentury onwards, successive hordes of Slavonic invaders swept over\nGreece, driving such of the native population as escaped destruction\ninto the more mountainous or remote districts; that in the middle of\nthe eighth century, when the numbers of the Greek population had been\nfurther reduced by the great pestilence of 746, \u2018the whole country,\u2019\nto use the exact phrase of Constantine Porphyrogenitus[38], \u2018became\nSlavonic and was occupied by foreigners\u2019; that the Slavonic supremacy\nlasted at least until the end of the tenth century; that thereafter\na gradual fusion of the remnants of the Greek population with their\nconquerors began, but proceeded so slowly that at the beginning of the\nthirteenth century the \u2018Franks,\u2019 as the warriors of Western Christendom\nwere popularly called, found Slavonic tribes in Elis and Laconia quite\ndetached from the rest of the population, acknowledging indeed the\nsupremacy of the Byzantine government, but still employing their own\nlanguage and their own laws; and finally that the amalgamation of the\ntwo races was not complete even by the middle of the fifteenth century,\nfor the Turks at their conquest of Greece found several tribes of the\nPeloponnese, especially in the neighbourhood of Mount Taygetus, still\nspeaking a Slavonic tongue.\n\nIf then, as is now generally admitted, Fallmerayer\u2019s conclusions were\nsomewhat exaggerated, it remains none the less an historical fact that\nthere is a very large admixture of Slavonic blood in the veins of the\npresent inhabitants of Greece. The truth of this is moreover enforced\nby the physical characteristics of the people as a whole. Travellers\nconversant alike with Slavs and with modern Greeks have affirmed to me\ntheir impression that there is a close physical resemblance between the\ntwo races; and while I have not the experience of Slavonic races which\nwould permit me to judge of this resemblance for myself, it certainly\noffers the best explanation of my own observations with regard to the\nvariations of physical type in different parts of the Greek world. In\nthe islands of the Aegean and in the promontory of Maina, to which the\nSlavs never penetrated, the ancient Hellenic types are far commoner\nthan in the rest of the Peloponnese or in Northern Greece. Not a\nlittle of the charm of Tenos or Myconos or Scyros lies in the fact\nthat the grand and impassive beauty of the earlier Greek sculpture may\nstill be seen in the living figures and faces of men and women: and if\nanyone would see in the flesh the burly, black-bearded type idealised\nin a Heracles, he need but go to the south of the Peloponnese, and\namong the Maniotes he will soon be satisfied: for there he will find\nnot merely an occasional example, as of reversion to an ancestral type,\nbut a whole tribe of swarthy, stalwart warriors, whose aspect seems to\njustify their claim that in proud, though poverty-stricken, isolation\nthey have kept their native peninsula free from alien aggression,\nand the old Laconian blood still pure in their veins. The ordinary\nGreek of the mainland, on the other hand, is usually of a mongrel and\nunattractive appearance; and in view of the marked difference of the\ntype in regions untouched by the Slavs, I cannot but impute his lack of\nbeauty to his largely Slavonic ancestry.\n\nYet even in the centre of the Peloponnese where the Slavonic influence\nhas probably been strongest, the pure Greek type is not wholly extinct.\nI remember a young man who acted as ostler and waiter and in all other\ncapacities at a small _khan_ on the road from Tripolitza to Sparta, who\nwould not have been despised as a model by Praxiteles; and elsewhere\ntoo, now and again, I have seen statuesque forms and classic features,\nless perfect indeed than his, but yet proclaiming beyond question an\nHellenic lineage; so that I should hesitate to say that in any part of\nGreece the population is as purely Slavonic as in Maina or many of the\nislands it is purely Greek.\n\nBut, as I think, the exact proportion of Slavonic and of Hellenic\nblood in the veins of the modern Greeks is not a matter of supreme\nimportance. Even if their outward appearance were universally and\ncompletely Slavonic, I would still maintain that they deserve the\nname of Greeks. Though their lineage were wholly Slavonic, their\nnationality, I claim, would still be Hellenic. For the nationality of\na people, like the personality of an individual, is something which\neludes definition but which embraces the mental and the moral as\nwell as the physical. A man\u2019s personality is not to be determined by\nknowledge of his family and his physiognomy alone; and similarly racial\ndescent and physical type are not the sole indices of nationality. Even\nif a purely Slavonic ancestry had dowered the inhabitants of Greece\nwith a purely Slavonic appearance, yet, if their thoughts and speech\nand acts were, as they are, Greek, I would still venture to call them\nGreek in nationality. _Ce n\u2019est que la peau dont l\u2019Ethiope ne change\npas._\n\nBut the people of modern Greece do not actually present so extreme\na case of acquired nationality. They are partly Greek in race: and\nif it should appear that they are wholly Greek in nationality, the\nexplanation must simply be that the character, no less than the\nlanguage, of their Hellenic ancestors was superior in vitality to that\nof the Slavs who intermarried with them, and alone has been transmitted\nto the modern Greek people.\n\nWhat, then, is the national character at the present day?\n\nThe first feature of it which casual conversation with any Greek will\nsoon bring into view is that narrow patriotism which was so remarkable\na trait in the Greeks of old time. If he be asked what is his native\nland (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b1), his answer will be, not Greece nor any of the larger\ndivisions of it, but the particular town or hamlet in which he happened\nto be born: and if in later life he change his place of abode, though\nhe live in his new home ten or twenty years, he will regard himself\nand be regarded by the native-born inhabitants as a foreigner (\u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2).\nOr again if a man obtain work for a short time in another part of\nthe country, or if a girl marry an inhabitant of a village half a\ndozen miles from her own, the departure is mourned with some of those\nplaintive songs of exile in which the popular muse delights. Nor are\nthere lacking historical cases in which this narrow love of country\nhas produced something more than fond lamentations; the boast of the\nManiotes that they have never acknowledged alien masters is in the\nmain a true boast, and it was pure patriotism which nerved them in\ntheir long struggle with the Turks for the possession of their rugged,\nbarren, storm-lashed home. It was patriotism too, narrow and proud,\nthat both sustained the heroic outlaws of Souli in their defiance of\nOttoman armies, and also,--because they disdained alliance with their\nGreek neighbours,--contributed to their final downfall.\n\nBut so tenacious and indomitable a courage is in modern, as it was in\nancient, Greece the exception rather than the rule. The men of Maina\nand of Souli are comparable to the Spartans: but in no period of Greek\nhistory has steadfast bravery been commonly displayed. Yet, in spite\nof the humiliating experiences of the late Graeco-Turkish war, the\nGreek people should not be judged devoid of courage. But theirs is a\ncourage which comes of impulse rather than of self-command; a courage\nwhich might prompt a charge as brilliant as that of Marathon, but could\nnot cheerfully face the hardships of a campaign; a courage which might\nturn a slight success into a victory, but could not save a retreat from\nbecoming a rout.\n\nIt must be acknowledged also that the rank and file are in general\nmore admirable than their officers. The bravery of the men, impulsive\nand short-lived though it be, is inspired by a real devotion of\nthemselves to a cause; whereas among the officers self-seeking and even\nself-saving are conspicuous faults. Even the really courageous leaders\nseldom have a single eye to the success of their arms. Their plans are\nmarred by petty jealousies. The same rivalries for the supreme command\nwhich embarrassed the Greeks of old in defending their liberty against\nPersia, were repeated in the struggles of the last century to throw off\nthe Turkish yoke. And if in both cases the Greeks were successful, in\nneither was victory due to the unity and harmony of their leaders, but\nrather to that passionate hatred of the barbarians which stirred the\npeople as a whole.\n\nIndeed, not only in war but in all conditions of life, any personal\neminence or distinction has been apt to turn the head of a Greek.\n\u2018The abundant enjoyment of power or wealth,\u2019 said the ancients not\nwithout knowledge of the national character, \u2018begets lawlessness and\narrogance\u2019; and in humbler phrase the modern proverb sums up the same\nqualities of the race,--\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c6\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u2018a good servant\nand a bad master.\u2019 In all periods of Greek history there have been\nfew men who have attained to power without abusing it. The honour\nof being returned to the Greek Parliament upsets the mental balance\nof a large number of deputies. Without any more intimate knowledge\nof politics than can be obtained from second-rate newspapers, they\nbelieve themselves called and qualified to lead each his own party,\nwith the result--so it is commonly said--that no government since the\nfirst institution of parliament has ever had an assured majority in\nthe House, and on an average there have been more than one dissolution\na year. The modern parliament is as unstable an institution as the\nancient ecclesia of Athens when there was no longer a Pericles to\ncontrol it, and its demagogues are as numerous.\n\nEven the petty eminence of a village schoolmaster proves to be too\ngiddy a pinnacle for many. Such an one thinks it necessary to support\nhis position--which owing to the Greek love of education is more highly\nrespected perhaps than in other countries--by a pretence of universal\nknowledge and a pedantry as lamentable as it is ludicrous. I remember\na gentleman who boasted the title of Professor of Ancient History in\nthe _gymnasium_ or secondary school of a certain town, who called to me\none day as I was passing a _caf\u00e9_ where he and some of his friends were\nsitting, and said that they were having a pleasant little discussion\nabout the first Triumvirate, and had recalled the names of Cicero and\nCaesar, but could not at the moment remember the third party. Could\nI help them? I hesitated a moment, and then resolved to risk it and\nsuggest, what was at least alliterative if not accurate, the name of\nCato. \u2018Of course,\u2019 he answered, \u2018how these things do slip one\u2019s memory\nsometimes!\u2019 Yet this Professor posed as an authority on many subjects\noutside his own province of learning, and frequently when I met him\nwould insist on talking dog-Latin with an Italian pronunciation, a\nmedium in which I found it difficult to converse.\n\nIn this readiness to discourse on any and every subject and to\ndisplay attainments in and out of season, he and the class of which\nhe is typical are the living images of the less respectable of the\nancient Sophists. And in pedantry of language too they fairly rival\ntheir famous prototypes. The movement in favour of an artificial\nrevival of ancient Greek has already been of long duration, and has\nhad a detrimental effect upon the modern language. The vulgar tongue\nhas a melodious charm, while many classical words, in the modern\npronunciation, are extremely harsh and uncouth. The object of the\nmovement is to secure an uniform \u2018pure\u2019 speech, as they call it,\napproximate to that of Plato or of Xenophon; and the method adopted is\nto mix up Homeric and other words of antiquarian celebrity with literal\nrenderings of modern French idioms, inserting datives, infinitives,\nand other obsolete forms at discretion. To aid in this movement is the\ntask and the delight of the schoolmasters: and such is their devotion\nto this linguistic sophistry, that they are not dismayed even by the\nambiguity arising from the use of ancient forms indistinguishable in\nmodern speech. The two old words \u1f21\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and \u1f51\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 have now no\ndifference in sound: yet the schoolmaster uses them and inculcates\nthe use of them, with the lamentable result that the children are not\ntaught to distinguish _meum_ and _tuum_ even in speech.\n\nAnd here again the character of the modern Greek reflects that of his\nancestors. Honesty and truthfulness are not the national virtues. To\nlie, or even to steal, is accounted morally venial and intellectually\nadmirable. It is a proof of superior mother-wit, than which no quality\nis more valued in the business of everyday life. Almost the only\nthings in Greece which have fixed prices are tobacco, newspapers, and\nrailway-tickets. The hire of a mule, the cost of a bunch of grapes,\nthe price of meat, the remuneration for a vote at the elections,--such\nmatters as these are the subject of long and vivacious bargaining, and\nif the money does not change hands on the spot, the bargain may be\nsmilingly repudiated and an attempt made, on any pretext which suggests\nitself, to extort more. Yet there is a certain charm in all this; for,\nif a man get his own price, it is not so much the amount of his profit\nwhich pleases him as his success in winning it; and if he fail, he\ntakes a smaller sum with perfect good humour and increased respect for\nthe man who has outwitted him. Anyone may be honest; but to be \u1f14\u03be\u03c5\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\nas they say, shrewd, wide-awake,--this is Greek and admirable. The\ncontrast of an Aristides with a Themistocles is the natural expression\nof Greek thought. Moral uprightness and mental brilliance are not to be\nexpected of one and the same man; and for the most part the Greeks now\nas in old time praise others for their justice and pride themselves on\ntheir cunning. The acme of cleverness is touched by him who can both\nprofit by dishonesty and maintain a reputation for sincerity.\n\nBut, while truthfulness and fair dealing are certainly rare, there\nis one relation in which the most scrupulous fidelity is unfailingly\nshown. The obligations of hospitality are everywhere sacred. The\nsecurity and the comfort of the guest are not in name only but in\nactual fact the first consideration of his host. However unscrupulous\na Greek may be in his ordinary dealings, he never, I believe, harbours\nfor one moment the idea of making profit out of the stranger who\nseeks the shelter of his roof. For hospitality in Greece, it must be\nremembered, means not the entertainment of friends and acquaintances\nwho are welcome for their own sake or from whom a return in kind may\nbe expected, but real \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03af\u03b1, a generous and friendly welcome to\na stranger unknown yesterday and vanished again to-morrow. To each\nunbidden chance-comer the door is always open. For lodging he may\nchance to have an incense-reeking room where the family _icons_ hang,\nor a corner of a cottage-floor barricaded against the poultry and\nother inmates; for food, hot viands rich in circumambient oil, or\nthree-month-old rye-bread softened in a cup of water; but among rich\nand poor alike he is certain of the best which there is to give. Even\nwhere there are inns available, the stranger will constantly find\nthat the first native of the place to whom he puts the Aristophanic\nenquiry \u1f45\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f40\u03bb\u03af\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9[39]--which inn is of least entomological\ninterest--will constitute himself not guide but host and will place the\nresources of his own house freely at the service of the chance-found\nvisitor.\n\nThe reception accorded by Eumaeus to Odysseus, in its revelation of\nhuman--and also of canine--character, differs in no respect from\nthat which may await any traveller at the present day. As Odysseus\napproached the swineherd\u2019s hut, \u2018suddenly the yelping dogs espied him,\nand with loud barking rushed upon him, but Odysseus guilefully sat\ndown and let fall his staff from his hand[40].\u2019 Such is the opening\nof the scene; and many, I suppose, must have wondered, as they read\nit, wherein consisted Odysseus\u2019 guilefulness. A shepherd of Northern\nArcadia resolved me that riddle. I had been attacked on a mountain-path\nby two or three of his dogs,--\u2018like unto wild beasts[41],\u2019 as Homer\nhas it,--and the combat may have lasted some few minutes when the\nshepherd thought fit to intervene. Sheep-dogs are of course valued in\nproportion to their ferocity towards any person or animal approaching\nthe flock, and a taste of blood now and again is said to keep them\non their mettle. Fortunately matters had not reached that point; but\nnone the less I suggested to the man that he might have bestirred\nhimself sooner. \u2018Oh,\u2019 he replied, \u2018if you are really in difficulties,\nyou should sit down\u2019; and when I showed some surprise, he explained\nthat anyone who is attacked by sheepdogs has only to sit down and let\ngo his walking-stick or gun or other offensive weapon, and the dogs,\nunderstanding that a truce has been called, will sit down round him and\nmaintain, so to speak, a peaceful blockade[42]. On subsequent occasions\nI tested the shepherd\u2019s counsel, beginning prudently with one dog only\nand, as I gained assurance, raising the number: it is uncomfortable[43]\nto remain sitting with a bloodthirsty Molossian hound at one\u2019s back,\nready to resume hostilities if any suspicious movement is made; but I\nmust own that, in my own fairly wide experience, Greek dogs, as they\nare _sans peur_ in combat, are also _sans reproche_ in observing a\ntruce. The traveller may fare worse than by following the example of\nguileful Odysseus.\n\nBut if the scene of the encounter be not a mountain-path but the\napproach to some cottage, the dogs\u2019 master will, like Eumaeus, hasten\nto intervene, \u2018chiding them and driving them this way and that with\na shower of stones[44],\u2019--for the Greek dog does not heed mere\nwords,--and again like Eumaeus will assure his visitor that he himself\nwould have been \u2018covered with shame[45]\u2019 if the dogs had done his guest\nany hurt. Then he will conduct his guest into his cottage and bid him\ntake his fill of bread and wine before he tells whence he is come\nand how he has fared[46]: for Greek hospitality spares the guest the\nfatigue of talking until he is refreshed. The visitor therefore sits\nat his ease, silent and patient, while his host catches and kills such\nbeast or fowl as he may possess, cuts up the flesh in small pieces,\nthreads these on a spit, and holds them over the embers of his fire\ntill they are ready to serve up[47]: similarly, in Homeric fashion,\nhe mixes wine and water[48]; and then, all the preparations being now\ncomplete, he urges his guest to the meal[49].\n\nThus the hospitality of to-day, in its details no less than in its\nspirit, recalls the hospitality of the Homeric age. The supreme virtue\nof the ancient Greek remains the supreme virtue of the modern, and a\nfamiliarity with the manners of the present day alone might suffice\nto explain why Paris who stole another man\u2019s wife was execrable but\nAdmetus who let his own wife die for him could yet win admiration. The\none broke the laws of hospitality; the other, by hiding his loss and\nentertaining his guest, upheld them.\n\nA comparative estimate, such as I have essayed, of the characters of\nGreeks of old and Greeks of to-day is perhaps evidence of a somewhat\nintangible nature to those who are not personally intimate with the\npeople: but no foreigner, even though he were totally ignorant of the\nmodern language, could chance upon one of the many festivals of the\ncountry without remarking that there, in humbler form, are re-enacted\nmany of the scenes of ancient days. The \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, as they call these\nfestivals,--diminutives, both in name and in form, of the ancient\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u03cd\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2,--present the same medley of religion, art, trading,\nathletics, and amusement which constituted the Olympian games. The\noccasion is most commonly some saint\u2019s-day, and a church or a sacred\nspring (\u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1) the centre of the gathering. Art is represented by\nthe contests of local poets or wits in improvising topical and other\nverses, and occasionally there is present one of the old-fashioned\nrhapsodes, whose number is fast diminishing, to recite to the\naccompaniment of a stringed instrument still called the \u03ba\u03b9\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1[50] the\nglorious feats of some patriot-outlaw (\u03ba\u03bb\u03ad\u03c6\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2) in defiance of the\nTurks. Then there are the pedlars and hucksters strolling to and fro or\nseated at their stalls, and ever crying their wares--fruit, sausages,\nconfectionery of strange hues and stranger taste, beads, knives, cheap\n_icons_ ranging in subject from likenesses of patron-saints to gaudy\nviews of hell, and all manner of tin-foil trinkets representing ships,\ncattle, and parts of the human body for dedication in the church. Then\nin some open space there will be a gathering of young men, running,\nwrestling, hurling the stone; yonder others, and with them the girls,\nindulge in the favourite recreation of Greece, those graceful dances,\nof which the best-known, the \u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2[51], and probably others too, are\na legacy from dancers of old time. It is impossible to be a spectator\nof such scenes without recognising that here, in embryonic form, are\nthe festivals of which the famous gatherings of Olympia and Nemea,\nDelphi and the Isthmus, were the full development.\n\nAnd it may well happen too that the observant onlooker will descry\nalso the rudiments of ancient drama. Often, as is natural in so\nmountainous and rugged a country, the only level dancing-place which\na village possesses is a stone-paved threshing-floor hewn out of the\nhill-side. Hither on any festal occasion, be it a saint\u2019s-day or one\nof the celebrations which naturally follow the ingathering of harvest\nor vintage, the dancers betake themselves. Here too a small booth\nor tent, still called \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03ae, is often rigged up, to which they can\nretire for rest or refreshment, while on the slopes above are ranged\nthe spectators. The circular threshing-floor is the _orchestra_,\nthe hill-side provides its tiers of seats, the dancers, who always\nsing while they dance, are the chorus; add only the village musician\ntwanging a sorry lyre, and in the intervals of dancing an old-fashioned\nrhapsode reciting some story of bygone days, or, it may be, two village\nwits contending in improvised pleasantries, and the rudiments of\nancient Tragedy or Comedy are complete.\n\nOther illustrations might easily be amassed. On March 1st the boys\nof Greece still parade the village-streets with a painted wooden\nswallow set on a flower-decked pole, and sing substantially the same\n\u2018swallow-song\u2019 (\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1)[52] as was sung in old time in Rhodes[53].\nOn May 1st the girls make wreaths of flowers and corn which, like the\nancient \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ce\u03bd\u03b7, must be left hanging over the door of the house till\nnext year\u2019s wreaths take their place. The fisherman still ties his oar\nto a single thole with a piece of rope or a thong of leather, as did\nthe mariners of Homer\u2019s age[54]. The farmer still drives his furrows\nwith an Hesiodic plough.\n\nSuch are a few of the survivals which bear witness to the genuinely\nHellenic nationality of the inhabitants of modern Greece: and last,\nbut not least, there is the language, which, albeit no index of race,\nis most cogent evidence of tradition. To the action of thought upon\nlanguage there corresponds a certain reaction of language upon thought:\nit is impossible to speak a tongue which contains, let us say, the\nword \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1 (modern Greek for a \u2018nymph\u2019) without possessing also an\nidea of the being whom that word denotes. Therefore even if the whole\npopulation of Greece were demonstrably of Slavonic race, the fact that\nit now speaks Greek would go far to support its claim to Hellenic\nnationality: for its adoption of the Greek language would imply its\nassimilation of Greek thought.\n\nBut, quite apart from the evidence of custom and language, the\noccasional perpetuation of the ancient Greek physical type and the\ngeneral survival of the ancient Greek character plainly forbid so\nextreme a supposition as that of Fallmerayer: no traveller familiar\nwith the modern Greek peasantry could entertain for a moment the idea\nthat at any period the whole of Greece became Slavonicized, but,\nwhatever might be the historical arguments for such a theory, would\nreject it, on the evidence of his own eyes, as ludicrously exaggerated.\nFusion of race, no doubt, there has been; but in that fusion the\nHellenic element must have been the most vital and persistent; for if\nthe present population of Greece is of mixed descent, in its traditions\nat least it is almost purely Hellenic.\n\n\n\u00a7 4. THE SURVIVAL OF PAGAN TRADITION.\n\nIt appears then that notwithstanding the immigration of Slavonic\nhordes, and notwithstanding also, it may be added, the influences\nexercised in later periods by \u2018Franks,\u2019 Genoese, Venetians, and Turks,\nthe traditions of the inhabitants of Greece still remain singularly\npure; and their claim to Hellenic nationality is justified by their\nlanguage, by their character, and by many secular aspects of their\ncivilisation. But in the domain of religion it might reasonably be\nexpected that a large change would have taken place. There is the\nobstinate fact, it may be thought, that the Greeks are now and have\nlong been Christian. Did not the new religion dispossess and oust the\nancient polytheism? Are we to look for pagan customs in the hallowed\nusages of the Greek Church? What can the simple Christian peasant of\nto-day, subject from his youth up to ecclesiastical influence, know of\nthe religion of his distant ancestors,--of those fundamental beliefs\nwhich guided their conduct towards gods and men in this life, and\ninspired their care for the dead?\n\nOn the conduct of man towards his fellow-men in this life the influence\nof Christianity appears to have been as great as that of paganism was\nsmall. Duty towards one\u2019s neighbour hardly came within the purview\nof Hellenic religion. If we look at the supreme acts of worship in\nancient times, we cannot fail to be struck by the disunion of the\nreligious and the ethical. A certain purity was no doubt required of\nthose who attended the mysteries of Eleusis; but by that purity was\nmeant physical cleanliness and, strangely enough, a pure use of the\nGreek language, just as much as any moral temperance or rectitude; and\nthe required condition was largely attained by the use or avoidance\nof certain foods and by bathing in the sea. Their cleanliness in fact\nwas of the same confused kind, half physical and half moral, as that\nwhich the inhabitants of Tenos were formerly wont, and perhaps still\ncontinue, to seek on S. John the Baptist\u2019s day (June 24) by leaping\nthrice through a bonfire and crying \u2018Here I leave my sins and my\nfleas[55]\u2019: and it was acquired by means equally material. There is\nnothing conspicuously ethical in such a purity as this.\n\nIf moreover, as has been well argued[56], a state of ecstasy was\nthe highest manifestation of religious feeling, and this spiritual\nexaltation was the deliberate aim and end of Bacchic and other orgies,\nit must be frankly avowed that religion in its highest manifestations\nwas not conducive to what we call morality. The means of inducing\nthe ecstatic condition comprised drunkenness, inhalation of vapours,\nwild and licentious dancing. With physical surexcitation came, or\nwas intended to come, a spiritual elevation such that the mind could\nvisualise the object of its desire[57] and worship, and enjoy a sense\nof unity therewith. On the savagery and debauchery which accompanied\nthese religious celebrations there is no need to enlarge. The _Bacchae_\nof Euripides, with all its passion for the beauty of holiness, is a\nstanding monument to the excesses of frenzy: and that these were no\nmere figment of the poet\u2019s imagination nor a transfiguration of rites\nlong obsolete, is proved by a single sentence of a sober enough writer\nof later times, \u2018The things that take place at nocturnal celebrations,\nhowever licentious they may be, although known to the company at large,\nare to some extent condoned by them owing to the drunkenness[58].\u2019\n\nThere were of course certain sects, such as the Orphic, who, in\nstrong contrast with the ordinary religion, upheld definite ethical\nstandards, preaching the necessity of purification from sin, and\nadvocating moral and even ascetic rules of life. Yet, in spite of\nthis, we find a certain amalgamation of Orphic and Bacchic mysteries.\nAnd why? Simply because both sects alike had a single end in view, a\nspiritual exaltation in which the soul might transcend the things of\nordinary life, and see and commune with its gods. What did it matter\nif the means to that end differed? The one sect might reduce the\npassions of the body by rigid abstinence; the other might deaden them\nwith a surfeit of their desire; but, whether by prostration or by\nsurexcitation, the same religious end was sought and gained, and that\nend justified means which we count immoral.\n\nIn effect the morality of a man\u2019s life counted for nothing as compared\nwith his religion. Participation in the mysteries ensured blessings\nhere and hereafter which an evil life would not forfeit nor a good\nlife, without initiation, earn. \u2018Thrice blessed they of men, who look\nupon these rites ere they go to Hades\u2019 home: for them alone is there\ntrue life there, and for the others nought but evil[59].\u2019 It was this\nthat made Diogenes scoffingly ask, \u2018What, shall the thief Pataecion\nhave a better lot than Epaminondas after death, because he has been\ninitiated[60]?\u2019 Seemingly religion and morality were to the Greek mind\ndivorced, or rather had never been wedded. Religion was concerned only\nwith the intercourse of man and god: the moral character of the man\nhimself and his relations with his fellows were outside the religious\nsphere.\n\nIndeed it would have been hard for the ancients to regard morality as\na religious obligation, when immorality was freely imputed to their\ngods. This was a real obstacle to the ethical improvement of the people\nat large, and was recognised as such by many thinkers. Pindar strove to\nexpurgate mythological stories which brought discredit on the morals\nof Olympus. Plato would have banished the evil records of Homeric\ntheology from his ideal state, and ridicules Musaeus for forming no\nmore lofty conception of future bliss than \u2018eternal drunkenness.\u2019\nEpicurus defended his own attitude towards the gods on the plea that\nthere was \u2018no impiety in doing away with the popular gods, but rather\nin attaching to the gods the popular ideas of them[61].\u2019 In effect, in\norder to reconcile religion with the teaching of ethics, the would-be\npreacher of morality had either openly to discard a large amount of the\npopular theology or else to have recourse to adaptation and mystical\ninterpretation of so artificial and arbitrary a kind that it could gain\nno hold upon the simple and spontaneous beliefs of the common-folk.\nYet even among the ordinary men of those days there must have been\nsome who, though they did not aspire to instruct their fellow-men,\nyet in hours of sober reason and cool judgement cannot have viewed\nunabashed the inconsistencies of a religion whose gods were stained\nwith human vices. But such thoughts, we may suppose, were swept away,\nas men approached their sanctuaries and their mysteries, by a flood of\nreligious fervour. Passion in such moments defeated reason. Emotion,\nsusceptibility, imagination, impetuosity, powers of visualisation\nregarded among western nations as the perquisite of the inebriate,\npowers of ecstasy not easily distinguished from hysteria,--such were\nthe mental conditions essential to the highest acts of worship; by\nthese, and not by sober meditation, the soul attained to the closest\ncommuning and fullest union with that god whose glory for the nonce\noutshone all pale remembrance of mere moral rectitude and alone was\nable to evoke every supreme emotion of his worshipper.\n\nIf then morality was ever to be imposed and sanctioned by religion,\na wholly new religion had to be found. This was the opportunity of\nChristianity. Paganism, in some of its most sacred rites, had availed\nitself even of immoral means to secure a religious end: Christianity\ngave to ethics a new and higher status, and was rather in danger of\nmaking religion wholly subservient to morality. That it was difficult\nto bring the first converts to the new point of view, is evident from\nthe rebukes administered by S. Paul to the Corinthians, who seem not\nonly to have indulged in many gross forms of vice in everyday life, but\neven to have made the most sacred of Christian services an occasion for\ngluttony and drunkenness[62].\n\nIn all then that concerns the ethical standards of the people, our\nstudy of modern Greece will contribute little to the understanding of\nancient thought or conduct. Christianity has fenced men about with a\nrigid moral code, and has exerted itself to punish those who break\nbounds. Duty towards man is now recognised as the complement of duty\ntowards God; and any one who by a notoriously evil life has outraged\nthe moral laws of conduct, is liable to be deprived by excommunication\nof the established means of worship. The frailties of the Greek\ncharacter remain indeed such as they always were: but now religion at\nleast enjoins, if it cannot always enforce, the observance of a moral\ncode which includes the eighth commandment, and Pataecion, though he go\nregularly to church, yet lacks something.\n\nBut while the Church had an open field in matters of morality and had\nno system of ethics based on Hellenic religion to combat in introducing\nher higher views of man\u2019s duty towards his fellow-men, in the province\nof pure religion and of all that concerns the relations of man with his\nGod or gods she necessarily encountered competition and opposition.\nPrimarily the contest between paganism and Christianity might have\nbeen expected to resolve itself into a struggle between polytheism\nand monotheism: but as a matter of fact that simple issue became\nconsiderably complicated.\n\nThe minds of the educated classes had become confused by the\nsubtleties of the Gnostics, who sought to find, in some philosophical\nbasis common to all religions, an intellectual justification for\naccepting Christianity without wholly discarding earlier religious\nconvictions. This however was a matter of theology rather than of\nreligion, appealing not to the heart but to the head: and so far as the\ncommon-folk were concerned we may safely say that such speculations\nwere above their heads.\nYet for them too the issue was confused in two ways. The first\ndisturbing factor was the attitude adopted by each of the two parties,\npagan and Christian, towards the object of the other\u2019s worship. The\npagans--so catholic are the sympathies of polytheism--were ready enough\nto welcome Christ into the number of their gods. Tertullian tells\nus that the emperor Tiberius proposed the apotheosis of Christ[63].\nHadrian is said to have built temples in his honour[64]. Alexander\nSeverus had in his private chapel statues of Christ, Abraham, and\nOrpheus[65]; and a similar association of Homer, Pythagoras, Christ,\nand S. Paul is noted by S. Augustine[66]. Since then there is no\nreason for supposing that the common-folk were more exclusive in\ntheir religious sympathies than the upper classes, it may safely be\ninferred that the average Pagan was willing to admit Christ to a place\namong the gods of Greece. The Christians on the other hand did not\nattack paganism by an utter denial of the existence of the old gods.\nThey sought rather to ridicule and discredit them by pointing out\nthe inconsistencies of pagan theology, and by ransacking mythology\nfor every tale of the vices and misdoings of its deities. They even\nappealed to the testimony of Homer himself to show that the so-called\ngods (\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af) of the Greek folk were mere demons (\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2)[67],--for\nsince Homer\u2019s day the latter word had lost caste. Such methods, had\nthey been wholly successful, might have produced similar results to\nthose which followed the conflict of two religions in the early ages of\nGreece. As the Titanic dynasty of gods had fallen before the Olympian\nZeus, and in their defeat had come to be accounted cruel and malicious\npowers rightly ousted from heaven by a more just and gracious deity,\nso too in turn might the whole number of the pagan gods have been\nreduced to the status of devils to act as a foil to the goodness of\nthe Christian God. But this did not happen. One reason perhaps was\nthat Christianity came provided with its own devil or devils, and the\npagans were naturally averse from placing the gods whom they had been\nwont to venerate in the same category with spirits so uncompromisingly\nevil. The main reason however must be found in the fact that the Church\nhad nothing to offer to the pagans in exchange for the countless\ngods of the old religion whom she was endeavouring to displace and\nto degrade. Indeed the real difficulty of the Christian Church was\nthe tolerant spirit of the Greek people. They would not acknowledge\nthat any feud existed. They were ready to worship the Christian God:\nbut they must have felt that it was unreasonable of the Christian\nmissionaries to ask them to give up all their old gods merely because\na new god had been introduced. Even if their gods were all that the\nChristians represented them to be--cruel, licentious, unjust--that was\nno reason for neglecting them; rather it furnished a stronger motive\nfor propitiating them and averting their wrath by prayer and sacrifice.\nTolerant themselves, they must have resented a little the intolerance\nof the new religion.\n\nSuch being the attitude of the two parties, it may be doubted whether\nthe Church would have made much headway in Greece, had it not been for\na fresh development in her own conditions. And this development was the\nsecond disturbing factor in what should have been the simple struggle\nbetween monotheism and polytheism. Christianity, as understood by the\nmasses, became polytheistic on its own account.\n\nIt is true that the authorities of the Greek Church have always taught\nthat the angels and saints are not to be worshipped in the same sense\nas God. Ecclesiastical doctrine concedes to them no power to grant the\npetitions of men at their own will: they can act as intermediaries\nonly between man and the Almighty; yet while they cannot in their\nown might fulfil the requests which they hear, their intervention as\nmessengers to the throne of God is deemed to enhance the value of man\u2019s\nprayers and wellnigh to ensure their acceptance. But such a doctrine\nis naturally too subtle for the uninstructed common-folk: and just as\nChrist had been admitted to the ranks of the Greek gods, so were the\nsaints, it would seem, accepted as lesser deities or perhaps heroes.\nWhatever their precise status may have been, they at any rate became\nobjects of worship; and a religion which admits many objects of worship\nbecomes necessarily a form of polytheism.\n\nNow while the Church did not sanction this state of things by her\ndoctrine, there can be no doubt that she condoned it by the use to\nwhich she put it. The attempt to crush paganism had so far failed, and\nthere was no longer any thought of a combat _\u00e0 outrance_ between the\ntwo religions. Violence was to give way to diplomacy; and the chief\ninstrument of the Church\u2019s diplomacy was the worship of the saints. It\nbecame her hope to supplant paganism by substituting for the old gods\nChristian saints of similar names and functions; and the effects of\nthis policy are everywhere in evidence in modern Greece.\n\nThus Dionysus was displaced by S. Dionysius, as a story still current\nin Greece testifies. \u2018Once upon a time S. Dionysius was on his way to\nNaxos: and as he went he espied a small plant which excited his wonder.\nHe dug it up, and because the sun was hot sought wherewith to shelter\nit. As he looked about, he saw the bone of a bird\u2019s leg, and in this\nhe put the plant to keep it safe. To his surprise the plant began to\ngrow, and he sought again a larger covering for it. This time he found\nthe leg-bone of a lion, and as he could not detach the plant from the\nbird\u2019s leg, he put both together in that of the lion. Yet again it\ngrew and this time he found the leg-bone of an ass and put plant and\nall into that. And so he came to Naxos. And when he came to plant the\nvine--for the plant was in fact the first vine--he could not sever it\nfrom the bones that sheltered it, but planted them all together. Then\nthe vine grew and bore grapes and men made wine and drank thereof. And\nfirst when they drank they sang like birds, and when they drank more\nthey grew strong as lions, and afterwards foolish as asses[68].\u2019\n\nThe disguise of the ancient god is thin indeed. His name is changed by\nan iota, but his character not a jot. S. Dionysius is god of the vine,\nand even retains his predecessor\u2019s connexion with Naxos. It is perhaps\nnoteworthy too that in Athens the road which skirts the south side of\nthe Acropolis and the theatre of Dionysus is now called the street of\nS. Dionysius the Areopagite. I was once corrected by a Greek of average\neducation for speaking of the theatre of Dionysus instead of ascribing\nit to his saintly namesake.\n\nDemeter again, although as we shall see later she still survives as\na distinct personality, has been for the most part dispossessed by S.\nDemetrius. His festival, which falls in October and is therefore remote\nfrom harvest-time, is none the less celebrated with special enthusiasm\namong the agricultural classes; marriages too are especially frequent\non that day[69].\n\nSimilarly Artemis, though she too is still known to the common-folk in\nsome districts, has in the main handed over her functions to a saint of\nthe other sex, Artemidos. Theodore Bent has recorded a good instance of\nthis from the island of Keos (modern Zea). There is a belief throughout\nGreece that weakly children who show signs of wasting have been \u2018struck\nby the Nereids,\u2019--by nymphs, that is, of any kind, whether terrestrial\nor marine. \u2018In Keos,\u2019 says Bent, \u2018S. Artemidos is the patron of these\nweaklings, and the church dedicated to him is some little way from the\ntown on the hill-slopes; thither a mother will take a child afflicted\nby any mysterious wasting, \u201cstruck by the Nereids,\u201d as they say. She\nthen strips off its clothes and puts on new ones, blessed by the\npriest, leaving the old ones as a perquisite to the Church; and then\nif perchance the child grows strong, she will thank S. Artemidos for\nthe blessing he has vouchsafed, unconscious that by so doing she is\nperpetuating the archaic worship of Artemis, to whom in classical times\nwere attached the epithets \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03be; and\nnow the Ionian idea of the fructifying and nourishing properties of the\nEphesian Artemis has been transferred to her Christian namesake[70].\u2019\nIt might have been added that in this custom are reflected not only\nthose general attributes of the tendance of children which Artemis\nshared with many other deities, but possibly also her power to undo any\nmischief wrought by her handmaidens, the nymphs[71].\n\nAgain there is every reason to suppose that S. Elias[72] whose chapels\ncrown countless hilltops is merely the Christian successor to Helios,\nthe Sun. The two names, which have only a moderate resemblance in the\nnominative, coincide for modern pronunciation in the genitive; and the\nfrequency with which that case was needed in speaking of the church or\nthe mountain-peak dedicated to one or the other may have facilitated\nthe transition. Besides inheriting the mountain sanctuaries at which\nthe worship of the Sun may have persisted from a very early age, S.\nElias has also taken over the chariot of his predecessor, and thunder\nis sometimes attributed to the rolling of its wheels.\n\nIn other cases, without any resemblance of names, identity of\nattributes or functions suggested the substitution of saint for pagan\ndeity. Hermes who in old times was the chief \u2018angel\u2019 or messenger\nof the immortals (\u1f04\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd) was naturally succeeded by the\narchangel Michael, upon whom therefore devolves the duty of escorting\nmen\u2019s souls to Hades; and to this day the men of Maina tell how the\narchangel, with drawn sword in his hand instead of the wand of his\nprototype, may be seen passing to and fro at the mouth of the caves of\nTaenarus through which Heracles made his ascent with Cerberus from the\nlower world, and which is still the best-known descent thereto. The\nsupplanting of Hermes by Michael is well illustrated in the sphere of\nart also by a curious gem. The design is an ordinary type of Hermes\nwith his traditional cap, and at his side a cock, the symbol of\nvigilance and of gymnastic sport; by a later hand has been engraved\nthe name \u2018Michael\u2019; the cock remained to be interpreted doubtless as\nthe Christian symbol of the awakening at the last day of them that\nsleep[73].\n\nThe conversion of pagan temples or of their sites to the purposes of\nChristianity tells the same tale. The virgin goddess of Athens ceded\nthe Parthenon to the Blessed Virgin of the Christians. The so-called\nTheseum, whether Theseus or Heracles was its original occupant, was\nfitly made over to the warrior S. George: but none the less what seems\nto have been an old pagan festival, known as the \u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1 (Latin\n_rosalia_)[74], continues to this day to be celebrated with dancing and\nfeasting in its precincts. The Church of the Annunciation at Tenos, so\nfamous throughout the Greek world for its miracles of healing, stands\non the foundations of Poseidon\u2019s ancient sanctuary, and includes in\nits precincts a holy spring (\u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1) whose healing virtues, we can\nhardly doubt, were first discovered by the pagans: for Poseidon was\nworshipped in Tenos under the title of the \u2018healer\u2019 (\u1f30\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2)[75].\nIndeed throughout the length and breadth of the land the traveller\nwill find churches built with the material of the old temples or\nsuperimposed upon their foundation, and cannot fail to detect therein\nevidence of a deliberate policy on the part of the Church.\n\nBut in her attempts to be conciliatory she became in fact compromised.\nIt was politic no doubt to encourage the weaker brethren by building\nchurches on sites where they had long been wont to worship: it was\npolitic to smooth the path of the common-folk by substituting for the\ngod whom they had worshipped a patron-saint of like name or attributes.\nBut in so doing the Church practically condoned polytheism. She drove\nout the old gods from their temples made with hands, but did not ensure\nthe obliteration of them from men\u2019s hearts. The saints whom she set\nup in the place of the old deities were certain to acquire the rank\nof gods in the estimation of the people and, despite the niceties of\necclesiastical doctrine, to become in fact objects of frank and open\nworship. The adoption of the old places of worship made it inevitable\nthat the old associations of the pagan cults should survive and blend\nthemselves with the new ideas, and that the churches should more often\nacquire prestige from their heathen sites than themselves shed a new\nlustre of sanctity upon them. In effect, paganism was not uprooted to\nmake room for the planting of Christianity, but served rather as an\nold stock on which a new and vigorous branch, capable indeed of fairer\nfruit but owing its very vitality to alien sap, might be engrafted.\n\nBitterly and despondently did the early Fathers of the Church, and\nabove all S. John Chrysostom, complain of the inveteracy of pagan\ncustoms within the pale of the Church, while a kind of official\nrecognition was given to many superstitions which were clearly outside\nthat pale, if only by the many forms of exorcism directed against\nthe evil eye or prescribed for the cure of those possessed by pagan\npowers of evil[76]. For illustration we need not fall back upon the\npast history of the Greek Church; even to-day she has not succeeded in\nliving down the consequences of her whilom policy of conciliation.\nThe common-folk indeed profess and call themselves Christian; their\npriesthood is a Christian priesthood; their places of worship are\nChristian churches; they make the sign of the cross at every turn;\nand the names of God and Christ and the Virgin are their commonest\nejaculations. But with all this external Christianity they are as pagan\nand as polytheistic in their hearts as were ever their ancestors.\nBy their acceptance of Christianity they have increased rather than\ndiminished their number of gods: in their conception of them and\nattitude towards them they have made little advance since the Homeric\nAge: and practically all the religious customs most characteristic of\nancient paganism, such as sacrifice, the taking of auspices, and the\nconsultation of oracles, continue with or without the sanction of the\nChurch down to the present day.\n\nThese are strong statements to make concerning even the humblest and\nmost ignorant members of the Holy Orthodox Church: but I shall show, I\nthink, that they do not exceed the warranty of facts.\n\nFirst of all then the peasant believes himself to be ever compassed\nabout by a host of supernatural beings, who have no relation with his\nChristian faith, and some of whom he unconsciously acknowledges, by the\nvery names that he applies to them, as \u2018pagan\u2019 beings and \u2018outside\u2019 the\nChristian fold[77]. To all of these--and they are a motley crew, gods\nand demons, fairies and dragons--he assigns severally and distinctly\ntheir looks, their dispositions, their habitations, and their works. To\nsome of them he prays and makes offerings; against others he arms and\nfortifies himself in the season of their maleficence; but all of them,\nwhether for good or ill, are to him real existent beings; no phantoms\nconjured up by trepidation of mind, but persons whose substance is\nproved by sight and hearing and touch.\n\nNothing is more amazing in the peasantry of modern Greece than their\nfamiliarity with these various beings. More than once I have overheard\ntwo peasants comparing notes on the ghostly fauna of their respective\ndistricts; and the intimate and detailed character of their knowledge\nwas a revelation in regard to their powers of visualisation. It is the\nmountaineers and the mariners who excel in this; but even the duller\nfolk of the lowlands see much that is hidden from foreign eyes. Once\nhowever I did see a nymph--or what my guide took for one--moving\nabout in an olive-grove near Sparta; and I must confess that had I\npossessed an initial faith in the existence of nymphs and in the\ndanger of looking upon them, so lifelike was the apparition that I\nmight have sworn as firmly as did my guide that it was a nymph that we\nhad seen, and might have required as strong a dose as he at the next\ninn to restore my nerves. The initial faith in such things, which the\nchild acquires from its mother, is no doubt an important factor in the\nvisualisation; but it is certainly strange that often in Greece not\none man only but several together will see an apparition at the same\nmoment, and even agree afterwards as to what they saw.\n\nThese beings then are not the mere fanciful figures of old wives\u2019\nfables, but have a real hold upon the peasant\u2019s belief and a firm place\nin his religion. To the objects of Christian worship or veneration--God\nand Christ and the Virgin together with the archangels and all the host\nof saints--have been accorded the highest places and chiefest honours:\nbut beside them, or rather below them, yet feared and honoured too,\nstand many of the divine personalities of the old faith, recognised and\ndistinguished still. Artemis, Demeter, and Charon, as well as Nymphs\nand Gorgons, Lamiae and Centaurs, have to be reckoned with in the\nconduct of life; while in folk-stories the memory at least of other\ndeities still survives. To these remnants of ancient mythology the\nnext chapter will be devoted; the purely pagan element in the modern\npolytheism may be sufficiently illustrated here by a few curious cases\nof the use even of the word \u2018god\u2019 (\u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2) in reference to other than the\nGod of Christendom.\n\nIn Athens, down to recent times, there was a fine old formula of\nblessing in vogue--and who shall say but that among the simpler people\nit may still be heard?--which combined impartially the one God and the\nmany:--\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c2\u2019 \u1f00\u03be\u03b9\u1ff6\u03c3\u1fc3 \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u1fc3\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2[78],\n\u2018God fit thee to find favour with gods and men!\u2019 In the island of\nSyra, according to Bent[79], it was \u2018a common belief amongst the\npeasants that the ghosts of the ancient Greeks come once a year from\nall parts of Greece to worship at Delos, ... and even to-day they\nwill reverently speak of the \u201cgod in Delos.\u201d\u2019 Another writer mentions\na similar expression as used in several parts of the mainland, though\nonly it would seem as an ejaculation, \u03b8\u03b5\u1f72 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039a\u03c1\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 or \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\n\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039a\u03c1\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u2018by the god of Crete[80]!\u2019 In the island of Santorini (the\nancient Thera) I personally encountered a still more striking case\nof out-spoken polytheism. I chanced one day upon a very old woman\nsquatting on the extreme edge of the cliff above the great flooded\ncrater which, though too deep for anchorage, serves the main town of\nthe island as harbour--a place more fascinating in its hideousness than\nany I have seen. Wondering at her dangerous position, I asked her what\nshe was doing; and she replied simply enough that she was making rain.\nIt was two years since any had fallen, and as she had the reputation\nof being a witch of unusual powers and had procured rain in previous\ndroughts, she had been approached by several of the islanders who were\nanxious for their vineyards. Moreover she had been prepaid for her\nwork--a fact which spoke most eloquently for the general belief in\nher; for the Greek is slow enough (as doubtless she knew) to pay for\nwhat he has got, and never prepays what he is not sure of getting.\nTrue, her profession had its risks, she said; for on one occasion, the\nonly time that her spells had failed, some of her disappointed clients\nwhose money she had not returned tried to burn her house over her one\nnight while she slept. But business was business. Did I want some rain\ntoo? To ensure her good will and further conversation, I invested a\ntrifle, and tried to catch the mumbled incantations which followed\non my behalf. Of these however beyond a frequent invocation of the\nVirgin (\u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5) and a few words about water and rain I could catch\nnothing; but I must acknowledge that her charms were effectual, for\nbefore we parted the thunder was already rolling in the distance, and\nthe rain which I had bought spoilt largely the rest of my stay in the\nisland. The incantations being finished, she became more confidential.\nShe would not of course let a stranger know the exact formula which she\nemployed; that would mar its efficacy: she vouchsafed to me however\nwith all humility the information that it was not by her own virtue\nthat she caused the rain, but through knowing \u2018the god above and\nthe god below\u2019 (\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f04\u03bd\u03c9 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc). The latter indeed had\nlong since given up watering the land; he had caused shakings of the\nearth and turned even the sea-water red. The god above also had once\nrained ashes when she asked for water, but generally he gave her rain,\nsometimes even in summer-time. One thing she could not make out--who\nwas the god that caused the thunder; did I know? I evaded the question,\nand our theological discussion went no further, for the god of thunder\nwas making his voice heard more threateningly, and the old witch would\nnot stay to make his acquaintance at closer quarters.\n\nThe physical interpretation of these references to the god above and\nthe god below is not difficult. At the present day there are said to\nbe three springs, and three only, in the whole island; nor are they of\nmuch use to the inhabitants; indeed the only one which I saw was dry\nsave for a scanty moisture barely sufficient to keep the rock about\nit green and mossy: and in fact the population depends entirely upon\nrain-water stored up in large underground cisterns or reservoirs.\nClearly the god below no longer gives water; but that there may have\nbeen more spring-water prior to the great eruptions of 1866 is very\nprobable; for the people still call certain dry old torrent-beds by\nwhich the island is intersected \u2018rivers\u2019 (\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03af), and real rivers\nwith water in them figure also in several of the local folk-stories.\nThe perversity of the god above in sending ashes on one occasion\ninstead of rain may also be understood in reference to the same\neruptions, of which the old woman gave me a vivid description.\n\nBut the theology itself is more interesting than its material basis.\nThis witch--a good Christian, they told me, but a little mad, with a\nmadness however of which sane vine-growers were eager enough to avail\nthemselves--acknowledged certainly three gods: the unknown thunder-god\nwas clearly distinct from the god of the rain who was known to her: and\nthere was also the god of the waters under the earth, in whose service\nshe had perhaps followed the calling of a water-finder, and to whom she\nascribed, as did the ancients to Poseidon, the shaking of the earth.\n\nPolytheism then even in its purely pagan form is not yet extinct in\nGreece. In the disguise of Christianity, we shall see, it is everywhere\ntriumphant.\n\nAmong the Christian objects of worship--for I have already explained\nthat by the common-folk the saints are worshipped as deities--the\nTrinity and the Virgin occupy the highest places, rivalled perhaps\nhere and there by some local saint of great repute for miracles, but\nnowhere surpassed. It is the Virgin indeed who, in Pashley\u2019s opinion,\n\u2018is throughout Greece the chief object of the Christian peasant\u2019s\nworship[81]\u2019; and certainly, I think, more numerous and more various\npetitions are addressed to her than to any person of the Trinity or\nto any saint. But the Trinity, or at any rate God (\u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2) and Christ\n(\u1f41 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2), as the peasants say,--for the Holy Ghost is hardly a\npersonality to them and is rarely named except in doxologies and formal\ninvocations--are of almost equal importance, and are so closely allied\nwith the Virgin that it is difficult to draw distinctions.\n\nBut while the Church has thus secured the first place for her most\nvenerated figures, the influence of pagan feeling is clearly seen in\nthe popular conception of this \u2018God.\u2019 His position is just such as\nthat of Zeus in the old _r\u00e9gime_. He is little more than the unnamed\nruler among many other divinities. His sway is indeed supreme and he\nexercises a general control; but his functions are in a certain sense\nlimited none the less, and his special province is the weather only.\n\u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f55\u03b5\u03b9, said the ancients, and the moderns re-echo their thought in\nwords of the same import, \u03b2\u03c1\u03ad\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2, \u2018God is raining,\u2019 or \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2\n\u1fe5\u03af\u03c7\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc, \u2018God is throwing water[82].\u2019 So too the coming and going\nof the daylight is described as an act of God; \u1f14\u03c6\u03b5\u03be\u03b5, or \u1f10\u03b2\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5,\n\u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2, say the peasants, \u2018God has dawned\u2019 or \u2018has darkened.\u2019 When it\nhails, it is God who \u2018is plying his sieve,\u2019 \u1fe5\u03b5\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9[83] \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2.\nWhen it thunders, \u2018God is shoeing his horse,\u2019 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03b3\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03cc \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5,\nor, according to another version[84], \u2018the hoofs of God\u2019s horse are\nringing,\u2019 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u0398\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6. Or again the roll\nof the thunder sometimes suggests quite another idea; \u2018God is rolling\nhis wine-casks,\u2019 \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5[85], or \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5.\nAnd once again, because a Greek wedding cannot be celebrated without a\nlarge expenditure of gunpowder, the booming of the thunder suggests to\nsome that \u2018God is marrying his son\u2019 or \u2018God is marrying his daughters,\u2019\n\u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f51\u03b3\u03b9\u03cc \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5[86], or \u03c4\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03b8\u03c5\u03b3\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5[87].\n\nSuch expressions as these[88] are in daily use among the Greek\npeasantry: and nothing could reveal more frankly the purely pagan\nand anthropomorphic conception of God which everywhere prevails. The\nGod of Christendom is indistinguishable from the Zeus of Homer. A\nline from a Cretan distich, in which God is described as \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c6\u03b9\u1fb7 \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u1fb7 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03c1\u03ad\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9[89], \u2018He that gathereth the clouds\nand thundereth and raineth,\u2019 exhibits a popular conception of the chief\ndeity unchanged since Zeus first received the epithets \u03bd\u03b5\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb\u03b7\u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2\nand \u1f51\u03c8\u03b9\u03b2\u03c1\u03b5\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u2018cloud-gatherer,\u2019 \u2018thunderer on high.\u2019\n\nBut even in the province of the weather God has not undivided control.\nThe winds are often regarded as persons acting at their own will; and\nof the north wind in particular men speak with respect as Sir Boreas\n(\u1f41 \u03ba\u1f7a\u03c1 \u0392\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u032f\u03ac\u03c2), for as in Pindar\u2019s time he is still \u2018king of the\nwinds[90].\u2019 So too the whirlwind is the passing of the Nereids, and the\nwater-spout marks the path of the Lamia of the sea. Even the thunder\nis not always the work of God, but some say that the prophet Elias is\n\u2018driving his chariot,\u2019 or \u2018pursuing the dragon.\u2019 The more striking and\nirregular phenomena in short are governed by the caprice of lesser\ndeities--Christian saints or pagan powers--while God directs the more\norderly march of nature.\n\nWhen however we turn from the external world to the life of man, we\nfind the functions of the supreme God even more closely circumscribed\nor--to put it in another way--more generally delegated to others. The\ndaily course of human life with all its pursuits and passions is under\nthe joint control of the saints and some of the old Hellenic deities.\nOf the latter, as I have said, another chapter must treat: but it\nshould be remembered that the peasant does not draw a hard and fast\nline of distinction between the two classes with whom for clearness\u2019\nsake I am bound to deal separately. Thus Charon in many of the\nfolk-songs which celebrate his doings is made to represent himself as a\nmessenger of God, charged with the duty of carrying off some man\u2019s soul\nand unable to grant a respite[91]. He is occasionally addressed even\nas Saint Charon[92]; and his name constantly occurs in the epitaphs of\ncountry churchyards. A story too in Bernhard Schmidt\u2019s collection[93]\nillustrates well the way in which pagan and Christian elements are thus\ninterwoven:--\n\n\u2018There was once an old man who had been good his whole life through. In\nhis old age therefore he had the fortune to see his good angel (\u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03c2\n\u1f04\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5); who said to him--for he loved him well--\u201cI will tell thee\nhow thou mayest be fortunate. In such and such a hill is a cave; go\nthou in there and ever onward till thou comest to a great castle. Knock\nat the gate, and when it is opened to thee thou wilt see a tall woman\nbefore thee, who will straightway welcome thee and ask thee of thine\nage and business and estate. Answer only that thou art sent by me: then\nwill she know the rest.\u201d Even so did the old man: and the woman within\nthe earth gave unto him a tablecloth and bade him but spread it out and\nsay \u201cIn the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,\u201d\nand lo! everything that he wished would be found thereon. And thus it\ncame to pass.\n\n\u2018Now when the old man had oft made use of it, it came into his heart to\nbid the king unto his house: who, when he saw the wonder-working cloth,\ntook it from the old man. But because he was no virtuous man, the cloth\ndid not its task in his hands; wherefore he threw it out of the window\nand straightway it turned to dust. So the old man went again to the\nwoman in the hill, and she gave him this time a hen that laid a golden\negg every day. When the king heard thereof, he had the hen too taken\naway from the old man. Howbeit in his keeping she laid not, and so he\nthrew the hen also out of window, and she likewise turned to dust. So\nin his anger he bade seize the old man forthwith and cut off his head.\n\n\u2018But scarce was this done when there appeared before the king the\nMistress of the Earth and of the Sea--for she was the woman in the\nhill--and when she had told him in brief words what awaited him after\nthis life in requital for his wickedness, she stamped with her foot\nupon the ground, which swallowed up the castle with the king and all\nthat was therein. But the old man that was slain had entered into\nParadise.\u2019\n\nIn this story the Mistress of the Earth and of the Sea (\u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6\n\u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2) is, as we shall see later[94], none other than\nDemeter: but pagan as she is, she works in accord with the good angel\n(who is evidently her inferior), and orders the old man to invoke the\nTrinity.\n\nThus the peasant does not conceive of any antagonism between his pagan\nand his Christian objects of worship; and both classes are equally\ndeserving of study by those interested in ancient Greek religion.\nFor while every minutest trait or detail of the modern peasant\u2019s\nconception of those ancient deities, who, though despoiled of temples\nand organised worship, still survive, may throw some new ray of light\non the divine personalities and the myths of old time, yet a more\nbroad and comprehensive view of the outlines of ancient religion may\nbe obtained by contemplating the worship of Christian saints who,\nthough deficient often in personal significance, nevertheless by their\npossession of dedicated shrines and of all the apparatus of a formal\ncult occupy more exactly the position of the old gods and heroes.\n\nThe saints then, as I have remarked above, have a large share in the\ncontrol of man\u2019s daily life. The whole religious sense of the people\nseems to demand a delegation of the powers of one supreme God to many\nlesser deities, who, for the very reason perhaps that they are lower\nin the scale of godhead, are more accessible to man. Under the name of\nsaints lies, hardly concealed, the notion of gods. In mere nomenclature\nChristianity has had its way; but none of the old tendencies of\npaganism have been checked. The current of worship has been turned\ntowards many new personalities; but the essence of that worship is the\nsame. The Church would have its saints be merely mediators with the one\nGod; but popular feeling has made of them many gods; their locality and\nscope of action are defined in exactly the old way; vows are made to\nthe patron-saint of such and such a place; invocations are addressed\nto him in virtue of a designated power or function.\n\nLocal titles are often derived merely from the town or district in\nwhich the church stands, as Our Lady of Tenos, or S. Gerasimos of\nCephalonia. In other cases they have reference to the surroundings\nof the sanctuary. The chapel of the Virgin in the monastery of\nMegaspelaeon consists of a large cave at the foot of some towering\ncliffs, and the dedication is to our Lady of the Golden Cave (\u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1\n\u03c7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03c3\u03c0\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03ce\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1). In this case the word \u2018golden\u2019 is an imaginative\naddition, for the interior is peculiarly dark: but the dedication has\nbeen borrowed, owing to the repute of the original shrine, by churches\nwhich have not even a cave to show. In Amorgos S. George has the title\nof Balsamites, derived from the balsam which covers the hill-side on\nwhich stands his church. In Paros several curious dedications are\nmentioned by Bent, which he renders as Our Lady of the Lake, Our Lady\nof the Unwholesome Place, and S. George of the Gooseberry[95]. In\nAthens there is a church of which the present dedication is said to be\ndue to a fire which blackened the _icon_ of the Virgin, who is known\non this account as Our smoke-blackened Lady (\u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c0\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03b1), or,\nit may be, Our Lady of the smoky head, according as the second half of\nthe compound is connected with the Turkish word for \u2018black\u2019 or the now\nobsolete Greek word \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1, \u2018head[96].\u2019\n\nTitles denoting functions are equally numerous and quaint. In Rhodes\nthe Archangel Michael is invoked as \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, patron of the\nwine-press[97]. S. Nicolas, who has supplanted Poseidon, often assumes\nthe simple title of \u2018sailor\u2019 (\u03bd\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2). S. John the Hunter (\u03ba\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u03cc\u03c2)\nowns a monastery on Mt Hymettus. In Cimolus there is a church of Our\nGuiding Lady (\u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u1f41\u03b4\u03b7\u03b3\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1)[98]. SS. Costas and Damien, the\nphysicians, are known as the Moneyless (\u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9), because their\nservices are given gratis. S. George at Argost\u00f3li has been dubbed the\nDrunkard (\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2)[99]--thus furnishing a notable parallel to the\nhero celebrated in old time at Munychia as \u1f00\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2[100]--because\non his day, Nov. 3rd, the new wine is commonly tapped and there is much\ndrinking in his honour.\n\nIn other cases the actual name of the saint has determined his powers\nor character without further epithet. S. Therapon is invoked for all\nkinds of healing (\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd): S. Eleutherios (with an echo possibly\nof Eilythuia) to give deliverance (\u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1) to women in childbirth:\nS. James, in Melos, owing to a phonetic corruption of \u1f38\u03ac\u03ba\u03c9\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 into\n\u1f0c\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, to cure deafness[101]. S. Elias, the successor of the sun-god\n(\u1f25\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2), has power over drought and rain. S. Andrew (\u1f08\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03ad\u03b1\u03c2) is\nimplored to make weakly children \u2018strong\u2019 (\u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2). S. Maura, in\nAthens, requires that no sewing be done on her day under pain of warts\n(locally known as \u03bc\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2), which if incurred can only be cured by an\napplication of oil from her lamp[102]. S. Tryphon resents any twisting\n(\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ae\u03c6\u03c9) of thread, as in spinning, on his day; and on the festival of\nS. Symeon expectant mothers must touch no utensil of daily toil, above\nall nothing black; for S. Symeon \u2018makes marks\u2019 (\u1f41 \u1f0c\u03ca \u03a3\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u1f7c\u03bd \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9),\nand a birth-mark would inevitably appear on the child. If however a\nwoman offend unwittingly, she must lay her hands at once on that part\nof the body where the birth-mark will be least disfiguring to the child.\n\nThese are only a small selection of the saints whom the peasant seeks\nto propitiate, and it may be noted in passing that among them there\nare some characters, as among the ancient deities, either immoral as\nS. George the Drunkard, or unamiable as S. Maura, S. Tryphon, and S.\nSymeon. But a better idea of the multitude of the popular deities may\nperhaps be conveyed by giving a list of those worshipped in a single\nisland with the functions there ascribed to them. Here is the catalogue\ngiven by a native of Cythnos[103]. The Virgin (\u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1) is invoked on\nany and every occasion, and the SS. Anargyri (Costas and Damien) in\nall cases of illness. S. Pantele\u00ebmon is a specialist in eye-diseases,\nS. Eleutherios in obstetrics, S. Modestes in veterinary work, S.\nVlasios in ulcers etc. S. Charalampes and S. Varvara (\u0392\u03b1\u03c1\u03b2\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1) deliver\nfrom pestilences, and S. Elias from drought. The power of protecting\nchildren from ailments is ascribed to S. Stylianos, and that of saving\nsailors from the perils of the sea to S. Nicolas, S. Sostes, and the\nSS. Akindyni (\u1f00\u03ba\u03af\u03bd\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9). S. Tryphon deals with noxious insects, S.\nJohn the Baptist with ague, S. Menas with loss of goods, S. Paraskeve\n(Friday) with headache: while S. Aekaterine (Catherine) and S.\nAthanasios assist anxious mothers to marry off their daughters.\n\nAs in the multiplicity of the objects of worship, so too in the mental\nattitude of the worshipper, there is little change since first were\nwritten the words \u03b4\u1ff6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03af\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9, \u2018Gifts win the gods.\u2019 There are\ncertain great occasions, it is true, now as in old days, on which\nreligious feeling attains a higher level, and the mercenary expectation\nof blessings is forgotten in whole-hearted adoration of the blesser.\nBut in general a spirit of bargaining tempers the peasant\u2019s prayer, and\na return is required for services rendered. A sketch of the religious\nsentiments of the Sphakiotes given by the head of a Cretan monastery\nis worth reproducing, for it is typical of the whole Greek folk. \u2018The\nfaith,\u2019 he writes, \u2018of these highlanders in Jesus Christ is sincere\nin every way, reverent, deep-seated, and unshaken, but unfortunately\nit is not free from superstitious fancies which mar this otherwise\ngreat merit. Many of them are fully persuaded that God, Our Lady, and\nthe Saints go to and fro unseen above their heads, watch each man\u2019s\nactions, and take part in his quarrels, like the gods of Homer. They\nare under an obligation to work constant miracles, to vindicate and\navenge, to listen readily to each man\u2019s requests and petitions, whether\nthey be just or no. Many of the people go off cattle-lifting or on\nother wrongful enterprises, and at the same time call upon Our Lady,\nor any other saints of repute as wonder-workers, to assist them, and\nas payment for success promise them gifts! To some of the Saints they\nattribute greater power and grace than to the God who glorified them.\nIn the same way they show greater reverence for this or that church or\n_icon_, and bring presents from great distances, in the belief that it\nhas miraculous powers, without understanding that Faith works miracles\nequally in all places[104].\u2019\n\nSuch is the verdict of an educated priest of the Greek Church who\ndeplores the polytheism and idolatry of the common-folk among whom\nhe lives, and who in so doing speaks with the authority of intimate\nknowledge. Nor can the justice of the verdict be questioned by any one\nwho has entered one of the more highly reputed churches of Greece and\nobserved the votive offerings which adorn or disfigure it. For these\nofferings are of two qualities just as the motives which inspire them\nare twofold. There are the genuine thank-offerings, selected for their\nbeauty or worth, which commemorate gratefully some blessing received;\nof such the treasury of the Church of the Annunciation in Tenos is\nfull--gold and silver plate, bibles and service-books in rich bindings\nstudded with jewels, embroideries of Oriental silk unmatched in skill\nand splendour. But there is another class, the propitiatory offerings\ndesigned to place the offerer in a special way under the protection of\nthe saint. Most characteristic among these are the shreds of infected\nclothing sent by some sick person to the church of the particular saint\nwhose healing power he invokes. Just as in the province of magic the\npossession of a strip of a man\u2019s clothing gives to the witch a control\nover his whole person, so in the religious sphere the dedication of\nsome disease-laden rag from the body of the sufferer places him under\nthe special care of the saint. In the church of \u2018S. John of the Column\u2019\nat Athens the ancient pillar round which the edifice has been built is\nalways garnished with dirty rags affixed by a daub of candle-grease;\nand if the saint cures those who send these samples of their fevers, he\nmust certainly kill some of those who visit his sanctuary in person.\nTo this class of offerings belong also the bulk of the silver-foil\ntrinkets which are so cheap that the poorest peasant can afford one\nfor his tribute, and so abundant that at Tenos out of this supply of\nmetal alone have been fashioned the massive silver candelabra which\nlight the whole church. These trinkets are models of any object which\nthe worshipper wishes to commend to the special attention of the saint.\nAt Tenos they most frequently represent parts of the human body,\nfor there the Virgin is above all a goddess of healing; but a vast\nassortment of models of other objects committed to her care may also\nbe seen--horses and mules, agricultural implements, boats, sheaves\nof corn to represent the harvest, bunches of grapes in emblem of the\nvintage; there is no limit to the variety; anything for which a man\ncraves the saint\u2019s blessing is thus symbolically confided to her\nkeeping. Doubtless among them there are a number of thank-offerings for\nmercies already received; I remember in particular a realistic model\nof a Greek coasting steamer with a list attached giving the names of\nthe captain and crew who dedicated it in gratitude for deliverance from\nshipwreck. It may even be that some few of the models of eyes and limbs\nare thank-offerings for cures effected, and in beauty or worth are all\nthat the peasant\u2019s artistic sense desires or his purse affords. But the\nmajority of them, as I have said, are the gifts of those whose prayers\nare not yet answered and who thus keep before the eyes of the saint the\nmaladies which crave her healing care.\n\nOther offerings again may be dedicated with either motive. Candles\nand incense are equally suited to win a favour or to repay one. But\nwhether the motive be propitiation or gratitude, the whole system is a\nlegacy of the pagan world and permeated with the spirit of paganism.\nEverywhere the Christian disguise of the old religion is easily\npenetrable; the Church for instance has forbidden the use of graven\nimages, and only in one or two places do statues or even reliefs\nsurvive: but the painted _icons_ which are provided in their stead\nsatisfy equally well the common-folk\u2019s instinct for idolatry.\n\nVows conditional upon the answering of some prayer usually conform\noutwardly at least to Christian requirements. Scores of the small\nchapels with which the whole country is dotted have been built in\npayment of such a vow; and often a boy may be seen dressed in a\nminiature priest\u2019s costume, because in some illness his mother devoted\nhim to the service of God or of some saint for a number of years if\nonly he should recover. But the idea of bargaining by vows is more\npagan than Christian, and sometimes indeed an even clearer echo of\nancient thought is heard, as when a girl vows to the Virgin a silver\ngirdle if she will lay her in her lover\u2019s arms[105].\n\nMiracles again are expected of the higher powers in return for man\u2019s\nservices to them; for as the proverb runs, \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03b8\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6,\n\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03be\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018it is a sorry saint who works no wonders.\u2019 And wonders\nare worked as the people expect--some in appearance, some in fact.\n\nA sham miracle is annually worked by the priests of a church near Volo\nin Thessaly. Within the walls, still easily traced, of the old town\nof Demetrias on a spur of Mount Pelion stands an unfinished church\ndedicated to the Virgin. Here on the Friday after Easter there is a\nconcourse from all Thessaly to see the miracle. At the east end of the\nchurch, on the outside, a square tank has been sunk ten or twelve feet\nbelow the level of the church floor, exposing, on the side formed by\nthe church wall, ancient foundations--perhaps of some temple where the\nsame miracle was worked two thousand years ago. The miracle consists in\nthe filling of this tank with water; but seeing that under the floor\nof the church itself there are cisterns to which a shaft in each aisle\ndescends, and that the tank outside, sunk, as has been said, to a lower\nlevel, undisguisedly derives its water from a hole in the foundations\nof the church, there is less of the marvellous in the fact that the\npriests by opening some sluice fill the tank than in the simple faith\nwith which the throng from all parts presses to obtain a cupful of the\nmiraculously fertilizing but withal muddy liquid. The women drink it,\nthe men carry it home to sprinkle a few drops on cornfield or vineyard.\n\nGenuine miracles, at any rate of healing, seem to be well established.\nAfter personal investigation and enquiry at the great festival of\nTenos I concluded that some faith-cures had actually occurred. Some\ntravellers[106] indeed have been inclined to scoff at these miracles\nand to write them down mere fabrications of interested priests. But in\nan official \u2018Description of some of the miracles of the wonder-working\n_icon_ of the Annunciation in Tenos\u2019 the total number claimed down to\nthe year 1898 is only forty-four, that is to say not an average even\nof one a year; and a large majority of the cases detailed--including\ntwelve cases of mental derangement, eleven of blindness, and ten of\nparalysis, none of them congenital,--might I suppose come under the\ncategory of nervous diseases for which a faith-cure is possible; while\nseveral of the remainder, such as the case of a man who at first sight\nof the _icon_ coughed up a fish bone which had stuck in his throat\nfor two years, do not pass the bounds of belief; and even if the\npriests do sometimes set false or exaggerated rumours afloat, it must\nbe conceded that the peasant, who has faith enough to believe their\nstories, has also faith enough, if faith-cures ever occur, to render\nsuch a cure possible in his case. Indeed no one who has been to the\ngreat centres of miraculous healing can fail to be impressed by the\nunquailing faith of the pilgrims. Year by year they come in their\nthousands, bringing the maimed and the halt and the blind, and, more\npitiful still, the hopelessly deformed, for whose healing a miracle\nindeed were needed. Year by year these are laid to sleep in the church\nor in its precincts on the eve of the festival. Year by year they are\ncarried where the shadow of the _icon_ as it passes in procession may\nperchance fall on them. Year by year they are sprinkled with water from\nthe holy spring. And year by year most of them depart as they came,\nmaimed and halt and blind and horribly misshapen. Yet faith abides\nundimmed; hope still blossoms; and they go again and again until they\nearn another release than that which they crave. The very dead, it is\nsaid, have ere now been brought from neighbouring islands, but the\n_icon_ has not raised them up. There are but few indeed whose faith\nhas made them whole; but for my part I do not doubt that a boy\u2019s sight\nwas restored at Tenos in the year that I was there (1899), or that\nsimilar occurrences are well established at such shrines as that of the\nVirgin at Megaspelaeon, of S. George in Scyros, or of S. Gerasimos in\nCephalonia.\n\nClosely bound up with these miraculous cures is the old pagan practice\nof \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, sleeping in the sanctuary of the god whose healing\ntouch is sought. At Tenos the majority of the pilgrims who come for\nthe festival of Lady-day can only afford to stop for the one night\nwhich precedes it. The sight then is strange indeed. The whole floor\nof the church and a great part of the courtyard outside is covered\nwith recumbent worshippers. With them they have brought mattresses and\nblankets for those of the sick for whom a stone floor is too hard; by\ntheir side is piled baggage of all descriptions, cooking utensils,\nloaves of bread, jars of wine or water, everything in fact necessary\nfor a long night\u2019s watch or slumber. And on this mass of close-packed\nsuffering worshippers the doors of the church are locked from nine in\nthe evening till early next morning. Shortly before the closing-hour I\npicked my way with difficulty in the dim light over prostrate forms\nfrom the south to the north door. The atmosphere was suffocating and\nreeked with the smoke of wax tapers which all day long the pilgrims had\nbeen burning before the _icon_. Every malady and affliction seemed to\nbe represented; the moaning and coughing never stopped: and I wondered,\nnot whether there would be any miraculous cures, but how many deaths\nthere would be in the six or seven hours of confinement before even the\ndoors were again opened.\n\nBut this is the practice at its worst. Where there is more time\navailable, there is nothing insanitary in it. In the list of cures\nat Tenos, to which I have alluded, there are many cases in which the\npatient spent not one night only but several months in the church. As a\ntypical case I may take that of a sailor who while keeping look-out on\na steamer in the harbour of Patras had some kind of paralytic seizure.\nHe was taken to Tenos and for four months suffered terribly. Then about\nmidday at Easter he had fallen asleep and heard a voice bidding him\nrise. He woke up and asked those about him who had called him; they\nsaid no one; so he slept again. This happened twice. The third time\non hearing the voice he opened his eyes and saw entering the church a\nwoman of unspeakable beauty and brilliance, and at the shock he rose to\nhis feet and began to walk; and the same day accompanied the festival\nprocession round the town to the astonishment of all the people.\n\nWhen I was in Scyros I heard of an equally curious case of a\nlong-deferred cure which had recently taken place and was the talk of\nthe town. For seven consecutive years a man from Euboea had brought\nhis wife, who was mad, to the church of S. George to \u2018sleep in\u2019 for\nforty days. Shortly before I arrived the last of these periods was\njust drawing to a close, when one night both the man and his wife saw\na vision of S. George who came and laid his hand on her head; and in\nthe morning she woke sane. Of her sanity when I saw her--for they\nwere still in the island, paying, I think, some vow which the man had\nmade--I had no doubt; and the evidence of the people of the place who\nfor seven years previously had seen her mad seemed irrefragable.\n\nThe instances which I have cited are from the records of churches which\nhave succeeded to the reputation possessed by Epidaurus in antiquity.\nThese owing to the enthusiasm which their fame inspires are probably\nthe scenes of more faith-cures than humbler and less known sanctuaries.\nBut in every church throughout the land the observance of the custom\nmay occasionally be seen; for in the less civilised districts at any\nrate it is among the commonest remedies for childish ailments for a\nmother to pass the night with her child in the village church.\n\nWe shall notice in later chapters the remnants of other pagan\ninstitutions which the Greek Church has harboured--an oracle\nestablished in a Christian chapel and served by a priest--a\nchurch-festival at which sacrifice is done and omens are read--the\nsurvival of ancient \u2018mysteries\u2019 in the dramatic celebration of Good\nFriday and Easter. For the present enough has been said to show that,\neven within the domain of what is nominally Christian worship, the\npeasant of to-day in his conception of the higher powers and in his\nwhole attitude towards them remains a polytheist and a pagan. And as in\nthis aspect of religion, so in that other which concerns men\u2019s care for\nthe dead and their conception of the future life, the persistence of\npagan beliefs and customs is constantly manifest. The ancient funeral\nusages are undisturbed; and in the dirges which form part of them the\nheaven and the hell of Christianity seem almost unknown: \u2018the lower\nworld\u2019 (\u1f41 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2), over which rules neither God nor the Devil but\nCharon, is the land to which all men alike are sped.\n\nBut there is no need to dilate upon these matters yet. It is clear\nenough already, I hope, that the fact of Greece being nominally a\nChristian country should not preclude the hope of finding there\ninstructive survivals of paganism. The Church did not oust her\npredecessor. By a policy of conciliation and compromise she succeeded\nindeed in imposing upon Hellenic religion the name of Christianity\nand the Christian code of morality and all the external appanages\nof Christian worship: but in the essentials of religion proper she\ndeferred largely to the traditional sentiments of the race. She\nutilised the sanctuaries which other associations had rendered holy;\nshe permitted or adopted as her own the methods by which men had\napproached and entreated other gods than hers; she condoned polytheism\nby appropriating the shrines of gods whom men had been wont to worship\nto the service of saints whom they inevitably would worship as gods\ninstead; and even so she failed to suppress altogether the ejected\ndeities. The result is that for the peasant Christianity is only a\npart of a larger scheme of religion. To the outside observer it may\nappear that there are two distinct departments of popular religion,\nthe one nominally Christian, devoted to the service of God and the\nSaints, provided with sanctuaries and all the apparatus of worship,\nserved by a regular priesthood, limited by dogma and system; the other\nconcerned with those surviving deities of pre-Christian Greece to\nwhom we must next turn, free in respect of its worship alike from the\nintervention of persons and the limitations of place, obedient only to\na traditional lore which each may interpret by his own feelings and\naugment by his own experience. But the peasant seems hardly sensible of\nany such contrast. His Christian and his pagan deities consort amicably\ntogether; prayer and vow and offering are made to both, now to avert\ntheir wrath, now to cajole them into kindness; the professed prophets\nof either sort, the priests and the witches, are endowed with kindred\npowers; everywhere there is overlapping and intertwining. And when the\nvery authorities of the Greek Church have adopted or connived at so\nmuch of pagan belief and custom, how should the common-folk distinguish\nany longer the twin elements in their blended faith? Their Christianity\nhas become homogeneous with their paganism, and it is the religious\nspirit inherited from their pagan ancestors by which both alike are\nanimated.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] VIII. 38. 7.\n\n[2] _Oneirocr._ II. 34 and 37.\n\n[3] i.e. (\u1f40\u03bc)\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9(\u03bf\u03bd), diminutive of \u1f44\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1.\n\n[4] Also locally \u03b2\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u032f\u03ac, a word whose origin I cannot trace.\n\n[5] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 90.\n\n[6] Theocr. _Id._ VI. 39.\n\n[7] Sonnini de Magnoncourt, _Voyage en Gr\u00e8ce et en Turquie_, vol. II.\np. 99.\n\n[8] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 360, cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5,\n\u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, vol. III. p. 146.\n\n[9] In Athens, among other places, cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, vol. III. p. 69.\n\n[10] Verg. _Ecl._ III. 103.\n\n[11] In Sinasos the rule is strict in regard to both, cf. \u1f38. \u03a3.\n\u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, pp. 83, 93.\n\n[12] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, vol. III. p. 146.\n\n[13] _Ibid._ p. 64.\n\n[14] Cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, vol. III. p. 41.\n\n[15] The Church of the Annunciation, for example, in Tenos, possesses\nan \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 as well as its miraculous _icon_. This spring was in high\nrepute before the _icon_ was discovered, cf. \u039c\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u1fb6, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03a4\u03ae\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5,\np. 102 (a translation of Salonis, _Voyage \u00e0 Tine_ (Paris 1809)). The\n_icon_ was discovered only just before the Greek War of Independence.\n\n[16] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u039c\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, vol. III. p. 5.\n\n[17] The banishment of suffering etc. to the mountains is an idea to be\nmet with in ancient Greek literature, cf. Orphic Hymn, no. 19, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70,\n\u03bc\u03ac\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1, \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u1f78\u03bd \u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u1f7a\u03bd \u1f14\u03bc\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5 \u03ba\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f20\u03b4\u2019 \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u1fc7\u03c3\u03b9.\n\n[18] Cf. \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 87.\n\n[19] _Ibid._ p. 88.\n\n[20] Theocr. _Id._ II. 28.\n\n[21] _Ibid._ 53.\n\n[22] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8. vol. III. p. 21.\n\n[23] This is probably the modern form of \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1, \u2018entanglement.\u2019 The\nchange of initial \u03b5 to \u03b1 is not rare in dialect, cf. \u1f04\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 for \u1f14\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2\n(= \u1f14\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2) \u2018miserable\u2019; and \u03c5, with sound of English _v_, is regularly\nlost before \u03bc.\n\n[24] See below, pp. 60 ff.\n\n[25] _Voyage en Gr\u00e8ce et en Turquie_, II. 140.\n\n[26] Below, pp. 61 ff.\n\n[27] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u0391\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, vol. III. p. 60.\n\n[28] Plato, _Charm._ \u00a7 8 (p. 155).\n\n[29] The name is probably derived from the ancient \u03b2\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2, with\nmetathesis of the nasal sound. If \u03b2\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2 means congestion of the\nthroat, the modern formation in -\u1fb6\u03c2 would mean \u2018one who causes\ncongestion,\u2019--apparently of other parts besides the throat. The\nby-forms \u0392\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2 and \u0392\u03b1\u03c1\u03c5\u03c7\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2 seem to have been influenced by a\ndesire to connect the name with \u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03cd\u03c2, \u2018heavy.\u2019 Under the ancient name\nof this demon, \u2018Ephialtes,\u2019 Suidas gives also a popular name of his\nday, \u0392\u03b1\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, a word borrowed from late Latin and apparently\nconnected with _babulus_ (_baburrus_, _baburcus_, _babuztus_)\n\u2018foolish,\u2019 \u2018mad.\u2019 _Babutsicarius_ should then be the sender of foolish\nor mad dreams. Suidas however may be in error; see below p. 217.\n\n[30] I learnt the details of this cure in Aetolia; a different version\nof it is recorded from Cimolos by Theodore Bent, _The Cyclades_, pp. 51\nff.\n\n[31] Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 363.\n\n[32] \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, pp. 172 ff.\n\n[33] Passow (_Popularia Carmina_, Index, s.v. \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1) speaks of a\ngirl only. He was perhaps influenced by the feminine form of the word.\n\n[34] Many versions of the song have been collected, but with little\nvariation in substance. Passow gives three versions, _Pop. Carm._ nos.\n311-313.\n\n[35] \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u00e1, pp. 172 ff.\n\n[36] \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1 belongs to the dialect of the Tsakonians as spoken at\nLeonidi, but is otherwise obsolete.\n\n[37] For authorities etc. see Finlay, _Hist. of Greece_, vol. IV. pp.\n11 ff. (cap. 1, \u00a7 3).\n\n[38] _De Themat._ II. 25. Finlay, _op. cit._ IV. 17.\n\n[39] Arist. _Frogs_, 114.\n\n[40] Hom. _Od._ XIV. 29-31.\n\n[41] _Ib._ 21.\n\n[42] I am indebted to Mr L. Whibley for pointing out to me two\nrecords of this fact by English travellers of last century, W. Mure\n(_Journal of a Tour in Greece_, 1842, vol. I. p. 99), and W. G. Clark\n(_Peloponnesus_, 1858, p. 237).\n\n[43] Perhaps this is the \u1f00\u03b5\u03b9\u03ba\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 (_Od._ 14. 32) which Odysseus\nwould have endured for some time but for the intervention of Eumaeus.\nOtherwise the line must have been inserted by someone who did not\nappreciate the guile of Odysseus.\n\n[44] ll. 35-6.\n\n[45] l. 38.\n\n[46] ll. 45-7.\n\n[47] ll. 72-7.\n\n[48] l. 78.\n\n[49] ll. 79-80.\n\n[50] In some islands the old word \u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bc\u03b9\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1 also is still used.\n\n[51] C.I.G. vol. I. p. 790 (No. 1625, l. 47) \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03c0\u1f70\u03c2\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f44\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd (from Carditsa,\nanc. Acraephia, in Boeotia).\n\n[52] For examples see Passow, _Popul. Carm._ nos. 305-309.\n\n[53] Athen. VIII. 360 C.\n\n[54] Cf. Hom. _Od._ 4. 782.\n\n[55] \u1f10\u03b4\u1ff6 \u1f00\u03c6\u03af\u03bd\u03c9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c8\u03cd\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u0394. \u039c.\n\u039c\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c2, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03a4\u03ae\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5, p. 87 (transl. of Dr M. Salonis, _Voyage\n\u00e0 Tine_ (Paris, 1809)).\n\n[56] Rohde, _Psyche_, vol. II. pp. 9 ff.\n\n[57] \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b2\u03b1\u03ba\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f34\u03b4\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, Philo, _de vita contempl._ 2. p. 473 M., cited by\nRohde _l.c._\n\n[58] Artemidorus, _Oneirocr._ III. 61.\n\n[59] Soph. _Fr._ 753.\n\n[60] Diog. Laert. _Vita Diog._ 6. 39.\n\n[61] _apud_ Diog. Laert. X. 123.\n\n[62] 1 _Cor._ XI. 21.\n\n[63] _Apolog._ cap. 5.\n\n[64] Lampridius (Hist. Aug.) _Alex._ cap. 29 f.\n\n[65] _Ibid._\n\n[66] _de Haeres._ cap. 8. For the references I am indebted to\nPouqueville, _Voyage de la Gr\u00e8ce_, vol. VI. p. 136.\n\n[67] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ cap. iv. \u00a7 55 (p. 17 Sylb.).\n\n[68] I have given the story in the form in which I heard it told by a\npeasant on board a boat in the Euripus. He was a native, I think, of\nEuboea, and being uneducated probably knew the story by oral tradition.\nA slightly longer form has, however, been published by Hahn (_Griech.\nM\u00e4rchen_, vol. II. no. 76) and by \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (\u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, p. 43).\n\n[69] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8. _III_. p. 164.\n\n[70] Bent, _The Cyclades_, p. 457.\n\n[71] See below, pp. 169 f.\n\n[72] I am unable to determine whether this saint is the prophet Elijah\nof the Old Testament, or a Christian hermit of the fourth century. The\nGreeks themselves differ in their accounts.\n\n[73] Maury, in _Revue Arch\u00e9ologique_, I. p. 502.\n\n[74] According to Pouqueville (_Voyage de la Gr\u00e8ce_, II. p. 170) the\n_rosalia_ was formerly celebrated both at Parga in Epirus and Palermo\nin Sicily. The festival at Athens falls on Easter Tuesday, and a large\nnumber of peasants come in from the country to attend it.\n\n[75] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ \u00a7 30.\n\n[76] See J. M. Neale, _History of the Holy Eastern Church_, p. 1042.\n\n[77] See below, pp. 66 ff.\n\n[78] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03cc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8. III. p. 160.\n\n[79] _The Cyclades_, p. 319.\n\n[80] B. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 28.\n\n[81] _Travels in Crete_, vol. I. p. 250.\n\n[82] Schmidt (_Volksleben der Neugr._ p. 31) records also the phrase\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2, parallel with Strepsiades\u2019 joke (Ar. _Nub._ 373)\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u0394\u03af\u2019 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1fa4\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\n[83] The word is extremely rare, but \u1fe5\u03b5\u03bc\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9, I was told, is a coarse\nkind of sieve. The expression is from Boeotia.\n\n[84] From Arachova on Parnassus, Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugr._\np. 33.\n\n[85] From Cyprus.\n\n[86] From Zacynthos, Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 32.\n\n[87] From the island of Syme, near Rhodes.\n\n[88] There is a good discussion of them by \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 in \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2 for\n1880, pp. 585-608, 665-678, 762-773, from which some of my examples are\ntaken. I have noted the _provenance_ of the rarer expressions.\n\n[89] Passow, _Pop. Carm., Distich. Amat. 242_, quoted by Schmidt (_op.\ncit._ p. 30), who notes the Homeric parallel.\n\n[90] _Pyth._ IV. 181 (322), \u0392\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ad\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[91] See _e.g._ Passow, _Pop. Carm._ nos. 426-432, and below, pp.\n101-104.\n\n[92] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 159.\n\n[93] _M\u00e4rchen, etc._, no. 19.\n\n[94] pp. 91 ff.\n\n[95] _The Cyclades_, p. 373.\n\n[96] There is some likelihood that the title \u03ba\u03b1\u03c0\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03b1 is a mere\ncorruption of an older title which had a quite different meaning; but I\nam concerned only with the existing title as popularly interpreted.\n\n[97] Ross, _Reisen auf den Griech. Inseln_, IV. p. 74.\n\n[98] Bent, _Cyclades_, p. 46.\n\n[99] So also in Paros, Bent, _Cyclades_, p. 373.\n\n[100] Athenaeus, II. 39 C.\n\n[101] Bent, _Cyclades_, p. 72.\n\n[102] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8. III. p. 153.\n\n[103] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 131.\n\n[104] \u0393\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3. \u03a0\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a3\u03c6\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd, p. 69.\n\n[105] Cf. a couplet quoted by Pashley, _Travels in Crete_, p. 253.\n\n    \u03a4\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f00\u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b1\u03bd \u03b6\u03ce\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1,\n    \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03c3\u03bc\u03af\u03be\u1fc3\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03b6\u1f74 \u03b4\u03c5\u03cc \u03c2\u2019 \u1f15\u03bd\u03b1 \u03ba\u03c1\u03b5\u03b2\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ce\u03c3\u03b9.\n\n[106] _e.g._ Bent, _The Cyclades_, p. 249.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE SURVIVAL OF PAGAN DEITIES.\n\n\n\u00a7 1. THE RANGE OF MODERN POLYTHEISM.\n\nThus far we have considered paganism in its bearing and influence upon\nmodern Greek Christianity. We have seen how the Church, in endeavouring\nto widen her influence, countenanced many practices and conciliated\nmany prejudices of a people whose temperament needed a multitude of\ngods and whose piety could pay homage to them all, a people moreover\nto whom the criterion of divinity was neither moral perfection nor\nomnipotence. From the ethical standpoint some of the ancient gods were\nbetter, some worse than men: in point of power they were superhuman\nbut not almighty. Some indeed claimed that there was no difference in\norigin between mankind and its deities. \u2018One is the race of men\u2019 sang\nPindar \u2018with the race of gods; for one is the mother that gave to both\nour breath of life: yet sundered are they by powers wholly diverse, in\nthat mankind is as naught, but heaven is builded of brass that abideth\never unshaken[107].\u2019 One in origin, they are diverse in might. The test\nof godhead is power sufficing to defy death. Rightly therefore did\nHomer make \u2018deathless\u2019 and \u2018everbeing\u2019 his constant epithets for the\ngods. Immortality alone is the quality which distinguishes them in kind\nand not merely in degree from men, and makes them worthy of worship.\nA people wedded to such conceptions were naturally ready enough to\ninstall new immortals of whom they had not known before, but reluctant\nto depose in their favour those whom they and their forefathers\nhad known and served. Dangers were to be apprehended from neglect;\nblessings were to be secured by tendance. Greater honour might be paid\nto one god, less to another; but from no immortal should service be\nwholly withheld: even unconscious oversights should be remedied by\nofferings \u2018to an unknown god.\u2019 Such in its essence was the popular\nreligion, inconsistent it may be and not deeply intellectual, but in\nsympathies very broad--broad enough to encompass the worship of all\nimmortals, broad as the earth and the sky and the sea wherein they\ndwelt and moved.\n\nSo vital and so deep-seated in the hearts of the common-folk are\nthese religious tendencies, that even at the present day when\nthe word \u2018Christian\u2019 has become a popular synonym for \u2018Greek\u2019 in\ncontradistinction not only with \u2018Mohammedan,\u2019 but even sometimes with\n\u2018Western\u2019 or \u2018Catholic\u2019 or with \u2018Protestant,\u2019 and when horror would\nbe excited by any imputation of polytheism, there are yet recognised\na large number of superhuman and for the most part immortal beings,\nwhom the Church has been able neither to eradicate from the popular\nmind nor yet to incorporate under the form of saints or devils in her\nown theological system. These beings, whether benignant to man or\nmaleficent, are all treated as divine. In ancient times the common\npeople had probably little appreciation of the various grades of\ndivinity; indeed it was one of the seven sages, we are told, who first\ndifferentiated God and the lesser deities and the heroes[108]; and\nat the present day the common-folk are certainly no more subtle of\nunderstanding than they were then. God and the Saints and these pagan\npowers are all feared and worshipped in the several ways traditionally\nsuited to each; but the fact of worship proclaims them all alike to be\ngods.\n\nThe origin of the non-Christian deities, even if we were unable to\nidentify any of them with the gods of classical Greece, would be\nclearly enough proved by some of the general terms under which all\nof them are included. Those who use these terms indeed no longer\nappreciate their significance; for all sense of antagonism between\nthe pagan and Christian elements in the popular religion has, as we\nhave seen, long been lost. But the words themselves are a relic of\nthe early days in which the combat of Christianity with the heathen\nworld was still stern. Among the most widespread of these terms is the\nword \u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac[109] (i.e. \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac), the \u2018extraneous\u2019 powers, clearly an\ninvention of the early Christians. The phrase \u2018those that are without\u2019\n(\u03bf\u1f31 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9 or \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd) was used by S. Paul first[110] and afterwards\ngenerally by the Fathers of the Church to denote men of all other\npersuasions. In the fourth century Basil of Caesarea employed the\nadjective \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2 also in a corresponding sense[111]. This word no\ndoubt became popular, and hence \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, \u2018the extraneous ones,\u2019\nbecame a convenient term by which to denote comprehensively all those\nold divinities whose worship the Church disallowed but even among her\nown adherents could not wholly suppress. Another comprehensive term\nequally significant, if not so commonly used, is \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac[112], \u2018the\npagan ones.\u2019 This is in use in the Ionian islands and some parts of the\nmainland, but I have not met with it nor found it understood in the\nPeloponnese or in the islands of the Aegean Sea[113]. In Cephalonia\nit is chiefly, though not exclusively, applied to a species of\nsupernatural beings usually called callic\u00e1ntzari (\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9) of\nwhom more anon: the reason of this restriction may be either the fact\nthat these monsters--to judge from the folk-stories of the island--so\nfar outnumber there all other kinds of \u2018pagan\u2019 beings that this one\nspecies has almost appropriated to itself the generic name, or that in\nold time, when the word \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac, \u2018pagan,\u2019 was still understood in the\nsense which we attribute to it, these monsters were deemed specially\n\u2018pagan\u2019 because, as we shall see later, they delight in disturbing a\nseason of Christian gladness. But elsewhere the term, still employed\nin what must have been its original meaning, comprises all kinds of\nnon-Christian deities; and in earlier times \u2018the pagan ones\u2019 was\nprobably as frequent an expression as its synonym \u2018the extraneous\nones.\u2019 To these may perhaps be added the rare appellation recorded\nby Schmidt[114], \u03c4\u03c3\u03af\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1: for if the derivation from \u03c4\u03b6\u03af\u03bd\u03b1, \u2018fraud,\u2019\n\u2018deceit,\u2019 be right, it will mean \u2018the false gods.\u2019\n\nBesides these three names, which indicate the pre-Christian origin\nof these deities, there are several others--some in universal usage,\nothers local and dialectic,--which represent them in various aspects.\nAs a class of \u2018divinities\u2019 they are called \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1: as \u2018apparitions,\u2019\nwhose precise nature often cannot be further determined, \u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 or\n\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 and, in Crete, \u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03c4\u03ac[115]: as swift and \u2018sudden\u2019 in\ntheir coming and going, \u03be\u03b1\u03c6\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac[116]: as ghostly and passing like a\nvision, \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03c9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac: as denizens, for the most part, of the air, \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac:\nand from their similarity to angels, \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac.\n\nIt may seem strange that the first and the last of these terms,\n\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1 and \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, should be practically interchangeable; for\nthe Church at any rate did her best in early days to make the former\nunderstood in the sense of \u2018demons\u2019 or \u2018devils\u2019 rather than \u2018deities.\u2019\nBut the attempted change of meaning seems to have failed to make much\nimpression on a people who did not view goodness as an essential of\ngodhead; and in later times the Church herself, or many of her less\neducated clergy at any rate, surrendered to the popular ideas. Father\nRichard[117], a Jesuit resident during the seventeenth century in the\nisland of Santorini, mentions the case of an old Greek priest who had\nlong made a speciality of exorcism and was prepared to expel angels and\ndemons alike from the bodies of those who were afflicted by them. The\npriest when questioned by the Jesuit as to what distinction he drew\nbetween demons and angels, replied that the demons came from hell,\nwhile the angels were \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9, a species of a\u00ebrial being; but while\nhe maintained a theoretical difference between them, his practice\nbetrayed a belief that both were equally harmful. Exorcism had to be\nemployed in cases of \u2018angelic\u2019 as well as of \u2018demoniacal\u2019 possession;\nand Father Richard details the cruelties and tortures inflicted upon a\nwoman suspected of the former in order to make the pernicious angelic\nspirit within her confess its name. The characters of \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1 and\n\u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac are in fact the same, and the subtle theological distinctions\nwhich might be drawn between them are naturally lost on a people who\nsee them treated even by the priests as equally baneful.\n\nA few other local or dialectic names remain to be noticed. Two of\nthem, \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03ac and \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, denote properly two several species of\nsupernatural beings--the former being the _genii_ of fixed places[118],\nand the latter a\u00ebrial beings chiefly concerned with the passage of men\nfrom this world to the next[119]--and are only loosely and locally\nemployed in a more comprehensive sense. The name \u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, recorded\nfrom Philiatr\u00e1 in Messenia, is apparently a diminutive form from a root\nmeaning \u2018terrible[120].\u2019 A Cretan word \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac is of less certain\netymology, but if, as has been surmised, it has any relation with the\nverb \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03cd\u03c9, \u2018to go down to the underworld,\u2019 and hence \u2018to fall\ninto a trance,\u2019 (\u2018entranced\u2019 spirits being thought temporarily to have\ndeparted thither,) it may denote either denizens of the lower world or\nbeings who frighten men into a senseless and trance-like state[121].\nNext come the two words \u03b6\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1 and \u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1, of which I believe\nthe interpretation is one and the same. Bernhard Schmidt[122], whose\nwork I have constantly consulted in this and later chapters, would\nderive the former from a middle-Greek word \u03b6\u03cc\u03bc\u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2[123], equivalent to\nthe ancient \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, a fantastic animal of Aristophanic fame; but\nit was explained to me in Scyros to be a jocose euphemism as applied\nto supernatural beings and to denote properly parasitic insects. The\nimplied combination of superstitious awe in avoiding the name of\nsupernatural things with a certain broad humour in substituting what\nis, to the peasant, one of the lesser annoyances of life is certainly\ncharacteristic of the Greek folk; and the accuracy of the explanation\ngiven to me is confirmed by the fact that in the island of Cythnos\nthe other word, \u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1, is recorded to bear also the meaning of\n\u2018insects[124].\u2019 The joke, if such it be, must date from a long time\nback and in its prime must have enjoyed a widespread popularity; for at\nAr\u00e1chova on the slopes of Parnassus, a place far distant from Scyros,\nthe word \u03b6\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1 is employed in the sense of supernatural beings by\npersons who apparently are quite ignorant of its original meaning[125].\nTo these difficult terms must be added a few euphemisms of a simple\nnature--\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03af\u03b6\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1 (i.e. \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03b6\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1) \u2018the enviable ones\u2019 in one village\nof Tenos[126], and in many places such general terms as \u03bf\u1f31 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03af \u2018the\nnoble,\u2019--\u03bf\u1f31 \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03af \u03bc\u03b1\u03c2 \u2018our brothers,\u2019--\u03bf\u1f31 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9 \u2018the fortunate\nones,\u2019--\u03bf\u1f31 \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u2018the joyful ones.\u2019 These evasions of a more\ndirect nomenclature are very frequent, and, since the choice of epithet\nis practically at the discretion of the speaker, it would be impossible\nto compile a complete list of them.\n\nHow far each of these names may be applied in general to all the\nclasses of pagan gods and demons and monsters whom I am about to\ndescribe is a question which I cannot determine. On the one hand\nmany of the names, as we have seen, are purely local, confined to a\nfew villages or districts or islands and unknown and unintelligible\nelsewhere: and on the other hand some of these supernatural beings\nthemselves are equally local, and my information concerning them has\nbeen gathered from widely separated regions of the Greek world. Hence\nit follows that while the several terms which I have explained are\ncomprehensive in local usage and include all the supernatural beings\nlocally recognised, it is impossible to say whether the users of them\nwould think fit to extend them to the deities of other districts.\nProbably they would do so; but only for the most widely current\nterms, \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1 and \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, can I claim with assurance anything like\nuniversal application.\n\nThe surviving pagan deities fall naturally into two classes. There are\nthe solitary and individual figures such as Demeter, and there is the\ngregarious and generic class to which belong for example the Nymphs. An\nexceptional case may occur in which some originally single personality\nhas been multiplied into a whole class. The Lesbian maiden Gello, who,\naccording to a superstition known to Sappho[127], in revenge for her\nuntimely death haunted her old abodes preying upon the babes of women\nwhose motherhood she envied, is no longer one but many; the place of a\nmaiden, whom death carried off ere she had known the love of husband\nand children, has been taken by withered witch-like beings who none the\nless bear her name and resemble her in that they light, like Harpies,\nupon young children and suck out their humours[128]. But in the main\nthe division holds; there are single gods and there are groups of gods.\nOf the former, in several cases, there is very little to record. Such\nmemory of them as still lingers among the people is confined perhaps\nto a single folk-story out of the many that have been preserved. In\nsuch cases I do not feel entire confidence that the reference is a\npiece of genuine tradition; in spite of the popular form in which the\nstories are cast, it is always possible that, owing to the spread of\neducation, some scholastic smatterings of ancient mythology have been\nintroduced by the story-teller. There are certainly plenty of tales\nto be heard about Alexander the Great which are drawn from literary\nsources; and it is possible that two stories published by Schmidt which\ncontain apparent reminiscences of Poseidon and of Pan are vitiated,\nfrom the point of view of folklore, in the same way. Fortunately the\ncases in which this reserve must be felt are few and in the nature\nof things unimportant: for, though proof of genuine tradition would\nbe interesting, yet a single modern allusion is not likely to throw\nany light on the ancient conception of a deity or his cult. Where\non the other hand modern folklore is more abundant--and in the case\nof the groups of lesser deities above all there is ample store of\ninformation--it is possible that study of the popular conceptions of\nto-day may illumine our understanding of ancient religion.\n\n\n\u00a7 2. ZEUS.\n\n\u1f18\u03ba \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1.\n\nTo Zeus, the ancient father of gods and men, belongs precedence;\nbut there is in truth little room for him in the modern scheme\nof popular religion. His functions have been transferred to the\nChristian God, and his personality merged in that of the Father whom\nthe Church acknowledges. But though he is no longer a deity, the\nancient conception of him has imposed narrow limitations upon the\ncharacter of his successor. We have noted already that the God now\nrecognised exercises the same general control, as did formerly Zeus,\nover all the changes and chances of this mortal life, but has, again\nresembling Zeus, for his special province only the regulation of the\nmore monotonous phases of nature and the weather. The more unusual\nphenomena, and among them sometimes even the thunder, to which S. Elias\nhas pretensions, are delegated to saints or to non-Christian deities;\nbut for the most part the thunder remains the possession of God, as\nit was always that of Zeus; and its more important concomitant, the\nlightning, is never, I think, attributed to S. Elias, but is wielded by\nGod alone.\n\nThe very name of this weapon which the Christian God has inherited is\nsuggestive of the Olympian _r\u00e9gime_. Much has been heard lately of\nthe double-headed axe as a religious symbol which seems to have been\nconstantly associated, especially in Crete, with the worship of Zeus.\nThe modern Greek word for what we call the thunderbolt is \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9\n(a syncopated form of \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9 by loss of one of two concurrent\nsyllables beginning with the same consonant), and means literally a\n\u2018lightning-axe.\u2019 The weapon therefore which the supreme God wields\nis conceived as an axe-shaped missile; and, though in the ancient\nliterature which has come down to us we may nowhere find the word\n\u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c5\u03c2 used of the thunderbolt, there is no reason why the modern word\nshould not be the expression of a conception inherited from antiquity\nand so furnish a clue to what in itself seems a simple and suitable\nexplanation of the much-canvassed symbol.\n\nAgain the divine associations of the thunderbolt now as in the reign\nof Zeus are attested by the awe in which men and cattle, trees and\nhouses, which have been struck by lightning, are universally held--awe\nof that primitive kind which does not distinguish between the sacred\nand the accursed. It is sufficient that particular persons or objects\nhave come into close contact with divine power; that contact sets them\napart; they must not do common work or be put to common uses. In old\ndays any place which had been struck was distinguished by the erection\nof an altar and the performance of sacrifice, but at the same time it\nwas left unoccupied and, save for sacrificial purposes, untrodden[129];\nit was both honoured and avoided. In the case of persons however the\nsense of awe verged on esteem. \u2018No one,\u2019 says Artemidorus, \u2018who has\nbeen struck by lightning is excluded from citizenship; indeed such\nan one is honoured even as a god[130].\u2019 The same feeling is still\nexhibited. The peasant makes the sign of the cross as he passes any\nscorched and blackened tree-trunk; but if a man has the fortune to be\nstruck and not killed, he may indulge a taste for idleness for the rest\nof his life--his neighbours will support him--and enjoy at the same\ntime the reputation of being something more than human.\n\nBut in spite of the reverent awe which the victim of the lightning\nexcites, the thunderbolt is often viewed now, as in old time, as the\ninstrument of divine vengeance. The people of Ar\u00e1chova, when they see a\nflash, explain the occurrence in the phrase \u03ba\u03ac\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03ba\u03b1\u03c8\u03b5, \u2018He\nhas burnt up some devil,\u2019 and the implied subject of the verb, as in\nmost phrases describing the weather, is undoubtedly God[131]. The same\nidea, in yet more frankly pagan garb, is well exhibited in a story from\nZacynthos[132], which is nothing but the old myth of the war of the\nTitans against Zeus with the names of the actors omitted. The gist of\nit is as follows.\n\nThe giants once rebelled against God. First they climbed a mountain\nand hurled rocks at him; but he grasped his thunderbolts (\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03ba\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5) and threw them at the giants, and they all fell down\nfrom the mountain and many were killed. Then one whose courage was\nstill unshaken tied reeds together and tried to reach to heaven with\nthem (for what purpose, does not appear in the story; but folk-tales\nare often somewhat inconsequent, and this vague incident is probably an\nimperfect reminiscence of the legend of Prometheus); but the lightning\nburnt him to ashes. Then his remaining companions made a last assault,\nbut the lightning again slew many of them, and the rest were condemned\nto live all their life long shut in beneath a mountain.\n\nThis story is one of those which in themselves might be suspected of\nscholastic origin or influence; but it so happens that practically the\nsame story has been recorded from Chios also, with the slight addition\nthat there the leader of the giants\u2019 assault has usurped the name of\nSamson. Such corroboration from the other end of the Greek world goes\nfar to establish the genuine nature of the tradition.\n\nThus though Zeus has been generally superseded by the Christian God,\nhis character and mythic attributes have left a strong and indelible\nmark upon the religion of to-day. The present conception of God is\npractically identical with the ancient conception of the deity who was\nindeed one among many gods and yet in thought and often also in speech\nthe god _par excellence_. Christianity has effected little here beyond\nthe suppression of the personal name Zeus.\n\nAll this, no doubt, illustrates the fusion of paganism with\nChristianity rather than the independent co-existence of deities of\nthe separate systems. But there are two small facts in virtue of which\nI have given to Zeus a place among the pagan deities whose distinct\npersonality is not yet wholly sunk in oblivion. The men of Ar\u00e1chova,\nas we have noticed above, still swear by the \u2018god of Crete,\u2019 who can\nbe no other than Zeus; and in Crete itself there was recently, and may\nstill be, in use the invocation \u1f20\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u0396\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03ad, \u2018Hearken to me,\nO god Zeus[133].\u2019 Such expressions, though their original force is no\nlonger known by those who use them, are none the less indications that\nperhaps not many generations ago Zeus was still locally recognised\nand reverenced as a deity distinct from the Christian God, to whom\nindeed everywhere he can only gradually have ceded his position and his\nattributes.\n\n\n\u00a7 3. POSEIDON.\n\nFor the survival of any god of the sea in the imagination of the\nGreek people I cannot personally vouch. Though I have been among the\nseafaring population in many parts, I have never heard mention of other\nthan female deities. That which I here set down rests entirely on the\nauthority of Bernhard Schmidt.\n\nIn his collection of folk-stories there is one from Zacynthos, entitled\n\u2018Captain Thirteen,\u2019 which runs as follows[134]:--A king who was the\nstrongest man of his time made war on a neighbour. His strength lay in\nthree hairs on his breast. He was on the point of crushing his foes\nwhen his wife was bribed to cut off the hairs, and he with thirteen\ncompanions was taken prisoner. But the hairs began to grow again, and\nso his enemies threw him and his companions into a pit. The others\nwere killed by the fall, but he being thrown in last, fell upon them\nand was unhurt. Over the pit his enemies then raised a mound. He found\nhowever in the pit a dead bird, and having fastened its wings to his\nhands flew up and carried away mound and all with him. Then he soared\nhigh in the air until a storm of rain washed away the clay that held\nthe feathers to his hands, and he fell into the sea. \u2018Then from out the\nsea came the god thereof (\u1f41 \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2) and struck him with\na three-pronged fork (\u03bc\u03af\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f72 \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03c7\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1)\u2019 and changed him\ninto a dolphin until such time as he should find a maiden ready to be\nhis wife. The dolphin after some time saved a ship-wrecked king and his\ndaughter, and the princess by way of reward took him for her husband\nand the spell was broken.\n\nOther characteristics of this trident-bearing sea-god are, according\nto the same authority[135], that he is in form half human and half\nfish; that his wealth, consisting of all treasures lost in the sea,\nis so great that he sleeps on a couch of gold; and that he rides\nupon dolphins. Thus Poseidon, it appears, (or it may be Nereus,) has\nsurvived locally in the remembrance of the Greek people as a deity\nunconnected with Christianity. Far more generally however his functions\nhave been transferred to S. Nicolas, whose aid is invariably invoked\nby seamen in time of peril, and who has acquired the byname of \u2018sailor\u2019\n(\u03bd\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2)[136].\n\nThe allusion to the sea-god and his trident in the story which I have\nrepeated must, I think, be accepted with some reserve as being possibly\na scholastic interpolation. I cannot find confirmation of it in any\nother folk-story, and moreover the latter part of the tale is familiar\nto me in another form. The hero is usually a young prince who goes out\nto seek adventures in the world, not a king who has already a wife\nat home; and his transformation into a dolphin is effected by some\nmalicious witch into whose toils he falls. But while for these reasons\nI do not put the story forward as certain evidence of the survival of\nPoseidon in the popular memory, I have recounted it at some length\nbecause it is an excellent type of current folk-tales, and from a study\nof it, if we may now leave Poseidon and make a brief digression, we may\nappreciate the relation existing between such stories and the myths of\nantiquity.\n\nThe king who was the strongest man of his time has a classical\nprototype in the Messenian leader Aristomenes. He too was thrown with\nhis comrades into a pit by his enemies, the Spartans, and alone escaped\ndeath from the fall, being borne up on the wings of eagles. Again, the\nidea of a man\u2019s strength residing in a certain hair or hairs is well\nknown in ancient mythology; and although it is by no means peculiar to\nthe Greeks, but is common to many peoples of the world, we may fairly\nsuppose that the modern Greek has not borrowed it from outside, but has\ninherited it from those ancestors among whose myths was the story of\nScylla and Nisus. Lastly, in the incident of the hero fastening wings\nto his arms with clay and his subsequent fall into the sea there are\nall the essentials of the legend of Icarus.\n\nHere then combined in one modern folk-story we find the _motifs_\nof three separate ancient myths. And from it and others of like\nnature--for in the collection from which I have borrowed it there are\nseveral stories in which such figures as Midas, the Sphinx, and the\nCyclopes are easily recognised--an inference may be drawn as to the\nreal relation of ancient mythology to modern folk-stories. Certain\nthemes must have existed from time immemorial, and these have been\nworked up into tales by successive generations of _raconteurs_ with\never-varying settings. Fresh combinations of _motifs_ have been and\nare still being tried; fresh embroidery of detail may be added by\neach artist; only the theme in its plainest form, the mere groundwork\nof story, remains immutable. This at the same time explains the wide\nvariations of the same myth even among the ancients themselves, and\nwarns us not to judge of the value of a modern folk-story or folk-song\nby the closeness of its resemblance to any ancient myth which may have\nbeen preserved to us in literature. It was naturally the most finished\nand artistic presentment of the story which appealed to the taste\nof educated men and thus became the orthodox classical version; but\nthere is every likelihood that before the story reached the stage of\nacknowledged perfection much that was primitive had been suppressed\nas inartistic, and much that was not traditional had been added by\nthe poet\u2019s imagination. The unlettered story-teller, endowed with\nless fancy and ignorant of the conventions of art, is a far trustier\nvehicle of pure tradition; for though he feels himself at liberty to\ncompose variations of the original theme, he certainly has less power\nand generally less inclination to do so; for it is on exactness of\nmemory and even verbal fidelity to the traditional form of the story\nthat the modern story-teller chiefly prides himself. Hence the modern\nfolk-story, straight from the peasant\u2019s lips in a form almost verbally\nidentical with that in which successive generations of peasants before\nhim narrated it, may contain more genuinely primitive material than a\nliterary version of it which dates from perhaps two thousand years or\nmore ago.\n\n\n\u00a7 4. PAN.\n\nA story, again from the same collection[137], runs in brief as\nfollows:--Once upon a time a priest had a good son who tended goats.\nOne day \u2018Panos\u2019 gave him a kid with a skin of gold. He at once offered\nit as a burnt-offering to God, and in answer an angel promised him\nwhatsoever he should ask. He chose a magic pipe which should make all\nhearers dance. So no enemy could come near to touch him. The king\nhowever sent for him, and the goatherd, after making the envoys dance\nmore than once, voluntarily let himself be taken. The king then threw\nhim into prison, but he had his flute still with him, and when he\nplayed even houses and rocks danced, and fell and crushed all save him\nand his. \u2018The whole business,\u2019 concludes the story, \u2018was arranged by\nPanos to cleanse the world somewhat of evil men.\u2019\n\nHere the pastoral scene and the gift of the magic pipe (not by Panos\nhimself, it is true, but indirectly thanks to him) suggest a genuine\nremembrance of Pan. It was from him that \u2018bonus Daphnis\u2019 learnt the art\nof music. The form which the name has assumed is the chief difficulty.\nThe modern nominative, if formed in the same way as in other words\nof the same declension, would naturally be Panas (\u03a0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2), and the\nunusual termination arouses some suspicion that the narrator of the\nstory had heard of Pan from some literary source and, as often happens\nin such cases, had got the name a little wrong. But if the tale be\na piece of genuine tradition, the conclusion of it is remarkable.\nThe moral purpose ascribed to the deity seems to indicate a loftier\nconception of him than that which is commonly found in ancient art\nand literature. But the popular tradition embodied in the legend is\nnot therefore necessarily at fault; indeed it may be more true to the\nconception of Pan which prevailed among the common-folk in old days\nthan were the portraits drawn and handed down by the more educated of\ntheir contemporaries. The patron-god of Arcadian shepherd-life would\nnaturally have seemed a rude being to the cultured Athenians of the\nfifth century, who but for his miraculous intervention in the battle\nof Marathon would never have honoured him with a temple. But among his\noriginal worshippers it may well be that, besides presiding over the\nincrease of their flocks, as did Demeter over the increase of their\nfields, he was deemed to resemble her also in the possession of more\nexalted attributes, so that there was cause indeed for lamentation over\nthat strange message \u2018Great Pan is dead[138].\u2019\n\nBut perchance Pan is not dead yet, or if dead not forgotten. And as\nthis solitary modern story, if it be genuine, testifies to a longlived\nremembrance of his better qualities, so in the demonology of the middle\nages a sterner aspect of his ancient character still secured to him\nmen\u2019s awe. Theocritus[139] gave voice to a well-known superstition\nwhen he made the goat-herd say: \u2018Nay, shepherd, it may not be; in the\nnoontide we may not pipe; \u2019tis Pan that we fear\u2019; for in his rage if\nroused from his midday slumber he was believed to strike the intruder\nwith \u2018panic\u2019 terror: and it was this superstition which influenced the\ntranslators of the Septuagint when they rendered the phrase, which in\nour Bible version of the Psalms[140] appears as \u2018the destruction that\nwasteth at noonday,\u2019 by the words \u03c3\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b2\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd.\nBy the latter half of this phrase the memory of Pan was undoubtedly\nperpetuated; for in certain forms of prayer quoted by Leo Allatius[141]\nin the seventeenth century, among the perils from which divine\ndeliverance is sought is mentioned more than once this \u2018midday demon\u2019;\nand a corresponding \u2018daemon meridianus[142]\u2019 found a place of equal\ndignity among the ghostly enemies of Roman Catholics.\n\nPerhaps even yet in the pastoral uplands of Greece some traveller will\nhear news of Pan.\n\n\n\u00a7 5. DEMETER AND PERSEPHONE.\n\nOf few ancient deities has popular memory been more tenacious than\nof Demeter; but in different districts the reminiscences take very\ndifferent forms. There are many traces of her name and cult, and of the\nlegends concerning both her and her daughter; but in one place they\nhave been Christianised, in another they have remained pagan.\n\nIn so far as she has affected the traditions of the Church, a male\ndeity, S. Demetrius, has in general superseded her. Under the title\nof \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2, \u2018belonging to the dry land,\u2019 he has in most districts\ntaken over the patronage of agriculture; while his inherited interest\nin marriage receives testimony from the number of weddings celebrated,\nespecially in the agricultural districts, on his day. But at Eleusis,\nthe old home of Demeter\u2019s most sacred rites, the people, it seems,\nwould not brook the substitution of a male saint for their goddess,\nand yielded to ecclesiastical influence only so far as to create for\nthemselves a saint Demetra (\u1f21 \u1f01\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u0394\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1) entirely unknown elsewhere\nand never canonised. Further, in open defiance of an iconoclastic\nChurch, they retained an old statue of Demeter, and merely prefixing\nthe title \u2018saint\u2019 to the name of their cherished goddess, continued to\nworship her as before. The statue was regularly crowned with garlands\nof flowers in the avowed hope of obtaining good harvests, and without\ndoubt prayer was made before it as now before the pictures of canonical\nsaints. This state of things continued down to the beginning of the\nnineteenth century. Then, in 1801, two Englishmen, named Clarke and\nCripps, armed by the Turkish authorities with a license to plunder,\nperpetrated an act unenviably like that of Verres at Enna, and in\nspite of a riot among the peasants of Eleusis removed by force the\nvenerable marble; and that which was the visible form of the great\ngoddess on whose presence and goodwill had depended from immemorial\nages the fertility of the Thriasian plain is now a little-regarded\nobject catalogued as \u2018No. XIV, Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, (much\nmutilated)[143].\u2019\n\nSaint Demetra however, though lost to sight, was yet dear to the memory\nof the village-folk; and in spite of the devastation of old beliefs\nand legends which the much-vaunted progress and education of Greece\nhave committed in the more civilised districts without conferring any\nsensible compensation, the antiquarian Lenormant found in 1860 an old\nAlbanian[144] priest who when once reassured that no ridicule was\nintended, recited to him the following remarkable legend[145]: \u2018S.\nDemetra was an old woman of Athens, kind and good, who devoted all her\nlittle means to feeding the poor. She had a daughter who was beautiful\npast all imagining; since \u201clady Aphrodite\u201d (\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u2019\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c4\u03b7) none had\nbeen seen so lovely. A Turkish lord of the neighbourhood of Souli, who\nwas a wicked man and versed in magic, saw her one day combing her hair,\nwhich was of golden hue and reached to the very ground, and became\npassionately enamoured of her. He bided his time, and having found\nhis chance of speaking with her tried to seduce her. But she being as\nprudent as she was beautiful, repulsed all the miscreant\u2019s advances.\nThereupon he resolved to carry her off and put her in his harem. One\nChristmas night, while Demetra was at church, the Turk (\u1f41 \u1f00\u03b3\u1fb6\u03c2) forced\nthe door of her house, seized the girl who was at home alone, carried\nher off in spite of her cries of distress, and holding her in his arms\nleapt upon his horse. The horse was a wonderful one; it was black in\ncolour; from its nostrils it breathed out flames, and in one bound\ncould pass from the East unto the West. In an instant it had carried\nravisher and victim right to the mountains of Epirus.\n\nWhen the aged Demetra came back from church, she found her house broken\ninto and her daughter gone; great was her despair. She asked her\nneighbours if they knew what had become of her daughter; but they dared\nnot tell her aught, for they feared the Turks and their vengeance. She\nturned her enquiries to the tree that grew before her house; but the\ntree could tell her nothing. She asked the sun, but the sun could give\nher no help; she asked the moon and the stars, but from them too she\nlearnt nothing. Finally the stork that nested on the house-top said to\nher: \u201cLong time now we have lived side by side; thou art as old as I.\nListen; thou hast always been good to me, thou hast never disturbed my\nnest, and once thou didst help me to drive away the bird of prey that\nwould have carried off my nestlings. In recompense I will tell thee\nwhat I know of the fate of thy daughter; she was carried off by a Turk\nmounted on a black horse, who took her towards the West. Come, I will\nset out with thee and we will search for her together.\u201d\n\nAccompanied by the stork, Demetra started; the time was winter; it was\ncold, and snow covered the mountains. The poor old woman was frozen and\ncould hardly walk; she kept asking of all those whom she met, whether\nthey had seen her daughter, but they laughed at her or did not answer;\ndoors were shut in her face and entrance denied her, for men love not\nmisery; and she went weeping and lamenting. In this manner however\nshe dragged her limbs as far as Leps\u00edna (the modern form of the name\nEleusis); but, arriving there, she succumbed to cold and weariness and\nthrew herself down by the roadside. There she would have died, but\nthat by good luck there passed by the wife of the _khodja-bachi_ (or\nhead man of the village), who had been to look after her flocks and\nwas returning. Marigo--such was her name--took pity on the old woman,\nhelped her to rise and brought her to her husband, who was named\nNicolas[146]. The _khodja-bachi_ was as kind as his wife; both welcomed\nas best they could the poor sorrow-stricken woman, tended her and\nsought to console her. To reward them S. Demetra blessed their fields\nand gave them fertility.\n\nNicolas, the _khodja-bachi_, had a son handsome, strong, brave, and\npractised, in a word the finest _pallikar_ of all the country side.\nSeeing that Demetra was in no condition to continue her journey, he\noffered to set to work to recover her daughter, asking only her hand in\nrecompense. The offer was accepted, and he set out accompanied by the\nfaithful stork who would not abandon the undertaking.\n\nThe young man walked for many days without finding anything. At last\none night, when he was in a forest right among the mountains, he\ncaught sight of a great bright light at some distance. Towards this\nhe hastily bent his steps, but the point from which the light came\nwas much further off than he had at first imagined; the darkness had\ndeceived him. Eventually however he arrived there, and to his great\nastonishment found forty dragons lying on the ground and watching an\nenormous cauldron that was boiling on the fire. Undismayed by the\nsight, he lifted the cauldron with one hand, lit a torch, and replaced\nthe vessel on the fire. Astounded by such a display of strength, the\ndragons crowded round him and said to him, \u201cYou who can lift with one\nhand a cauldron which we by our united efforts can scarcely carry,\nyou alone are capable of carrying off a maiden whom we have long been\ntrying to lay our hands on, and whom we cannot seize because of the\nheight of the tower wherein a magician keeps her shut up.\u201d The son of\nthe _khodja-bachi_ of Leps\u00edna perceived the impossibility of escape\nfrom these monsters. Accompanied by the forty dragons, he approached\nthe tower, and after having examined it, he asked for some large nails,\nwhich he took and drove into the wall, so as to form a kind of ladder,\nand which he kept pulling out again as he ascended to prevent the\ndragons from following him. Having arrived at the top and with some\ndifficulty entered at a small window there, he invited the dragons to\nascend as he had done, one by one, which they did, thus giving him\ntime to kill each as it arrived while the next was climbing up, and\nto throw it over the other side of the tower, where there were a large\ncourt, a splendid garden, and a fine castle. Thus rid of his dangerous\nguardians, he went down into the interior of the tower and found there\nS. Demetra\u2019s daughter, whose beauty at once inspired him with the most\nardent love.\n\nHe was kneeling at her feet when suddenly the magician appeared, and in\na fury of anger threw himself upon the young man, who met him bravely.\nThe former was of superhuman strength, but Nicolas\u2019 son was not\ninferior to him. The magician had the power to transform himself into\nany thing he might choose; he changed successively into a lion, into a\nserpent, into a bird of prey, into fire--hoping under some one of these\nforms to wear his adversary out; but nothing could shake the courage\nof the young man. For three days the combat continued. The first day\nthe magician seemed beaten, but the next he regained his advantage; at\nthe end of the day\u2019s struggle he killed his young opponent, and cut his\nbody into four quarters, which he hung on the four sides of the tower.\nThen elated by his victory, he did violence to Demetra\u2019s daughter,\nwhose chastity he had hitherto respected. But in the night the stork\nflew away to a great distance to fetch a magic herb which it knew,\nbrought it back in its beak, and rubbed with it the young man\u2019s lips.\nAt once the pieces of his body came together again and he revived.\nGreat was his despair when he learnt what had taken place after his\ndefeat; but he only threw himself upon the magician with the greater\nfury the third day, to punish him for his crime.\n\nOnce again the young man, it seemed, was on the point of being\nvanquished, when suddenly he conceived the happy idea of invoking\nthe Panagia, vowing that if victorious he would become a monk at the\nmonastery of Phanerom\u00e9ne[147]. The divine protection which he had\ninvoked gave him strength and he succeeded in throwing his adversary:\nthe stork, who had aided him so much, at once attacked the fallen\nmagician and picked out his eyes; then with its beak pulled out a\nwhite hair noticeable among the black curls that covered his head. On\nthis hair depended the life of the Turkish magician, who immediately\nexpired.\nHis conqueror, taking with him the girl, brought her back to Leps\u00edna,\njust at the season when spring was coming and the flowers were\nbeginning to appear in the fields. Then he went, as he had vowed, and\nshut himself up in the monastery. S. Demetra, having received back\nher daughter, went away with her. What became of them afterwards, no\none knows; but since that time the fields of Leps\u00edna, thanks to the\nblessing of the Saint, have not ceased to be fertile.\u2019\n\nIt would be superfluous to point out the numerous details of this\nlegend which accord explicitly with the account of the rape of\nPersephone in the Homeric hymn. The interspersion of Christian ideas\nand reminiscences of Turkish domination and stories of fabulous\nmonsters may strike oddly on the ear unacquainted with the vagaries\nof Greek folk-stories. Yet the most sceptical could not doubt that\nthe tradition which forms the groundwork of the legend is none other\nthan the old myth, or that the four chief actors in the drama are none\nother than Demeter and Core, Pluto and Triptolemus. Pluto, masked\nas a Turkish _agha_, is perhaps the least readily recognisable; yet\nin one way as a relic of ancient tradition the part he plays is the\nmost remarkable in the whole legend. It is to Souli in Epirus that he\ncarries off the maiden. Now this is the district of the ancient Cocytus\nand Acheron; here was one of the descents to the lower world; here\nAidoneus held sway; and here, in one version of the myth[148], was laid\nthe scene of the rape of Persephone by that god. Hence the claims of\ntwo separate localities to the same mythological distinction seem by\nsome means to have become incorporated in the single modern legend.\n\nIn the same part of Epirus, according to Lenormant, a similar story to\nthat which he heard at Eleusis concerning S. Demetra\u2019s daughter, is\ntold, _mutatis mutandis_, of S. Demetrius: but since either a sense\nof propriety or a want of knowledge prevented him from publishing the\ndetails of it, the mere statement that it existed is of no great value.\nBut the legend which he narrates in full may I think be accepted as\ngenuine without corroboration on the grounds of its own structure.\nLenormant has indeed been accused of _mala fides_ in his own department\nof archaeology and of tampering with some of the inscriptions which he\npublished; but even if this charge could be substantiated, I should\ndoubt whether he had either the inclination to invent a legend which he\nonly mentions in a cumbrous foot-note, or the ability to fuse ancient\nand modern ideas into so good an imitation of the genuine folk-story.\nIn my judgement the construction of the legend is practically proof of\nits genuinely popular origin.\n\nThus Eleusis and, in a lesser degree, the many places where S.\nDemetrius has succeeded to the chief functions of Demeter have hardly\nyet lost touch with the ancient worship of the goddess, Christianised\nin form though it may be. But Arcadia too, where alone of all the\nPeloponnese the indigenous population were secure from the Achaean\nand Dorian immigrations and maintained in seclusion the holiest of\nPelasgian cults, preserves to the present day in story and in custom\nsome vestiges of the old religion; and here they are less tinged with\nChristian colour.\n\nNear the city of Pheneos, which according to Pausanias[149] was the\nscene of mysteries similar to those enacted at Eleusis, there are some\nunderground channels by which the waters of Lake Pheneos are carried\noff, soon to reappear as the river Ladon. These channels were believed\nby Pausanias himself to be artificial--the work of Heracles, it was\nsaid, who also constructed a canal close by, traces of which are still\nvisible: but according to another authority[150] they were the passage\nby which Pluto carried off Persephone to the infernal regions. Some\nmemory of the latter belief seems still to linger among the people\nof Phoni\u00e1 (the modern form of Phene\u00f3s), who call these subterranean\nvents \u1f21 \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018the holes of the devil,\u2019 and who\nfurther believe that it is through them that the spirits of the dead\npass to the lower world. My guide informed me also that the rise or\nfall of the waters of the lake--the level varies to an extraordinary\ndegree--furnishes an augury as to what rate of mortality may be\nexpected in the village. If the water is high, the lower world is for\nthe time being congested and requires no more inhabitants; if it sinks,\nthe lower world is empty, and thirsts for fresh victims. The connexion\nof such beliefs with the cult of Persephone, though vague, is probably\nreal; but how general they may be among the present villagers I cannot\nsay; Dodwell[151] apparently heard nothing of them except the name of\n\u2018the devil\u2019s holes,\u2019 and the explanation of this name which was given\nto him took the form of a story about a conflict between the devil and\na king of Phoni\u00e1, in which the former hurled explosive balls of grease\nat his adversary, one of which set him on fire and drove his body right\nthrough the base of the mountain which rises from the lake\u2019s edge,\nleaving thereafter an escape for the waters. There is certainly nothing\nin common between this story, which Leake also heard in a slightly\ndifferent version[152], and the beliefs communicated to me; and I\nsuspect that it is a comparatively modern aetiological fable designed\nperhaps to satisfy the curiosity of children concerning the name. The\nbelief that the subterranean channel is a descent to the lower world is\nmore clearly a vestige of the old local cult of Kore.\n\nAgain in the neighbourhood of Phigalia there is current among the\npeasantry a curious story which I tried in vain to hear recited\nin full, but only obtained in outline at second-hand. I cannot\nconsequently vouch for its accuracy, but such as it is I give it. There\nonce were a brother and sister, of whom the former was very wicked\nand a magician, while the latter was very virtuous and beautiful. Her\nbeauty was indeed so wonderful, that her brother became enamoured of\nher. In her distress she fled to a cave near Phigalia, hoping to elude\nhis pursuit; but the magician straightway discovered her. Then being\nat her wits\u2019 end how to save herself from the unholy passion which her\nbeauty inspired, she prayed to be turned into some beast. Her prayer\nwas straightway granted, but the wicked magician had power to change\nhimself likewise. So when they had both been changed into several\nshapes he at length overcame her. But no sooner was the infamous deed\ndone, than the Panagia caused an earthquake, and the roof of the cave\nfell and destroyed both brother and sister together.\n\nA story of incest necessarily ends at the present day among the highly\nmoral countryfolk of Greece with punishment inflicted by some Christian\ndeity: but for the rest the story is practically the same as that which\nPausanias heard concerning Poseidon and his sister Demeter in the same\ndistrict[153]. In the old version, which Pausanias gives very briefly,\nthere is only one transformation mentioned, that of Demeter into a\nmare and of Poseidon into a horse; but it is at least noteworthy that\nthe statue of horse-headed Demeter which commemorated this incident\nis said to have had \u2018figures of snakes and other wild animals\u2019 fixed\non its head; and possibly, if Pausanias had given a fuller version\nof the myth, we should find that these figures related to other\ntransformations which Demeter had tried in vain before in equine form\nshe was finally forced to yield. The mention of the cave in the modern\nstory is also significant; for though the cave in the ancient version\nis not the scene of the rape, it was there that Demeter hid herself\nin her anger afterwards and there too that the statue of horse-headed\nDemeter was set up. It would be interesting to know whether the horse\nis one of the forms assumed in the modern story; perhaps some other\ntraveller will be fortunate enough to hear the tale in full.\n\nIn northern Arcadia I also learnt that the flesh of the pig, in\nrespect of which the ordinary _Graeculus_ fully deserves the epithet\n_esuriens_, is taboo; and the result of eating it is believed to be\nleprosy. It might be supposed that this superstition has resulted from\ncontact with Mohammedans; but such an explanation would not account\nfor the confinement of it to one locality--and that a mountainous\nand unprofitable district where intercourse with the Turks must have\nbeen small; and further the Greek would surely have found a malicious\npleasure, the most piquant of sauces, in eating that which offended\nthe two peoples whom he most abhors, Turks and Jews. On the other\nhand, if we suppose this fear of swine\u2019s flesh to be a piece of native\ntradition, its origin may well be sought in the ritual observances of\nthe old cult of Demeter and her daughter, to whom the pig was sacred\nand in whose honour it was sacrificed once only in each year, at the\nfestival of the Thesmophoria[154]. There are many instances among\ndifferent peoples of the belief that skin diseases, especially leprosy,\nare the punishment visited upon those who eat of the sacred or unclean\nanimal; for the distinction between sacred and unclean is not made\nuntil a primitive sense of awe is inclined by conscious reasoning in\nthe direction either of reverence or of abhorrence[155]. Thus in\nEgypt, the land from which the Pelasgians, if Herodotus[156] might be\nbelieved, derived the worship of Demeter, it was held that the drinker\nof pig\u2019s milk incurred leprosy[157]; and we may reasonably suppose that\nthe same punishment threatened those Egyptians who tasted of pig\u2019s\nflesh save at their one annual festival when this was enjoined[158].\nNow the Thesmophoria resembled this Egyptian festival in that it was\nan annual occasion for sacrificing pigs and for partaking therefore of\ntheir flesh; if then the worshippers of Demeter, like the Egyptians,\nwere forbidden to use the pig for food at other times, and if the\npenalty for disobedience in Greece too was believed to be leprosy, the\npresent case of taboo in Arcadia--the only one known to me in modern\nGreece--may be a survival from the ancient cult.\n\nBut apart from these traces of the worship of Demeter and Kore\nin Christian worship, in folk-story, and in custom, traces which\nconstitute in themselves cogent proof of the firm hold on the popular\nmind which the goddesses twain must long have kept, there exists in the\nbelief of the Greek peasantry a personal Power, a living non-Christian\ndeity, who still inspires awe in many simple hearts and who may\nreasonably be identified with one or rather perhaps with both of them.\n\nFor it must not be forgotten that the mother and the daughter were\nin origin and symbolism one. The idea of life\u2019s ebb and flow, of\nnature\u2019s sleeping and waking, is expressed in them severally as well as\nconjointly. It would be impossible to analyse the complete myth and,\neven if a purely physical interpretation were sought, to express in\nphysiological terms the two persons and the parts which they play: for\ncertain ideas find duplicate expression. Either Demeter\u2019s retirement\nto some dark cave or the descent of Persephone to the underworld might\nhave represented alone and unaided the temporary abeyance of earth\u2019s\nproductive powers. Yet it was with good reason that the myth expanded\nas it were spontaneously until the spirit of life, that pervades\nnot only the cornfield but all that is animal and human too, was\npourtrayed in double form; not because the mere physical fact of the\ndecay and the revival of vegetation needed larger symbolism for its\ndue expression, but because in the tie of mother and daughter and all\nthat it connotes was fitly represented that by which the life-spirit\nworks among the higher orders of created things, that which goes before\nlife\u2019s manifestations and outlasts its vanishings, the spirit of love.\n\nOf all such ideas as these the modern peasant, needless to say, is\nwholly innocent. He has learnt from his ancestors of a woman beautiful,\nreverend, deathless, who dwells within a mountain of his land, and who\nby her dealings with mankind has proved her real and divine puissance.\nHer name is no more uttered, perchance because it is too holy for\nmen of impure lips; they speak only of \u2018the Mistress.\u2019 She is a real\nperson, not the personification of any natural force. The tiller of\nthe land foresees his yearly gain from cornfield and vineyard; the\nshepherd on the mountain-side expects the yearly increase of his flock;\nbut by neither is any principle inferred therefrom, much less is such\na principle personified; the blessing which rests on field and fold\nis the work of a living goddess\u2019 hands. Flesh and blood she is, even\nas they themselves, but immortal and very mighty, nobler than many of\nwhom the priests preach, stronger to help the good and to punish the\nwicked. Simple people they are, who still believe such things, and\nignorant; yet less truly ignorant than some half-educated pedants of\nthe towns who vaunt their learning in chattering of \u2018Ceres\u2019 rather than\nof \u2018Demeter\u2019 and, misled by Roman versifiers who at least had an excuse\nin the exigencies of metre, misinterpret the name as a mere synonym for\ncorn. Happily however the influence of the schools--for it is amongst\nthe schoolmasters that the worst offenders in this respect are to be\nfound--is not yet all-reaching, and in the remoter villages tradition\nis still untainted. There without fear of ridicule men may still\nconfess their faith in the great compassionate goddess.\n\nIt was in Aetolia that I first recognised the popular belief in this\ndeity. There I heard tell of one who was called \u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018the\nmistress of the world.\u2019 Her dwelling was in the heart of a mountain,\nthe means of access to it a cave, but where situated, the peasants\neither did not know or feared to tell. Her character indeed was ever\ngracious and kindly, but it may be they thought she would resent a\nforeigner\u2019s approach. In her power was the granting of many boons, but\nher special care was the fertility of the flocks and the abundance of\nthe crops, including in that district tobacco.\n\nThis revelation convinced me of the accuracy of what I had previously\nsuspected only in North Arcadia and in Messenia. In both those regions\nI had heard occasional mention among the peasants of one whose title\nwas simply \u1f21 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, \u2018the Mistress.\u2019 The word had always struck me\nas curious, for in ordinary usage it is obsolete and the mistress of\na house or whatever it may be is always \u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac (i.e. \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1). Knowing\nhowever that the Church had preserved the title \u1f21 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 among those\nunder which the Virgin may be invoked, I was disposed at first to think\nthat the dedication of some church in the neighbourhood had influenced\nthe people to use the rare name \u1f21 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 instead of the ordinary\n\u2018Panagia.\u2019 But when I enquired where the church of \u2018the Mistress\u2019 was,\nthe answer was \u2018she has none\u2019: and yet, on making subsequent enquiries\nof other persons, I found that there was a church of the Panagia close\nby. Clearly then it was not in the ecclesiastical sense that the title\n\u1f21 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 was being used. More than this I failed to elicit--the\npeasants of the Peloponnese are on the whole more suspicious and\nsecretive than those of northern Greece--but I have little doubt that\nthis goddess is the same as she who in Aetolia bears a title more\ncolloquial in form but identical in meaning.\n\nThe existence of this deity among the survivals of the old religion has\nnever, I think, been observed by any writer on the subject of Greek\nfolk-lore. But in Bernhard Schmidt\u2019s collection of popular stories and\nsongs there is evidence, whose value he himself did not recognise, to\ncorroborate it. One of the songs[159] from Zacynthos contains the lines:\n\n    \u1f1c\u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u2019 \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f21 \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f21 \u0394\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5,\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03ad\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03a4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u03bc\u2019 \u1f08\u03c1\u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\u00b7\n    \u03c7\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f14\u03ba\u03bf\u03c8\u03b1, \u03c7\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03c5\u032f\u1f78 \u03c7\u03b9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n \u2018They wrought in me, even God and the Virgin and the Mistress of the\n world, and I fought with Turks and with Albanians: a thousand I slew,\n a thousand yea and two thousand.\u2019\n\nThe editor of this song omits from his translation and does not even\nmention in his notes the last phrase of the first line, assuming, I\nsuppose, that the Virgin is mentioned twice over under two different\ntitles; but it is at least possible that three persons are intended.\nGod and the Virgin belong to the category of Christian deities; the\nthird may be the pagan goddess already discovered in Messenia, Arcadia,\nand Aetolia; if so, the collocation of her name along with those of\nthe highest Christian powers is strong testimony to the reverence\nwith which the people of Zacynthos too were wont, and perhaps still\ncontinue, to regard her.\n\nIn Schmidt\u2019s stories again yet another variation of the title occurs.\nIn one, which has already been narrated in full[160], \u2018the Mistress of\nthe earth and of the sea\u2019 (\u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2) rewards\na poor man, on the recommendation of his good angel, with miraculous\ngifts, and when he is slain by an envious king, herself appears and\nsends down the tyrant quick into the pit where punishment for his\nwickedness awaits him. Another, in which the same ample appellation is\nused, runs in brief as follows[161]:\n\n\u2018Once upon a time a king on his return from a journey gave to his\neldest son as a present a picture of \u201cthe Mistress of the earth and of\nthe sea.\u201d The prince was so dazzled by her beauty that he resolved to\nseek her out and make her his wife. He accordingly consulted a witch\nwho told him how to find the palace where the Mistress of earth and sea\nlived, and warned him also that before he could secure the fulfilment\nof his desire two tasks would be set him, the first to shatter a small\nphial carried by a dove in its beak without injuring the bird, the\nsecond to obtain the skin of a three-headed dragon. She also provided\nhim with a magic bow wherewith to perform the first labour, and with\ntwo hairs from the dragon\u2019s head, by means of which he would be\nmagically guided to the monster\u2019s lair. Arrived there he should glut it\nwith a meal of earth which he was to carry with him, and then slay it\nas it slept.\n\nThus forewarned and forearmed the prince set out and passing through a\ncave, of which the witch had told him, came to the palace. The Mistress\nhaving enquired of him his errand at once set him to perform the two\ntasks. These he accomplished, and she returned with him as his wife to\nhis own land. But they did not live peaceably together, and one day\nthe Mistress of earth and sea in her anger bade the waters overflow\nthe whole land, so that all mankind was drowned while she herself\nhovered above in the air and looked on. Then when the waters subsided,\nshe descended to the earth and made new men by sowing stones; and\nthereafter she ruled again as before over the whole world.\u2019\n\nBoth these stories hail, as does the song of which a few lines are\ncited above, from Zacynthos, and there is therefore good reason\nfor believing that in that island the same \u2018Mistress\u2019 was recently\nacknowledged as at this very day is venerated in those parts of the\nmainland which I have mentioned.\n\nTaking the common factors in these several traditions and beliefs,\nwe are led at once to identify the goddess to whom they relate with\nDemeter.\n\nFirst, the simplest form of her title, \u1f21 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, of which the others\nare merely elaborations, is that which Demeter commonly shared with\nPersephone in old time; and that the title has been handed down from\nantiquity is shown clearly by the fact that the word is in ordinary\nusage obsolete. Since then it is unlikely that in the course of\ntradition such a title should be transferred (save, owing to Christian\ninfluence, in the case of the Virgin, who has locally no doubt\nsuperseded one of the goddesses twain and appropriated her byname),\nthe word itself declares in favour of the identification of this still\nliving deity with Demeter.\n\nSecondly, her dwelling-place is consistently in the modern accounts\nthe heart of a mountain, and the passage to it a cave. Such precisely,\naccording to Pausanias, was the habitation of Demeter in Mt\nEla\u00efon[162]; and the same idea is reflected in her whole cult; for,\nthough in the classical period she had temples built like those of\nother deities, yet her holy of holies, as befitted a Chthonian deity,\nwas always a subterranean hall (\u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd) or palace (\u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd), an\nartificial and glorified cavern.\n\nThirdly, the modern deity is in character benevolent, therein differing\nmarkedly from many of the pagan powers whom we have yet to consider and\nalso from several of the Christian saints. Once only, in the second of\nthe stories from Zacynthos, does she appear in angry mood, when she\ndestroys all mankind by a flood. To the actual means of destruction\nemployed too much importance must not be attached. The _motif_ of\nthe flood is common in modern Greek folk-tales. In the islands of the\nAegean I encountered it several times, the fullest version being one\nwhich I heard in Scyros. The story as told there was exactly that of\nDeucalion, save that in deference to biblical tradition he was named\nNoah and, by a slight anachronism, it was the Panagia instead of Themis\nwho counselled him to create fresh men by throwing stones over his\nshoulder. I was also taken to see the place where the flood was at\nits highest, a narrow glen through which runs a small stream, whose\nhigh sloping banks are certainly a mass of half-fossilised animal and\nvegetable matter; and I was escorted to the hill-top on which Noah\u2019s\nca\u00efque finally rested. Such a theme is easily worked into a story\nof the deity, usually benevolent though she be, who is \u2018Mistress of\nthe earth and of the sea\u2019; and apart from the means of punishment so\nappropriately adopted by a goddess who rules the sea, this single\noutburst of somewhat unreasonable anger on the part of the modern deity\nagainst all mankind is singularly like the old-time Demeter\u2019s resentful\nretirement into the depths of her cave, until \u2018all the produce of earth\nwas failing and the human race was perishing fast from famine[163].\u2019\nYet otherwise the ancient goddess too was benevolent and gracious to\nman.\n\nFourthly, in Aetolia at any rate and probably also in the Peloponnese,\nwhere however I failed to extract definite information, the modern\ngoddess is the quickener of all the fruits of the earth, and in\nfunctions therefore corresponds once more with the ancient conception\nof Demeter. On these grounds the identification seems to me certain.\n\nThis being granted, the permanence of tradition concerning the\ndwelling-place of Demeter raises a question which I approach with\ndiffidence, feeling that an answer to it must rest with others more\ncompetent than myself in matters archaeological. First, is the\ntradition as old as that of the personality of the goddess? It is hard\nto suppose otherwise; for the primitive mind would scarcely conceive\nof a person without assigning also an habitation; and the habitation\nactually assigned is of primitive enough character--a cave in a\nmountain-side. Where then was Demeter worshipped by the Pelasgians\nin the Mycenaean age? That she was a deity much reverenced by the\ndwellers in the Argive plain is certain; small idols believed to\nrepresent Demeter Kourotrophos have been found at Mycenae[164]; others,\nof which the identification is more certain, at Tiryns[165]; and at\nArgos, in later times, Demeter continued to be worshipped under the\ntitle Pelasgian[166]. Was a mere cavern then her only home? Or did\nMycenae lavish some of its gold on building her a more worthy temple?\nMay not the famous bee-hive structures which have passed successively\nfor treasuries and for tombs of princes prove to be \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1, temples of\nChthonian deities such as Demeter?\n\nIt is true that in some humbler structures of the same type, such\nas those at Men\u00eddi and Thoricus, clear evidences of inhumation have\nbeen found; but I question whether it is permissible to draw from\nthis fact the inference that those magnificent structures also, the\nso-called Treasuries of Atreus and of Minyas, were in reality tombs.\nIt would seem reasonable to suppose that dwelling-places for the dead\nbeneath the earth and for earth-deities may have been constructed on\nthe same plan, but that the abodes dedicated to immortals were more\nimposing than those destined for dead men. This hypothesis appears to\nme more consistent with the evidence of the actual sites at Mycenae and\nOrchomenos than the commonly accepted view that the inner chamber of\nthe \u2018Treasury of Atreus\u2019 was a place of burial. \u2018In the centre of the\nMycenaean chamber,\u2019 says Schuchhardt[167], \u2018there is an almost circular\ndepression three feet in diameter and two feet in depth, cut into the\nrocky ground. In spite of its unusual shape, we must recognise in it\nthe actual site of the grave.\u2019 Was it a royal posture to lie curled up\nlike a cat? And if so, what of a similar depression in the floor of\nthe \u2018Treasury of Minyas\u2019 at Orchomenos? \u2018Almost in the centre of the\ntreasure-room\u2019--I again quote Schuchhardt[168]--\u2018was a long hole in the\nlevel rock, nine inches deep, fifteen inches broad and nineteen inches\nlong, which\u2019--must be recognised as the sepulchre of a royal baby? No,\nour faith is not to be so severely taxed;--\u2018which must have served\nto secure some monument.\u2019 May we not, with more consistency, extend\nthe same explanation to Mycenae? And what then were the monuments?\nMay they not have been images of the deity set up in the most natural\nplace, the centre of the outer or the inner sanctuary?\n\nAgain, the actual shape of the buildings is important. Ethnologists\ntell us that it is ultimately derived from a type of dwelling commonly\noccupied by primitive man, a circular wattle-hut with conical top; or\neven more directly, as some would have it, from a similarly shaped\nabode which the ancient Phrygians used to excavate in the ground,\nconstructing the top of withies laced over beams converging to the apex\nand covered over with earth, while they tunnelled out an approach from\none side where the ground sloped conveniently away[169]. From this it\nis argued that the domed chambers of Mycenae must be tombs, on the\nground that \u2018men in all ages have fashioned the dwellings of the dead\nin accordance with those of the living; but the dead are conservative,\nand long after a new generation has sought a new home and a new pattern\nfor its houses, the habitations of the dead are still constructed in\nancestral fashion[170].\u2019 I readily admit conservatism in all religious\nmatters; but how does the argument touch Mycenae? Archaeologists, and\namong them Schuchhardt himself[171], are agreed that the shaft-graves\nin the citadel are earlier in date than the bee-hive structures of\nthe lower town. There was therefore a breach in the continuity of the\nancestral fashion. Reversion to a disused fashion is a very different\nthing from conservatism in upholding an unbroken usage.\n\nBut even supposing that there were good evidence of the uninterrupted\ncontinuity of this type of sepulchre, may not the temples of Chthonian\ndeities have been built on the same plan? The use of the old word\n\u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd suggests that the sanctuary of Demeter and Persephone, though\nsubterranean, was modelled on the dwellings of men, and, to borrow an\nargument, religious conservatism may well have preserved for the gods\u2019\nabodes the hut-like shape of primitive man\u2019s dwellings long after a new\ntype of house had become general among mortals. Concrete instances of\nthis actually existed in much later times[172]. In Rome the temple of\nVesta was of this primitive shape, and so also most probably was the\nPrytaneum of Athens, which, though not a temple, contained the sacred\nhearth of the whole community and a statue of Hestia[173]. Demeter\nthen, as one of the deities of primitive Greece, might well have been\nprovided with a temple constructed on the same primitive pattern as\nthat of Vesta, but subterranean, as would befit a Chthonian deity, and\nthus analogous to the cave wherein she had been wont to dwell. The\nlarge domed chamber would be her _megaron_, wherein her worshippers\nassembled just as guests assembled in the _megaron_ of a prince. The\nsmall square apartment, where such exists, opening on one side of the\nmain room, might be the \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c2 or \u2018bedchamber,\u2019 an inner sanctuary\nwhich temples of later ages also possessed. The approach or \u2018dromos\u2019\nwould represent the natural cave which had given access to her fabled\npalace in the bowels of the earth.\n\nFinally, on such a view of these buildings, it would not be difficult\nto explain Pausanias\u2019 belief that they were treasuries[174]. Treasuries\nonly, we may be sure, they were not; for they would not have been built\noutside the walls of the citadel. But temples in later times were used\nas depositories for treasure; the would-be thief shrank apparently from\nthe further crime of sacrilege; and it is not unlikely that in a more\nprimitive age, when superstitious awe was certainly no less strong,\nwhile robbery far from being a crime was an honourable calling, men\nshould have secured their treasure by storing it in some inviolable\nsanctuary. Indeed it may be to such a custom that Homer alludes in\nspeaking of \u2018all that the stone threshold of the archer, even Phoebus\nApollo, doth enclose within at rocky Pytho[175].\u2019 If then this practice\nprevailed in Mycenaean, as it did in later, times, Pausanias would\nbe recording a tradition which was partially right; and it is not\nhard to see how, when Mycenae\u2019s greatness had suddenly, as it seems,\ndeclined and her population perhaps had migrated for the most part to\nArgos, later generations, familiar in their new settlements with that\ndifferent type of temple only which afterwards became general, might\nhave forgotten the sacred character of the bee-hive structures and\nhave remembered only the proverbial wealth once stored by the kings of\nMycenae within them.\n\nThere remains one point to which I may for the moment direct attention\nhere, reserving the development of the religious idea contained in\nit for a later chapter. The main theme of the second of the stories\nfrom Zacynthos was the seeking of the Mistress in marriage by a young\nprince. Now if this story stood alone, it would not be right to lay\nmuch stress upon it; for the adventures of a young prince in search of\nsome far-famed bride form the plot of numerous Greek folk-tales; and\nit would be possible to suppose that the real divine personality of\nthe Mistress had been partially obscured in the popular memory before\nsuch a story became connected with her name. But the same _motif_\nas it happens is repeated in two stories, one Greek and the other\nAlbanian, in von Hahn\u2019s collection[176]. The name of \u2018the Mistress\u2019\ndoes not indeed occur; the deity is called in both \u2018the beautiful\none of the earth[177].\u2019 But her identity is made quite clear in the\nAlbanian story, which evidently must have been borrowed from the\nGreek and is therefore admissible as good evidence, by the mention\nof \u2018a three-headed dog that sleeps not day nor night\u2019 by which she\nis guarded. This is undoubtedly the same monster as the hero of the\nZacynthian story was required to kill--the three-headed snake; and\nwhile the Albanian story, in making the beast a guardian of the\nsubterranean abode whom the adventurer must slay before he can reach\n\u2018the beautiful one,\u2019 is better in construction and, incidentally, more\nfaithful to old tradition[178] than the Greek version which makes the\nslaying an useless task arbitrarily imposed, yet in both portraits of\nthe monster we can recognise Cerberus--half dog, half snake. But of him\nmore anon; \u2018the beautiful one of the earth\u2019 whom he guards can be none\nother than Persephone.\n\nThus there are three modern stories which record the winning of Demeter\nor Persephone in marriage by a mortal lover. Is this a relic of ancient\ntradition? There was the attempt of Pirithous to seize Persephone for\nhis wife; but that failed, and moreover was judged an impious deed\nfor which he must suffer punishment. Yet there is also the story of\nIasion who was deemed worthy of Demeter\u2019s love. Wedlock then even with\nso great a deity as Demeter or her daughter was not beyond mortals\u2019\ndream or reach. Thus much I may notice now; when I come to examine\nmore closely the ancient worship of these goddesses, I shall argue\nthat the idea of a marriage-union between them and human kind was the\nmost intimate secret of the mysteries, and that in such folk-tales\nas those which I have here mentioned is contained the germ of a\nreligious conception from which was once evolved the holiest of ancient\nsacraments.\n\n\n\u00a7 6. CHARON.\n\nThere is no ancient deity whose name is so frequently on the lips\nof the modern peasant as that of Charon. The forms which it has now\nassumed are two, \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2, analogous to the formations \u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\nand \u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 from the ancient \u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd: for in late Greek at any rate the\ndeclension of \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd followed that of \u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd[179]. The two forms do not\nseem to belong to different modern dialects, for they often appear in\nclose juxtaposition in the same folk-song. The shorter form however is\nthe commoner in every-day speech, and I shall therefore employ it.\n\nAbout Charos the peasants will always, according to my experience,\nconverse freely. Neither superstitious awe nor fear of ridicule imposes\nany restraint. They feel perhaps that the existence of Charos is one of\nthe stern facts which men must face; and even the more educated classes\nretain sometimes, I think, an instinctive fear of making light of his\nname, lest he should assert his reality. For Charos is Death. He is\nnot now, what classical literature would have him to be, merely the\nferryman of the Styx. He is the god of death and of the lower world.\n\nHades is no longer a person but a place, the realm over which Charos\nrules. But the change which has befallen the old monarch\u2019s name is\nthe only change in the Greek conception of that realm. It is still\ncalled \u2018the lower world\u2019 (\u1f41 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 or \u1f21 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b3\u1fc6), and even the\nname Tartarus (now \u03c4\u1f70 \u03a4\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1, with the addition frequently of \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2\n\u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2) still may be heard. Nor is the character of the place altered.\nIts epithet \u2018icy-cold,\u2019 \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, is well-nigh as constant in\nmodern folk-songs as was the equivalent \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 in Homer\u2019s allusions\nto Hades\u2019 house, while the picturesque word \u1f00\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018thick with\nspiders\u2019-webs,\u2019 repeats in thought the Homeric \u03b5\u1f50\u03c1\u03c9\u03b5\u03af\u03c2, \u2018mouldering.\u2019\nSuch is Charos\u2019 kingdom, and hither he conveys men\u2019s souls which he has\nsnatched away from earth.\n\nHere with him dwells his mother, a being, as one folk-song tells[180],\nmore pitiful than he, who entreats him sometimes, when he is setting\nout to the chase, to spare mothers with young children and not to part\nlovers new-wed. He has also a wife, Char\u00f3ntissa or Ch\u00e1rissa, who as the\nname itself implies is merely a feminine counterpart of himself without\nany distinct character of her own. A son of Charos is also mentioned\nin song, for whose wedding-feast \u2018he slays children instead of lambs\nand brides as fatlings[181],\u2019 and to whose keeping are entrusted the\ncounter-keys of Hades[182]. Adopted children are also counted among\nhis family, but these are of those whom he has carried from this world\nto his own home[183]. The household is completed by the three-headed\nwatch-dog, of whom however remembrance is very rare. Yet in two\nstories in the last section we recognised Cerberus, and even the less\nconvincing of the embodiments there presented, that which represented\nhim as a three-headed snake rather than dog, is not devoid of traces\nof ancient tradition. The hero who would slay the monster has to cross\na piece of water--the sea instead of the river Styx--in order to reach\nan island where is the monster\u2019s lair; and there arrived, he sees\n\u2018looking out from a hole three heads with eyes that flash fire and\njaws that breathe flames[184].\u2019 This is Cerberus without doubt; and\nif the story calls him \u2018serpent\u2019 rather than \u2018dog,\u2019 ancient mythology\nand art alike justify in part the description; for his mother was\nsaid to be Echidna, and he himself is found pourtrayed with the tail\nof a serpent and a ring of snakes about his neck. Schmidt himself\nappears to have overlooked the testimony of this story and of that also\nfrom the collection of von Hahn in which, as I have pointed out, we\nhave a modern picture of Cerberus guarding the realm of Persephone;\nfor he speaks of some remarkable lines from a song which he himself\nheard in Zacynthos as an unique mention of Cerberus, and questions\nthe genuine nature of the tradition. All doubt is however removed\nby the corroborative evidence contained in the two stories already\nmentioned and by the fact that a three-headed dog belonging to Charos\nwas recently heard of by a traveller in Macedonia[185]. The lines\nthemselves are put in the mouth of Charos:--\n\n    \u1f1c\u03c7\u03c9 \u1f40\u03c7\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78 \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03c3\u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u1f76, \u03c0\u2019 \u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9,\n    \u03ba\u1fc2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5 \u1f30\u03b4\u1fc7 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bd\u03ac \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c6\u03ac\u1fc3.\n    \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u1f76 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03ad\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf, \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c3\u1f70 \u03c6\u03c9\u03c4\u03af\u03b1,\n    \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bd\u03cd\u03c7\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f60\u03c1\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03b1.\n    \u03b2\u03b3\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c6\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u1f70 \u2019\u03c6\u2019 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bb\u03ac\u03b2\u03c1\u03b1,\n    \u1f21 \u03b3\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03ac, \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b1[186].\n\n \u2018A savage dog have I, who guards us all, and when he sees me he rages\n and fain would devour me. A three-headed dog is he, and he burns like\n fire; his claws are sharp and his tail is long; from his eyes he gives\n forth flame and from his mouth burning heat; long is his tongue and\n grim his teeth.\u2019\n\nHere at least recognition of Cerberus must be immediate; every detail\nof the description, save for the characteristically modern touch\nwhich makes Charos afraid of his own dog, is in accord with classical\ntradition.\n\nSuch is the household of Charos, so far as a description may be\ncompiled from a few scattered allusions; his own portrait varies more,\nin proportion as there are more numerous attempts in every part of\nGreece to draw it. Sometimes he is depicted as an old man, tall and\nspare, white of hair and harsh of feature; but more often he is a lusty\nwarrior, with locks of raven-black or gleaming gold--just as Hades in\nold time was sometimes \u03ba\u03c5\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, sometimes \u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03cc\u03c2,--who rides forth\non his black steed by highway or lonely path to slay and to ravage:\n\u2018his glance is as lightning and his face as fire, his shoulders are\nlike twin mountains and his head like a tower[187].\u2019 His raiment is\nusually black as befits the lord of death, but anon it is depicted\nbright as his sunlit hair[188], for though he brings death he is a god\nand glorious.\n\nHis functions are clearly defined. He visits this upper world to\ncarry off those whose allotted time has run, and guards them in the\nlower world as in a prison whose keys they vainly essay to steal and\nto escape therefrom. But the spirit in which he performs those duties\nvaries according as he is conceived to be a free agent responsible to\nnone or merely a minister of the supreme God. Which of these is the\ntrue conception is a question to which the common-folk as a whole have\ngiven no final answer; and the character of Charos consequently depends\nupon the view locally preferred.\n\nThose who regard him as simply the servant and messenger of God, find\nno difficulty in accommodating him to his Christian surroundings;\nfor, as I have said, the peasant does not distinguish between the\nChristian and the pagan elements in his faith which together make his\npolytheism so luxuriant. We have already seen Charos\u2019 name with the\nprefix of \u2018saint[189]\u2019; and though this Christian title is not often\naccorded him, yet his name appears commonly on tomb-stones in Christian\nchurchyards. At Leon\u00eddi, on the east coast of the Peloponnese, I noted\nthe couplet:\n\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 \u1f41 \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u03ac \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u1fc3,\n    \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b5\u1f34\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bf\u1f34\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03bf \u03b2\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9.\n\n \u2018Me too Charos pitied not but took, even me the fondly-cherished\n flower of my home.\u2019\n\nSo too in popular story and song he is represented as working in\nconcord with the Angels and Archangels, to whom sometimes falls\nthe task of carrying children to his realm[190]. Indeed one of the\narchangels, Michael, who as we saw above has ousted Hermes, the\nescorter of souls, and assumed his functions, is charged with exactly\nthe same duties as Charos in the conveyance of men\u2019s souls to the\nnether world, so that in popular parlance the phrases \u2018he is wrestling\nwith Charos\u2019 (\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf)[191] and \u2018he is struggling with\nan angel\u2019 (\u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6)[192] are both alike used of a man in his\ndeath-agony.\n\nThis Christianised conception of Charos has not been without influence\nin softening the lines of the character popularly ascribed to him. The\nduties imposed upon him by the will of God are sometimes repugnant to\nhim, and he would willingly spare those whom he is sent to slay. One\nfolk-story related to me exhibits him even as a friend of man:--\n\n\u2018Once upon a time there were a man and wife who had had seven children\nall of whom died in infancy. When an eighth was born, the father betook\nhimself to a witch and enquired of her how he might best secure the\nboy\u2019s life. She told him that the others had died because he had chosen\nunsuitable godparents, and bade him on this occasion ask the first man\nwhom he should meet on his way home to stand sponsor for the child. He\naccordingly departed, and straightway met a stranger riding on a black\nhorse, and made his request to him. The stranger consented, and the\nbaptism at once took place; but no sooner was it over than he was gone\nwithout so much as telling his name.\n\nTen years passed, and the child was growing up strong and healthy.\nThen at last the father again encountered the unknown stranger, and\nreproached him with having been absent so long without ever making\nenquiry after his godson. Then the stranger answered, \u201cBetter for thee\nif I had not now come and if thou neededst not now learn my name. I am\nCharos, and because I am thy friend[193], am come to warn thee that thy\ndays are well-nigh spent.\u201d Thereupon Charos led him away to a cave in\nthe mountain-side, and they entered and came to a chamber where were\nmany candles burning. Then said Charos, \u201cSee, these candles are the\nlives of men, and yonder are thine and thy son\u2019s.\u201d Then the man looked,\nand of his own candle there were but two inches left, but his son\u2019s was\ntall and burnt but slowly. Then he besought Charos to light yet another\ncandle for him ere his own were burnt away, but Charos made answer that\nthat could not be. Then again he besought him to give him ten years\nfrom the life of his son, for he was a poor man, and if he died ere his\nson were grown to manhood, his widow and orphan would be in want. But\nCharos answered, \u201cIn no way can the decreed length of life be changed.\nYet will I show thee how in the two years that yet remain to thee thou\nmayest enrich thyself and leave abundant store for thy wife and child.\nThou shalt become a physician. It matters not that thou knowest nought\nof medicine, for I will give thee a better knowledge than of drugs.\nThine eyes shall ever be open to see me; and when thou goest to a sick\nman\u2019s couch, if thou dost see me standing at the bed-head, know then\nthat he must die, and say to them that summoned thee that no skill can\nsave him; but if thou dost see me at the foot of the bed, know that he\nwill recover; give him therefore but pills of bread if thou wilt, and\npromise to restore him.\u201d Then did the man thank Charos, and went away\nto his home.\n\nNow it chanced that the only daughter of the king lay grievously sick,\nand all the doctors and magicians had been called to heal her, but they\navailed nothing. Then came the poor man whom Charos had taught, and\nwent into the room where the princess lay, and lo! Charos stood at the\nfoot of her bed. Then he bade the king send away the other physicians,\nfor that he alone could heal her. So he himself went home and mixed\nflour and water and came again and gave it to the king\u2019s daughter, and\nsoon she was recovered of her sickness. Then the king gave him a great\npresent, and his fame was spread abroad, and many resorted to him, and\nsoon he was rich.\n\nThus two years passed, and at the end thereof he himself lay sick. And\nhe looked and saw Charos standing at the head of his bed. Then he bade\nhis wife turn the bed about, but it availed nothing; for Charos again\nstood at his head, and caught him by the hair, and he opened his mouth\nto cry out, and Charos drew forth his soul[194].\u2019\n\nAgain the unwillingness of Charos to execute the harsh decrees of God\nis illustrated in numerous folk-songs. Most often it is some brave\nyouth, shepherd or warrior, a lover of the open air, who excites his\ncompassion; for the same notes of regret which Sophocles made melodious\nin the farewell of Ajax to the sunlight, to his house in Salamis, even\nto the streams and springs of the Trojan land which brought his death,\nring clear and true in modern folk-song too from the lips of dying\nwarriors. Such were the last words of the outlaw-patriot (\u03ba\u03bb\u03ad\u03c6\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2)\nZedros:\n\n    \u2018Farewell, Olympus, now farewell, and all the mountain-summits,\n    Farewell, my strongholds desolate, and plane-trees rich in shadow,\n    Ye fountains with your waters cool, and level plains low-lying.\n    Farewell I bid the swift-winged hawks[195], farewell the royal eagles,\n    Farewell for me the sun I love and the bright-glancing moonlight,\n    That lighted up my path wherein to walk a warrior worthy[196].\u2019\n\nSuch laments are not lost upon Charos, the servant of God, but he must\nneeds turn a deaf ear to prayers for a respite. Clear and final comes\nhis answer, almost in the same words in every ballad[197],\n\n    \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f20\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u1ff6, \u03bb\u03b5\u03b2\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n    \u1f10\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03bc\u2019 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u2019 \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03c9 \u03c4\u1f74 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n    \u2018No respite can I give, brave sir, for I am straitly charg\u00e8d;\n    \u2019Tis God that sent me here to thee, sent me to take thy spirit.\u2019\n\nSometimes then the doomed man will seek to tempt Charos with meat and\ndrink, that he may grant a few hours\u2019 delay, but against offers of\nhospitality he is obdurate. Or again his victim refuses to yield to\ndeath \u2018without weakness or sickness\u2019 and challenges him to a trial\nof athletic skill, in wrestling or leaping, whereon each shall stake\nhis own soul. And to this Charos sometimes gives consent, for he\nknows that he will win. So they make their way to the \u2018marble-paved\nthreshing-floor,\u2019 the arena of all manly pursuits; and there the man\nperchance leaps forty cubits, yet Charos surpasses him by five; or\nthey wrestle together from morn till eve, but at the last bout Charos\nis victor. One hero indeed is known to fame, whose exploits make him\nthe Heracles of modern Greece, Digenes the Cyprian, who wrestled with\nCharos for three nights and days and was not vanquished. But then\n\u2018there came a voice from God and from the Archangels, \u201cCharos, I sent\nthee not to engage in wrestlings, but that thou should\u2019st carry off\nsouls for me[198].\u201d\u2019 And at that rebuke Charos transformed himself into\nan eagle and alighted on the hero\u2019s head and plucked out his soul.\n\nThe other and more pagan conception of Charos excludes all traits\nof kindness and mercy; and men do not stint the expression of their\nhatred of him. He is \u2018black,\u2019 \u2018bitter,\u2019 \u2018hateful\u2019 (\u03bc\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2[199], \u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2,\n\u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2). He is the merciless potentate of the nether world,\nindependent of the God of heaven, equally powerful in his own domain,\nbut more terrible, more inexorable: for his work is death and his abode\nis Hades. Thence he issues forth at will, as a hunter to the chase.\n\u2018Against the wounds that Charos deals herbs avail not, physicians give\nno cure, nor saints protection[200].\u2019 His quarry is the soul of man;\n\u2018where he finds three, he takes two of them, and where he finds two,\ntakes one, and where he finds but one alone, him too he takes[201].\u2019\nSometimes he is enlarging his palace, and he takes the young and strong\nto be its pillars; sometimes he is repairing the tent in which he\ndwells, and uses the stout arms of heroes for tent-pegs and the tresses\nof bright-haired maidens for the ropes; sometimes he is laying out a\ngarden, and he gathers children from the earth to be the flowers of\nit and young men to be its tall slim cypresses; more rarely he is a\nvintager, and tramples men in his vat that their blood may be his red\nwine, or again he carries a sickle and reaps a human harvest.\n\nBut most commonly he is the warrior pre\u00ebminent in all manner of\nprowess--archer, wrestler, horseman. Once a bride boasted that she\nhad no fear of Charos, for that her brothers were men of valour and\nher husband a hero; then came Charos and shot an arrow at her, and\nher beauty faded; a second and a third arrow, and he stretched her\non her death-bed[202]. Often in the pride of strength have young\nwarriors laughed Charos to scorn; then has he come to seize the\nstrongest of them, and though the warrior strain and struggle as in\na wrestling-match, yet Charos wearies not but wins the contest by\nfair means or foul: for he is no honourable foe, but dishonest above\nthieves, more deceitful than women[203]: he seizes his adversary by the\nhair and drags him down to Hades. Even more striking is the picture of\nCharos as horseman riding forth on his black steed to the foray, and\nit is this conception which has inspired one of the finest achievements\nof the popular muse:--\n\n    Why stand the mountains black and sad, their brows enwrapped in darkness?\n    Is it a wind that buffets them? is it a storm that lashes?\n    No, \u2019tis no wind that buffets them, nor \u2019tis no storm that lashes;\n    But \u2019tis great Charos passing by, and the dead passing with him.\n    He drives the young men on before, he drags the old behind him,\n    And at his saddle-bow are ranged the helpless little children.\n    The children cling and cry to him, the old men call beseeching,\n    \u201cGood Charos, at some hamlet halt, halt at some cooling fountain;\n    There let the young men heave the stone, the old men drink of water,\n    There let the little children go agathering pretty posies.\u201d\n    \u201cNo, not at hamlet will I halt, nor yet at cooling fountain,\n    Lest mothers come draw water there and know their little children,\n    Lest wife and husband meet again and there be no more parting.\u201d\n\nSuch is the more pagan presentment of the modern Charos, a tyrant as\nabsolute in his own realm as God in heaven, a veritable \u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2[204]\nas was Hades of old, but hard of heart, heedless of prayer, delighting\nin cruelty.\n\nAt first sight then the Charos of modern Greece would seem to have\nlittle in common with the Charon of ancient Greece beyond the name and\nsome connexion with death: and Fauriel, in the introduction to his\ncollection of popular songs, pronounces the opinion that in this case\nthe usual tendencies of tradition have been reversed, in that it is the\nname that has survived, while the attributes have been changed[205].\nTo this judgement I cannot subscribe. I suspect that in ancient times\nthe literary presentation of Charon was far more circumscribed than the\npopular, and that out of a profusion of imaginative portraitures as\nvaried as those seen in the folk-songs of to-day one aspect of Charon\nbecame accepted among educated men as the correct and fashionable\npresentment. Hades was, in literature, the despot of the lower world,\nand for Charon no place could be found save that of ferryman. But this,\nI think, was only one out of the many guises in which the ancient\nCharon was figured by popular imagination; for at the present day the\nremnants of such a conception are small, in spite of the fact that\nthere has remained a custom which should have kept it alive--the custom\nof putting a coin in the mouth of the dead.\n\nOnly in one folk-song, recorded from Zacynthos, can I find the old\nliterary representation of Charon as ferryman of the Styx unmistakably\nreproduced. The following is a literal rendering:--\u2018Across the river\nthat none may ford Charos was passing, and one soul was on the bank and\ngave him greeting. \u201cGood Charos, long life to thee, well-beloved; take\nme, even me, with thee, take me, dear Charos! A poor man\u2019s soul was I,\neven of a poor man and a beggar; men left me destitute and I perished\nfor lack of a crumb of barley-bread. No last rites did they give me,\nthey gave me none, poor soul, not even a farthing in my mouth for\nthee who dost await me. Poor were my children, poor and without hope;\ndestitute were they and lay in death unburied, poor souls. Them thou\ndid\u2019st take, good Charos, them thou did\u2019st take, I saw thee, when thy\ncold hand seized them by the hair. Take me too, Charos, take me, take\nme, poor soul; take me yonder, take me yonder, no other waiteth for\nthee.\u201d Thus cried to him the poor man\u2019s soul, and Charos made answer,\n\u201cCome, soul, thou art good, and God hath pitied thee.\u201d Then took he the\nsoul and set her on the other bank, and spreading then his sail he sped\nfar away[206].\u2019\n\nIn another song[207] of the same collection, hailing also from\nZacynthos, there may be a reminiscence of the same old tradition. In\nit Charos has a ca\u00efque with black sails and black oars and goes to and\nfro--whence and whither is not told--with cargoes of the dead. But more\nprobably the imagery is borrowed from seafaring; the Greek peasant\nwould hardly imagine a ca\u00efque plying on a river; the streams of his own\ncountry will seldom carry even a small bark. A sea-voyage on the other\nhand is, especially in the imagination of islanders, the most natural\nmethod of departure to a far-off country. From the sea certainly comes\nthe metaphor in a funeral dirge from Zacynthos in which the mourner\nasks of the dead,\n\n    \u03c3\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b2\u03b9 \u03b8\u1f70 \u03b2\u03c1\u03b5\u03b8\u1fc7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u2019\u03c3 \u03c4\u1f76 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf \u03b8\u2019 \u1f00\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u1fc3\u03c2;[208]\n\n    \u2018In what boat wilt thou be and at what haven wilt thou land?\u2019\n\nThis too is claimed by Schmidt[209] as a reminiscence of Charon\u2019s\nferry--somewhat unfortunately; for the next line continues,\n\n    \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03bd\u1f04\u03c1\u03b8\u1fc3 \u1f21 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bd\u03ac \u03c3\u03b5 \u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u1fc3,\n\n    \u2018That thy mother may come and ransom thee again.\u2019\n\nNow in another dirge[210] also heard by Schmidt in the same island,\nthis idea is worked out even more fully: the mother cries to the master\nof the ship that bears away her lost son not to sell him, and offers\nhigh ransom for him; but the dead man in answer bids her keep her\ntreasure; \u2018not till the crow doth whiten and become a dove, must thou,\nmother mine, look for me again.\u2019 Clearly the imagery is borrowed not\nfrom the ferry-boat of Charon plying for hire, but from a descent of\npirates who carry men off to hold them to ransom or to sell them for\nslaves. In neither dirge is Charos actually named, but doubtless he is\nunderstood to be the captain of the pirates; for in more than one dirge\nof Laconia and Maina he is explicitly called \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, a corsair[211].\n\nHere then we have yet another presentation of the modern Charos; but\nof Charon the ferryman there is no sure remembrance except in one song\nfrom Zacynthos. Nor again, save in that one song, is the river of death\nimagined as an impassable barrier; it is rather a stream of Lethe: no\nboatman is needed to carry the dead across; but mention is made only\nof \u2018the loved ones, that pass the river and drink the water thereof,\nand forget their homes and their orphan children[212]\u2019--just as in the\nmountains there are \u2018springs in marble grots, whereat the wild sheep\ndrink and remember no more their lambs[213].\u2019 It is the drinking of the\nwater, not the passing of the stream, which frees the dead from aching\nmemories: the picture is wholly different from that of a river which\ncannot be crossed but by grace of the ferryman.\n\nThe general oblivion into which the ancient conception of Charon has\nfallen is the more remarkable, as I have said, in view of the survival\nof a custom which in antiquity was closely associated with it. In parts\nof Macedonia, Thrace, and Asia Minor the practice prevails[214], or\ntill recently prevailed, of placing in the mouth (or more rarely on\nthe breast) of the dead a small coin, which in the environs of Smyrna\nis actually known as \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03ba\u03b9, passage-money[215]. In the Cyclades\nand in parts of the Greek mainland I myself have met aged persons\nwho could recall the existence of the custom: a century or two ago\nit was probably frequent. But there is less evidence that the coin\nwas commonly intended for Charos. Protodikos indeed, the authority\nfor the existence of the custom in Asia Minor, writing in 1860, says\nexpressly that the coin was designed for Charos as ferryman; and the\nname of \u2018passage-money\u2019 locally given to the coin tends to confirm\nthe statement of a writer whom I have found in some other matters\ninaccurate. Another authority[216] moreover, writing also in 1860,\nstates that at Stenimachos in Thrace \u2018until a short time ago\u2019 the coin\nwas laid in the mouth of the dead actually for Charos; nor can there be\nany question that the classical interpretation of the custom survived\nlong in Zacynthos, as is evidenced by the complaint of the poor man\u2019s\nsoul in the song translated above,\n\n    \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bd\u1f70 \u1f10\u03bc\u1f72 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u03bf\u1f54\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd, \u03b4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03bf\u1f54\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03cb\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2,\n    \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03b5\u03c6\u03c4\u1f78 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c3\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2,\n\n \u2018No last rites did they give me, they gave me none, poor soul, not\n even a farthing in my mouth for thee (Charos) who awaitest me.\u2019\n\nYet Schmidt, who recorded these lines from Zacynthos, found that the\nactual custom was barely remembered there. He met indeed, in 1863,\none old woman aged eighty-two, who as a child had known the practice\nof putting a copper in the mouth of the dead as also that of laying a\nkey on the corpse\u2019s breast; but of the purpose of the coin she knew\nnothing; the key she believed to be useful for opening the gates of\nParadise. For myself, though I have heard mention of the use of the\ncoin, I have never known it to be associated with Charos. I incline\ntherefore to the opinion that in most places where the custom is or has\nrecently been practised, it has outlived the interpretation which was\nin classical times put upon it.\n\nBut was the classical interpretation a true index to the origin of\nthe custom? Was it anything more than an aetiological explanation of\na custom whose significance even in an early age had already become\nobscured by lapse of time? One thing at least has been made certain\nby the modern study of folklore, namely that a custom may outlive not\nonly the idea which gave it birth but even successive false ideas which\nit has itself engendered in the minds of men who have sought vainly\nto explain it. When therefore Lucian[217] stated that \u2018they put an\nobol in the dead man\u2019s mouth as boat-fare for the ferryman,\u2019 it is\npossible that he was recording a late and incorrect interpretation of\na custom which had existed before the r\u00f4le of ferryman had ever been\ninvented for Charon. Further if that interpretation had been in the\nmain a literary figment, it would have been natural for the original\nmeaning of the custom to be still remembered among the unlettered\ncommon-folk of outlying districts. There are plenty of cases in modern\nGreece in which different explanations of the same custom are offered\nin different localities. In spite therefore of the fact that one view\nonly found expression in classical literature, there is no antecedent\nimprobability in the supposition that an older view may have been\nhanded down even to recent generations in the purer oral traditions of\nthe common-folk.\n\nOnce only, from a fellow-traveller in the Cyclades, did I obtain any\nexplanation at all of the use of the coin, \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78 \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac[218],\n\u2018it is useful because of the a\u00ebrial ones.\u2019 This sounds vague enough,\nbut nothing more save gestures of uncertainty could I elicit. Was the\ncoin useful, in his view, as a fee to be paid to \u2018the a\u00ebrial ones\u2019 on\nthe soul\u2019s journey from this world to the next, or as a charm against\nthe assaults of such beings? That was the question to which I sought an\nanswer from him, but in vain. For myself I cannot determine in which\nsense the dark saying was actually meant. The former would accord well\nwith one local belief of the present day, if only my informant had\nspecified one particular kind of a\u00ebrial beings who are believed to\ntake toll of departing souls; but to this I shall return in a later\nsection of this chapter[219]. The second interpretation of the words,\nhowever, whether they were intended in that sense by the speaker or\nnot, furnishes what will be shown by other evidence to be the key to\nthe origin of the custom.\n\nA coin is often used as a charm against sinister influences[220]. In\nthis case then it may have been a prophylactic against a\u00ebrial spirits.\nWhy then is it generally put in the dead man\u2019s mouth? Not, I think,\nbecause the mouth is a convenient purse, as seems to be assumed in the\nclassical interpretation of the custom, but because the mouth is the\nentrance to the body. The peasants of to-day believe as firmly as men\nof the Homeric age that it is through the mouth that the soul escapes\nat death. The phrase \u03bc\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f74 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1, \u2018with the soul between\nthe teeth,\u2019 is the popular equivalent for \u2018at the last gasp\u2019; and in\nthe folk-songs the same idea constantly recurs; \u2018open thy mouth,\u2019 says\nCharos to a shepherd whom he has thrown in wrestling, \u2018open thy mouth\nthat I may take thy soul[221].\u2019 Now the passage by which the soul\nmakes its exit, is naturally the passage by which evil spirits (or the\nsoul[222], if it should return,) would make their entrance; and, as we\nshall see later, there is a very real fear among the peasantry that a\ndead body may be entered and possessed by an evil spirit. Clearly then\nthe mouth, by which the spirit would enter, is the right place in which\nto lay the protective coin.\n\nThe interpretation which I suggest gains support from some points in\nmodern usage. In Macedonia, according to one traveller[223], the coin\nwhich formerly used to be laid in the corpse\u2019s mouth was Turkish and\nbore a text from the Koran, an aggravation of the pagan custom which\nwas made a pretext for episcopal intervention[224]. Now clearly, if the\ncoin had in that district been designed as payment for the services\nof Charos as ferryman, there would have been no motive for preferring\none bearing an inscription from the Mohammedan scriptures, which\nassuredly could not enhance the coin\u2019s value in the eyes of Charos:\nbut if the coin was itself employed as a charm against evil spirits,\nthe sacred text might well have been deemed to add not a little to its\nprophylactic properties. Thus the character of the particular type\nof coin chosen indicates that the coin in itself too was at one time\nviewed as a charm; a charm moreover whose effect would be precisely\nthat of the key which in the island of Zacynthos was also laid upon the\ndead man\u2019s breast; for the key was certainly not designed, as Schmidt\u2019s\ninformant would have it, to open the gates of Paradise, but, like any\nother piece of iron, served originally to scare away spirits. The use\nof a coin as well as of a key in that island was merely meant to make\nassurance doubly sure.\n\nAgain, in many places throughout Greece, where this use of a coin is no\nlonger known, a substitute of more Christian character has been found.\nOn the lips of the dead is laid either a morsel of consecrated bread\nfrom the Eucharist[225], or more commonly a small piece of pottery--a\nfragment it may be of any earthenware vessel--on which is incised\nthe sign of the cross with the legend \u0399. \u03a7. \u039d\u0399. \u039a\u0391. (\u2018Jesus Christ\nconquers\u2019) in the four angles[226]. Here the choice of the inscribed\nwords of itself seems to indicate the intention of barring the dead\nman\u2019s mouth against the entrance of evil spirits; and as final proof\nof my theory I find that in both Chios[227] and Rhodes[228], where a\nwholly or partially Christianised form of the custom prevails, the\ncharm employed is definitely understood by the people to be a means of\nprecaution against a devil entering the dead body and resuscitating it.\nNor must the mention of a devil in this connexion be taken as evidence\nthat the Chian and Rhodian interpretation of the custom is not ancient.\nI shall be able to show in a later chapter that the idea of a devil\nentering the corpse is only the Christian version of a pagan belief in\na possible re-animation of the corpse by the soul[229].\n\nBut there is yet another variety of the custom, in which no coin and no\nMohammedan nor Christian[230] symbol is used, but a charm whose magic\nproperties were in repute long before Mohammed, long before Christ,\nprobably long before coinage was known to Greece. Again a piece of\npottery is used, but the symbol stamped upon it is the geometrical\nfigure [pentagram], the \u2018pentacle\u2019 of mediaeval magic lore. In Greece\nit is now known as \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03bb\u03c6\u03b1, but of its properties, beyond the fact\nthat it serves as a charm[231], the people have nothing to say. In the\nmediaeval and probably in the yet earlier magic of Europe and the East\nit is one of the commonest figures, appearing sometimes as Solomon\u2019s\nseal, sometimes as the star which led the wise men to Bethlehem,\nsometimes, in black colouring, as a symbol of the principle of evil,\nand correspondingly, in white, as the symbol of the principle of good.\nBut though the figure has been known to the magicians of many nations\nand many epochs, there is no reason to suppose that it is in recent\ntimes or from other races that the Greeks have learnt it: for it was\nknown too by the ancient Greeks, who noted among its more intelligible\nproperties the fact that the five lines composing it can be drawn\nwithout removing pencil from paper. The Pythagoreans, who called it\nthe \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd[232], are known to have attached to it some mystic\nvalue. There is a reasonable likelihood therefore that the symbol has\nbeen handed down in Greece as a magical charm--for we have seen how\nmany other methods of magic have survived--from the time of Pythagoras.\nFurther back we cannot penetrate; yet--_vixere fortes ante Agamemnona_,\nand there were professors of occult sciences before Pythagoras. Was\nit then he who first discovered the figure\u2019s mystic value? Or did he\nmerely adopt and interpret in his own way a symbol which for long ages\nbefore him had been endowed with magical powers? Was it perhaps this\nfigure, graven on some broken potsherd, which long before coinage\nsupplied a more ready charm protected the corpse from possession by\nevil spirits, or rather, in those days, from reanimation by the soul?\nWho shall say? The belief, which has found its modern expression in\nthe engraving of Christian or Mohammedan texts on prophylactic coins\nor pottery and in barring with them the door of the lips which gives\naccess to the corpse, is certainly primitive enough in character to\ndate from the dimmest prehistoric age.\n\nIf my suggestion as to the origin of the custom is correct, it was only\nthe accident of a coin being commonly used as the prophylactic charm,\nwhich caused the classical association of the custom with Charon; and,\nonce disembarrassed of this association, the popular conception of\nCharon in antiquity is more easily studied.\n\nThe literary presentation of him in the guise of a ferryman only is a\ncomparatively late development. The early poets know nothing of him\nwhatever in any character. The first literary reference to him was\napparently in the _Minyad_, an epic poem of doubtful but not early\ndate, of which two lines referring to the descent of Theseus and\nPirithous to the lower world ran thus: \u2018There verily the ship whereon\nthe dead embark, even that which the aged Charon as ferryman doth\nguide, they found not at its anchorage[233].\u2019 These are the lines by\nwhich Pausanias believed that Polygnotus had been guided when painting\nthe figure of Charon in his famous representation of the nether world\nat Delphi. Thenceforth this was the one orthodox presentation of Charon\nin both literature and art. Euripides and Aristophanes in numerous\npassages[234] both alike conform to it, and the painters of funeral\nvases were equally faithful.\n\nBut there is evidence to show that this was not the popular conception\nof Charon, or at any rate not the whole of it. Phrases occur (and were\nprobably current in classical times) which seem to imply a larger\nconception of Charon\u2019s office and functions. The \u2018door of Charon\u2019\n(\u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b8\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1[235] or \u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd[236]) was that by which condemned\nprisoners were led out to execution. The \u2018staircase of Charon\u2019\n(\u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bb\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03be[237]) was that by which ghosts in drama ascended\nto the stage, as if they were appearing from the nether world. To\nCharon likewise were ascribed in popular parlance many caverns of\nforbidding aspect, particularly those that were filled with mephitic\nvapours--\u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b2\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1\u03b8\u03c1\u03b1[238], \u03c3\u03c0\u03ae\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03b1[239], \u1f04\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1[240]. Finally\n\u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 is Plutarch\u2019s[241] rendering of the Latin _Orcini_, the\n_sobriquet_ given to the low persons whom Caesar brought up into the\nSenate. These uses point to a popular conception of Charon larger\nthan classical art and literature reveal, and justify Suidas\u2019 simple\nidentification of Charon with death[242].\n\nMoreover once in Euripides, for all his strict adherence to the\nconventional literary characterisation of Charon, a glimpse of popular\nthought is reflected in the person of Death (\u0398\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2) and the part\nwhich he plays in the _Alcestis_. First, in the altercation between\nApollo and Death over the fate of Alcestis, there occur the words,\n\u2018Take her and go thy way; for I know not whether I should persuade\nthee\u2019; to which Death answers, \u2018Persuade me to slay those whom I must?\nnay, \u2019tis with this that I am charged\u2019 (\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03ac\u03b3\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1[243]).\nCan it be a mere coincidence that, in modern folk-song, when some\ndoomed man seeks to persuade Charos to grant a respite, he answers,\n\u2018Nay, brave sir, I cannot; for I am straitly charged\u2019? The very word\n\u2018charged,\u2019 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, the modern form of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, repeats\nthe word placed by Euripides in the mouth of Death. Secondly, Death\nappears in warrior-guise, just as does Charos most commonly in modern\nfolk-songs; he is girt with a sword[244], and it is by wrestling[245]\nthat Heracles vanquishes him and makes him yield up his prey. Is this\nagain a mere coincidence? Or was Euripides, in his personification\nof Death, utilising the character popularly assigned to Charon? It\nlooks indeed in one line as if the poet had almost forgotten that he\nwas not using the popular name also; otherwise there is no excuse\nfor the inelegance of making Death inflict death[246]. It is hardly\nsurprising that the copyist of one[247] of the extant manuscripts of\nthe _Alcestis_ was so impressed with the likeness of Death to Charon\nas he knew him, that he altered the name of the _dramatis persona_\naccordingly.\n\nIn the Anthology again Charon appears several times[248] acting in a\nmore extended capacity than that of ferryman; as in modern folk-songs,\nhe actually seizes men and carries them off to the nether world. One\nepigram is particularly noticeable as seeming to have been suggested by\na passage of the _Alcestis_. \u2018Is there then any way whereby Alcestis\nmight come unto old age?\u2019 asks Apollo; and Death answers, \u2018There is\nnone; I too must have the pleasure of my dues.\u2019 \u2018Yet,\u2019 says Apollo,\n\u2018thou wilt not get more than the one soul,\u2019--be it now or later. And\nsimilarly the epigram from the Anthology, save that Death is frankly\nnamed Charon. \u2018Charon ever insatiable, why hast thou snatched away\nAttalus needlessly in his youth? Was he not thine, an he had died old?\u2019\n\nClearly, it would seem, Euripides knew a popular conception of Charon\nother than that which literary and artistic tradition had crystallised\nas the orthodox presentation, but rather than break through the\nconventions by bringing Charon on the stage otherwise than as ferryman,\nhe had recourse to a purely artificial personification of death.\n\nBut the conception of Charon as lord of death can be traced yet\nfurther back than the time of Euripides. Hesychius states that the\ntitle \u1f08\u03ba\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2[249] was shared by two gods, Charon and Uranus. Charon\ntherefore, as son of Acmon and brother of Uranus, is earlier by two\nlong generations of gods than Zeus himself, and belongs to the old\nPelasgian order of deities. Was Charon then the god of death among the\nold Pelasgian population of Greece, before ever the name of Hades or\nPluto had been invented or imported? Yes, if the corroboration from\nanother Pelasgian source, the Etruscans, is to count for anything. On\nan Etruscan monument figures the god of death with the inscription\n\u2018Charun\u2019[250]; and the same person is frequently depicted on urns,\nsarcophagi, and vases[251]. Usually the door of the nether world is\nto be seen behind him; either he is issuing forth to seek his prey,\nor he is about to enter there with a victim who stands close beside\nhim, his hand clasped in that of wife or friend to whom he bids\nfarewell[252]. In appearance he is most often an old bearded man\n(though a more youthful type is also known) bearing an axe or mallet,\nand more rarely a sword as well, wherewith he pursues men and slays\nthem[253]. In effect the Etruscan Charun closely corresponds with the\nmodern Greek Charos in functions as well as in name. The coincidence\nallows of one explanation only. The Greeks of the present day must\nhave inherited their idea of Charos from ancestors who were closely\nconnected with the Etruscans and to whom Charon was the god of death\nwho came to seize men\u2019s souls and carry them off to his realm in the\nnether world. These ancestors can only have been the original Pelasgian\npopulation of Greece. In classical times the primitive conception\nof Charon was in abeyance. Hades had assumed the reins of government\nin the nether world; and a literary legend, which confined Charon\nto the work of ferryman, had gained vogue and supplanted or rather\ntemporarily suppressed the older conception. But this version, it\nappears, never gained complete mastery of the popular imagination, and\nto the common-folk of Greece from the Pelasgian era down to this day\nCharon has ever been more warrior than ferryman, and his equipment an\naxe or sword or bow rather than a pair of sculls. More is to be learnt\nof the real Charon of antiquity from modern folk-lore than from all the\nallusions of classical literature.\n\n\n\u00a7 7. APHRODITE AND EROS.\n\nIn the story of S. Demetra communicated to Lenormant at Eleusis and\nnarrated above, we have already had one instance of the preservation of\nAphrodite\u2019s name. \u2018Since the lady Aphrodite (\u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u2018\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c4\u03b7) none had\nbeen seen so lovely\u2019 as S. Demetra\u2019s daughter. Another story related to\nPerrot[254] by an Attic peasant in the year 1858 contains both the name\nof the goddess and some reminiscences of her worship. The gist of it is\nas follows. There once was a very beautiful queen, by name Aphrodite,\nwho had a castle at Daphni (just half-way on the road from Athens to\nEleusis) and also owned the heights of Acro-Corinth; these two places\nshe had caused to be connected by a subterranean way which passed under\nthe sea. Now there were two kings both of whom were smitten with her\nbeauty and sought her hand in marriage. She herself favoured one of\nthem and hated the other; but not wishing to declare her preference and\nso arouse the anger of the rejected suitor, she announced that she was\nabout to build a palace on the height of Acro-Corinth, and would set\nher suitors each a task to perform; one should build the fortifications\nround the summit, the other should sink a well to provide the castle\nwith water[255]; and she promised her hand to the suitor who should\nfirst complete his task. Now she supposed the sinking of the well\nto be the lighter task and therefore assigned it to the suitor whom\nshe favoured; but he met with unforeseen difficulties, and his rival\nmeanwhile made steady progress with the walls. At last they were\nwellnigh built, and it remained only to put in place the keystone over\nthe main gate. Then Aphrodite, marking the danger, went with winning\nwords and smiles and bade the builder lay aside his tools, for the\nprize was now safely in his grasp, and led him away to a grassy spot\nwhere she beguiled him so long with tender words and caresses, that\nthe other suitor meanwhile redoubling his efforts pierced the rock and\nfound water in plenty.\n\nIn this story the character, as well as the name, of the queen\nis that of the ancient goddess; but there are other points too\ndeserving of notice. Perrot points out that in the neighbourhood of\nthe modern monastery at Daphni there stood in antiquity a temple\nof Aphrodite[256]; and to this fact Schmidt[257], in commenting on\nthe story, adds that on the summit of Acro-Corinth also there was a\nsanctuary of the goddess[258], while he accounts for the mention of\nthat place in an Attic story by the fact that Corinth was specially\nfamous for the worship of Aphrodite.\n\nNo other vestiges of the actual name, so far as I know, are to be\nfound, save that among certain Maniote settlers in Corsica the corrupt\nderivative, \u1f08\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1[259] (which would perhaps be better spelt\n\u1f08\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1) was until recent times at any rate applied to an equally\ncorrupt class of women, votaries of \u1f08\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c4\u03b7 \u03a0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2. In a few stories\nhowever from Zacynthos[260] the same goddess is prettily described as \u1f21\n\u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f1c\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1[261], \u2018the Mother of Love,\u2019 a title competent in itself\nto establish her identity.\n\nThe first of these stories tells how a poor maiden fell in love with a\nyouth of high degree, and went to the Mother of Love to ask her help.\nThe latter promised to ask the assistance of her son Eros (\u1f1c\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2) when\nhe came home. Next morning went Eros with bow and arrows and sat at the\nmaiden\u2019s door till the swain passed by. Then suddenly he shot his arrow\nat him, and the young man loved the maiden and took her to wife.\n\nAnother yet more remarkable story introduces us to the garden of Eros,\nwhither a prince once went to fetch water to cure the blindness of\nthe king, his father. \u2018There at the entrance he beheld a woman that\nwas the fairest upon earth; she sat at the gate and played with a boy\nwho had wings and in his hand held a bow and many arrows. The garden\nwas full of roses, and over them hovered many little winged boys like\nbutterflies. In the midst of this garden was a spring, whence the\nhealing water flowed. As the king\u2019s son drew near to this spring, he\nespied therein a woman white as snow and shining as the moon; and it\nwas in very truth the moon that bathed there. Beside the spring sat a\nsecond woman of exceeding beauty who was the Mother of Eros (\u1f21 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u1f1c\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1).\u2019 She gave him the water and her blessing, and his father was\nhealed.\n\nThe distinct reminiscence of Artemis in this story will be noticed\nlater[262]; here we need only notice a few points in the story relating\nto Eros and his mother. The description of the \u2018boy who had wings\nand in his hand held a bow and many arrows\u2019 is simply and purely\nclassical, according exactly with the Orphic address to him as \u03c4\u03bf\u03be\u03ac\u03bb\u03ba\u03b7,\n\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1[263]. The \u2018woman at the gate who was the fairest upon earth\u2019\nis in all probability the same as \u2018the Mother of Eros\u2019 beside the\nspring, the single personality, by some vagary in the transmission of\nthe story, having become duplicated. The roses, of which the garden was\nfull, are the flower always sacred to Aphrodite, the sweetest emblem of\nlove; and over these it is fitting that the \u2018little winged boys\u2019 should\nhover, brothers as it were of Eros, ever-fresh embodiments of love, to\nall of whom, in antiquity, Aphrodite was mother[264].\n\nThese folk-tales present sufficient evidence that the memory of the\nname and attributes of Aphrodite survived locally until recent times\nto warrant the conclusion that her worship, like that of other pagan\ndeities, possessed vitality enough to compete for a long while with\nChristianity for the favour of the common-folk; but as a personality\nshe is no longer present, I think, to their consciousness; she is at\nmost only a character in a few folk-stories--if indeed the present\ngeneration has not forgotten even these. For my part, I never heard\nmention of her in story or otherwise, although her son, the winged\nEros, is often named in the love-songs which form a large part of the\npopular poetry.\n\nVows and offerings which would in former days have been made to\nAphrodite are now made either to suitable saints who have taken her\nplace, such as S. Catharine[265], or to the Fates (\u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2), who\nwere from of old associated with her. According to a fragment of\nEpimenides[266], \u2018golden Aphrodite and the deathless Fates\u2019 were\ndaughters of Cronos and Euonyme. Their sisterly relation was recognised\nalso in cult. Near the Ilissus once stood a temple containing an old\nwooden statue (\u03be\u03cc\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd) of Heavenly Aphrodite with an inscription naming\nher \u2018eldest of the Fates\u2019 (\u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b2\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd)[267]. So venerable a\nshrine must in old time have witnessed many a petition for success in\nlove; and when we bear in mind the ancient inscription of the statue,\nit is interesting to find that among the girls of Athens until recent\ntimes the custom prevailed of visiting the so-called \u2018hollow hill[268]\u2019\n(\u03c4\u03c1\u03cd\u03c0\u03b9\u03bf \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03cc) in the immediate neighbourhood to offer to the Fates\ncakes with honey and salt and to consult them as to their destined\nhusbands[269].\n\nSacred also to Aphrodite in old days was a cave in the neighbourhood\nof Naupactus, frequented particularly by widows anxious to be\nremarried[270]. At the present day a cave at the foot of Mt Rigani,\nwhich may probably be identified as the old sanctuary, is the spot to\nwhich girls repair in order to consult the Fates on the all-absorbing\nquestion[271].\n\nThus it seems that \u2018golden Aphrodite\u2019 has disappeared from the old\nsisterly group of deities, and that \u2018the deathless Fates\u2019 alone remain\nto receive prayers and to grant boons which once fell within the\nprovince rather of Aphrodite. To the Fates we must now turn.\n\n\n\u00a7 8. THE FATES.\n\nThe custom of taking or sending offerings to a cave haunted by the\nFates, of which we have just seen two examples, is widely extended\namong the women of Greece. In Athens, besides the \u2018hollow hill,\u2019 two\nor three of the old rock-dwellings round about the Hill of the Muses\nwere formerly a common resort for the same purpose, and the practice\nthough rarer now is not yet extinct[272]. Among the best-known of these\nresorts is the so-called Prison of Socrates. Dodwell, in his account\nof his travels in Greece at the beginning of last century, states that\nhe found there \u2018in the inner chamber, a small feast consisting of a\ncup of honey and white almonds, a cake on a little napkin, and a vase\nof aromatic herbs burning and exhaling an agreeable perfume[273]\u2019; and\nthe observance of the custom is known to have continued in that place\ndown to recent years[274]. The same practice, I was informed at Sparta,\nis known at the present day to the peasant-women of the surrounding\nplain, who will undertake even a long and wearisome journey to lay a\nhoney-cake in a certain cave on one of the eastern spurs of Ta\u00ffgetus.\nOther places in which to my own knowledge the custom still continues\nare Agrinion in Aetolia and neighbouring districts, the villages of Mt\nPelion in Thessaly, and the island of Scyros; and from the testimony\nof many other observers I conclude that it is, or was till recently,\nuniversal in Greek lands.\n\nNor does there seem to be much variety in the subjects on which the\npeasant-women consult the Fates: with the girls matrimony, with the\nmarried women maternity, is the perpetually recurring theme. Everywhere\nalso honey in some form is an essential part of the offering by which\nthe Fates\u2019 favour is to be won. The acceptance of this offering, and\ntherefore also the success of the prayers which accompany it, are\noccasionally, as in the cave near Sparta which I have mentioned,\ninferred from omens provided by the dripping of water from the roof of\nthe cave; but more usually the realisation of the conjugal aspirations\nis not assured, unless a second visit to the sanctuary, three days or a\nmonth later, proves that the sweetmeats have been accepted by the Fates\nand are gone. This, I am told, occurs with some frequency. Dodwell\nmentions that his donkey ate some[275]; and considering the character\nof the offerings--cakes and honey for the most part, for only in the\n\u2018hollow hill\u2019 at Athens was salt added thereto--it is not surprising\nif the Fates find many willing proxies, human and canine as well as\nasinine.\n\nAt the moment when these delicacies are proffered, an invocation is\nrecited. This may take the form of a metrical line,\n\n    \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03ad \u03bc\u03b5, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78 \u03c6\u03b1\u03b3\u1f76 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03bd\u03c9,\n\n    \u2018Kind Fates, ordain my fate, for I bring you good fare,\u2019\n\nor may be a simple prose formulary,\n\n \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5 \u1f21 \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1, \u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c6\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bd\u1f70\n \u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5 \u03bd\u1f04\u03c7\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03bc\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1[276],\n\n \u2018Fates above all Fates, and Fate of N., come ye, I pray, and eat, and\n ordain anew the fate of N., that she may have a good fate.\u2019\n\nVarious other versions are also on record, one of which will be\nconsidered later; but these two examples illustrate sufficiently for\nthe present the simple Homeric tenour of such prayers.\n\nThe words which I have quoted, it must be admitted, give clear\nexpression to the hope that the Fates may revise the decrees which they\nhave already pronounced on the fortunes of the suppliant. Nevertheless\nthat such a hope should be fulfilled is contrary to the general beliefs\nof the people. The Fates, they know, are inexorable so far as concerns\nthe changing of any of their purposes once set; for, as their proverb\nruns, \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u1f91 \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03be\u03b5\u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd, \u2018what the Fates write,\nthat they make not unwritten[277].\u2019 They are not, it would appear,\nsubordinate, as Charon is sometimes deemed to be, even to the supreme\nGod; I can find no song or story that would so present them. They are\nabsolute and irresponsible in the fashioning of human destiny. But the\nGreek peasants are not the first who have at the same time believed\nboth in predestination and in the efficacy of prayer. Perhaps all\nunconsciously they reconcile the ideas as did Aeschylus of old:\n\n    \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f14\u03bb\u03b8\u03bf\u03b9[278],\n\n \u2018Destiny hath long been abiding its time, but in answer to prayer may\n come.\u2019\n\nBut even without any intuition of so hard a doctrine the peasant-women\nmay justify their prayers and offerings by the hope that, though the\nFates will detract nothing from the fulfilment of whatsoever they have\nspoken or written, they may be willing to add thereto such supplement\nas shall modify in large measure the issue. For the Fates are as Greek\nin character as their worshippers, and stories are not wanting to\nillustrate the shifts to which they have stooped in order practically\nto invalidate without formally cancelling their whilom purpose.\n\n\u2018Once upon a time a poor woman gave birth to a daughter, and on the\nthird night after the birth the Fates came to ordain the child\u2019s lot.\nAs they entered the cottage they saw prepared for them a table with\na clean cloth and all manner of sweetmeats thereon. So when they had\npartaken thereof and were content, they were kindly disposed toward the\nchild. And the first Fate gave to her long life, and the second beauty,\nand the third chastity. But as they went forth from the cottage, the\nfirst of them tripped against the threshold, and turning in wrath\ntowards the infant pronounced that she should be always an idler.\n\nNow when she was grown up, she was so beautiful that the king\u2019s son\nwould have her to wife. As the wedding-day drew near, her mother and\nher friends chided her because she delayed to make her wedding dress;\nbut she was idle and heeded not. Soon came the eve of the wedding, and\nshe wept because the prince would learn of her idleness and refuse to\ntake her to wife. Now the Fates loved her, and saw her tears and pitied\nher. Therefore they came suddenly before her, and asked why she wept;\nand she told them all. Then sat they down there and spun and weaved and\nembroidered all that night, and in the morning they arrayed her in a\nbridal dress decked with gold and pearls such as had never been seen.\n\nPresently came the prince, and there was much feasting and dancing, and\nshe was far the most beautiful of all the company. And because he saw\nher lovely dress and knew how much toil it must have cost her to array\nherself thus for him, he granted her the favour of doing no more work\nall her days[279].\u2019\n\nThis story, besides illustrating well the finality of every word\npronounced by the Fates and the means which they may employ to mitigate\ntheir own severity, is typical too of the ideas generally accepted\nconcerning the Fates. Their number is three[280], and they are seen\nin the shape of old women, one of whom at least is always engaged\nin spinning. Of the remaining two, one is sometimes seen bearing a\nbook wherein to record in writing the decrees which the three jointly\nutter, while the other carries a pair of scissors wherewith to cut the\nthread of life at the appointed time; or again sometimes these two\nalso are spinning, one of them carrying a basket of wool or a distaff\nand the other fashioning the thread. This association of the Fates\nwith spinning operations is commemorated in certain popular phrases by\nthe comparison of man\u2019s life to a thread. \u2018His thread is cut\u2019 or \u2018is\nfinished\u2019 (\u03ba\u03cc\u03c0\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 or \u03c3\u03ce\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03bb\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5) is a familiar euphemism for\n\u2018he is dead\u2019: and again, with the same ultimate meaning but a somewhat\ndifferent metaphor, the people of Arachova use the phrase \u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03ce\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03c1\u2019 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5[281], \u2018his spindle is wound full,\u2019--an expression which\nseems to imply the idea that the Fates apportion to each man at birth a\nmass of rough wool from which they go on spinning day by day till the\nthread of life is completed.\n\nAccording to Fauriel[282], a reminiscence of the Fates is also to be\nfound in a personification of the plague (\u1f21 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03ba\u03bb\u03b1), which in the\ntradition of some districts is not represented as a single demon but\nhas been multiplied into a trio of terrible women who pass through\nthe towns and devastate them, one of them carrying a roll on which to\nwrite the names of the victims, another a pair of scissors wherewith\nto cut them off from the living, and the third a broom with which to\nsweep them away. He assigns however no reason for identifying the\ndeadly trio with the Fates, and it is more natural, if any link with\nantiquity here exists, to connect them with the Erinyes[283] or other\nsimilar deities. In fact their resemblance to the Fates, save for some\nsuperficial details, is small. The Fates, though inexorable when once\ntheir decree is pronounced, are never wantonly cruel. Their displeasure\nmay indeed be aroused by neglect, as we shall shortly see, to such an\nextent that they will visit the sins of the fathers upon the children.\nBut, when men treat them with the consideration and the reverence due\nto deities, they are unfailingly kindly, and deserve the title by which\nthey are sometimes known, \u1f91 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u2018the good ladies.\u2019 For this\nname is not an euphemism concealing dread and hatred, but an expression\nof genuine reverence; such at any rate is my judgement, based on many\nconversations with the common-folk in all parts of Greece--for on this\ntopic for some reason there is far less reticence than on many others.\nAnd indeed if the character of the Fates were believed to be cruel,\ntheir aspect also would be represented as grim and menacing; whereas\nthey are actually pourtrayed as deserving almost of pity rather than\nawe by reason of their age and their infirmity.\n\nThe occasion on which the Fates have most often been seen by human eyes\nand on which, even though invisible, they never fail to be present,\nis the third night (or as some say the fifth night[284]) after the\nbirth of a child. Provision for their arrival is then scrupulously\nmade. The dog is chained up. Any obstacles over which the visitors\nmight trip in the darkness are removed. The house-door is left open\nor at any rate unlatched. Inside a light is kept burning, and in the\nmiddle of the room is set a low table with three cushions or low stools\nplaced round it--religious conservatism apparently forbidding the use\nof so modern an invention as chairs, for at the lying-in-state before\na funeral also cushions or low stools are provided for the mourners.\nOn the table are set out such dainties as the Fates love, including\nalways honey; in Athens formerly the essentials were a dish of honey,\nthree white almonds, a loaf of bread, and a glass of water[285]; and\nready to hand, as presents from which the goddesses may choose what\nthey will, may be laid all the most costly treasures of the family,\nsuch as jewellery and even money, in token that nothing has been spared\nto give them welcome. These preparations made, their visit is awaited\nin solemn silence; for none must speak when the Fates draw near. Most\noften they are neither seen nor heard; but sometimes, it is said, a\nwakeful mother has seen their forms as they bent over her child and\nwrote their decrees on its brow--for which reason moles and other marks\non the forehead or the nose are in some places called \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c8\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd[286], \u2018writings of the Fates\u2019; sometimes she has heard the low\nsound of their voices as they consulted together over the future of\nthe child; nay more, she has even caught and understood their speech;\nyet even so her foreknowledge of the infant\u2019s fate is unavailing; she\nmay be aware of the dangers which await its ripening years, but though\nforewarned she is powerless to forearm; against destiny once pronounced\nall weapons, all wiles, are futile.\n\nNeglect of any of the due preparations for the visit of the Fates may\nexcite their wrath and cause them to decree an evil lot for the child.\nThis idea is the _motif_ of many fables current in Greece. A typical\nexample is furnished by the following extract from a popular poem in\nwhich a man whose life has brought him nothing but misery sees in a\nvision one of the Fates and appeals to her thus:\n\n    \u2018I beg and pray of thee, O Fate, to tell me now, my lady,\n    Then when my mother brought me forth, what pass\u00e8d at my bearing?\u2019\n\nAnd she makes answer:\n\n    \u2018Then when thy mother brought thee forth, \u2019twas deep and bitter winter,\n    Eleven days o\u2019 the year had run when anguish came upon her.\n    Thereon[287] I robed me and did on this raiment that thou se\u00ebst,\n    And had it in my heart to cry \u201cLong life to thee and riches.\u201d\n    Ah, but the night was deep and dark, yea wrapp\u00e8d thick in darkness,\n    And hail and snow were driving hard, and angry rain was lashing;\n    From mire to mud, from mud to mire, so lay my road before me,\n    And as I went,--a murrain on\u2019t,--against your well I stumbled;\n    Nay, sirrah, an thou believest not, scan well the scars I carry.\n    Two cursed hounds ye had withal, hounds from the Lombard country,\n    And fierce upon me sprang the twain, and fierce as wolves their baying.\n    Then curs\u00e8d I thee full bitterly, a curse of very venom,\n    That no bright day should ever cheer thy miserable body,\n    That thou shouldst burn, that thou shouldst burn, and have no hope of riddance,\n    That joy should ever \u2019scape thy clasp, and sorrow dog thy goings,\n    That thine own kin should slander thee and thy friends rail upon thee,\n    Nor strangers nor thy countrymen know aught of love toward thee.\n    Yet, hapless man, not thine the sin; thy parents\u2019 was the sinning,\n    That chain\u00e8d not those hounds right fast to a corner of their dwelling;\n    Well is it said by men of old, well bruit they loud the saying,\n    \u201cThe fathers eat of acid things, and the bairns\u2019 teeth fall aching.\u201d\n    Have patience then, O hapless man, a year or twain of patience,\n    And there shall come a happy day when all thy woes shall vanish;\n    For all thy bitterness of soul thou shalt find consolation,\n    Thy dreams of beauty and of wealth thou shalt at last encompass[288].\u2019\n\nThe Fates, it has been already said, are three in number; why so, it\nseems impossible to determine. It may be that the functions discharged\nby them fell readily into a three-fold division; thus in the district\nof Zagorion in Epirus, one Fate \u2018spins the thread\u2019 (\u03ba\u03bb\u03ce\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b3\u03bd\u03ad\u03bc\u03b1)\nwhich determines the length of life, the second apportions good\nfortune, and the third bad[289]. Or again, the division may have been\nmade in such a way that one Fate should preside over each of the\nthree great events of human experience, birth, marriage, and death.\nThe term \u2018fate\u2019 (\u03bc\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1)[290] is often used by women as a synonym for\nmarriage (\u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2)--in curious contrast with the man\u2019s more optimistic\ndescription of his wedding as \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac, \u2018joy\u2019; and a Greek proverb, used of\na very ignorant man, \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03be\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018he does\nnot know the three evils of his Fate,\u2019 to wit birth, marriage, and\ndeath, carries the connexion of fate with these three events a little\nfurther. But such distributions of functions are probably posterior to\nthe choice of the number. Three was always a sacred number, and the\nancients delighted in trinities of goddesses[291].\n\nBut besides the three great Fates we must recognise also in modern\nGreece the existence of lesser Fates, attached each to a single human\nlife. This is a slight extension of the main belief, and consists\nreally in the personification of the objective fate which the three\ngreat Fates decree. Just as each man is believed to have his good\nguardian-angel and, by antithesis but with less biblical warranty, his\nbad angel, so too he is accompanied by his own personal Fate. But these\nlesser Fates are only faint replicas of the great trinity, and I doubt\nwhether they are believed to have any independent power of their own;\nthey would seem to be mere ministers who carry out the original decrees\nof the three supreme Fates.\n\nOften in the popular songs it is impossible to tell whether it is the\nlesser personal Fate or one of the great trio who is addressed. For in\nsuch lines as,\n\n    \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6 \u03c3\u03b5, \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ae \u03bc\u03b5 \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03b9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c8\u1fc3\u03c2,\n    \u039a\u03b9\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u03bb\u03ac\u03c7\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u1ff6, \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf \u03bc\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03ce\u03c3\u1fc3\u03c2[292],\n\n \u2018I pray thee, good Fate, send me not to a strange land, but if it be\n my lot to be sent, let me not die there,\u2019\n\nthe form of address \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 (literally \u2018my Fate\u2019) implies no personal\npossession, but is the same as that employed in praying to God or the\nVirgin, \u0398\u03b5\u03ad \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5. But in definite forms of incantation,\ncomposed for recitation along with propitiatory offerings, the great\nFates and the lesser Fate of the individual suppliant are coupled in a\nway which shows the difference in importance between them. The former\nare called \u2018the Fates over all Fates\u2019 (\u1f21 \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd), as in the\nplain prose formulary quoted above; the latter is merely the Fate of\nthis or that person.\n\nWhether these inferior Fates were known also in the classical period\nis a question which I am unable to answer; but that the belief in them\nis certainly of no recent growth is proved by an incantation more\nelaborate than those given above and on internal evidence very old:--\n\n    \u2019\u03c0\u2019 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f4c\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bd,\n    \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u1f04\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6,\n    \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f91 \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u2019\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1,\n    \u1f02\u03c2 \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f02\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bb\u03b8\u1fc3[293].\n\n \u2018From Olympus, even from the summit, from the three heights of heaven,\n where dwell the Fates of all Fates and my own Fate, may she hearken\n and come.\u2019\n\nThe version of the formula which I have given is only one out of\nseveral which have been recorded from various parts of Greece[294],\nand there can be no doubt that the original was a widely-esteemed\nincantation. I have given the most intelligible; but the mere fact\nthat some of the others, through verbal corruption in the course\nof tradition, have become almost meaningless, is strong proof of\nthe antiquity of the original. There are however two clear marks of\nantiquity in the version before us. The mention of Olympus as the abode\nof deities carries us back at once to the classical age; and the word\n\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 in the sense of \u2018summit\u2019 is no less suggestive of a very early\ndate. The ancient word \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2, used in this sense by Aeschylus[295]\nand by Herodotus[296], is obsolete now in the spoken language. But\n\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 is evidently either a dialectic form of it (with the common\ninterchange of \u03bb and \u03c1) or else a corrupt form, not understood by those\nwho continued to use it in this incantation, and assimilated, by way of\nassonance, to \u1f4c\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2. Further one of the other versions gives the word\nas \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03c5\u03b2\u03bf[297], where the original \u03c1 is retained but the \u03bc lost before\n\u03b2, which now universally has the sound of the English _v_. A comparison\nof the two forms therefore establishes beyond question the fact that\nthe somewhat rare classical word \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2, in its known meaning of\n\u2018summit,\u2019 was the original form. Hence the incantation, containing both\na mention of Olympus as the seat of deities and an old classical word\nlong since disused, cannot but date from very early times. Possibly\ntherefore the belief in subordinate Fates, attached each to one human\nbeing, was known to the common-folk of the classical age.\n\nBut, be this as it may, the popular conception of the great Trinity of\nFates has persisted unchanged for more than a score of centuries--and\nwho shall say for how many more? Here the literary tradition of\nclassical times was evidently faithful to popular traditions. The\nnumber of the Fates is still the same as in Hesiod\u2019s day[298]; they\nare still depicted as old and infirm women, as they were by the poets\nat any rate in antiquity, though in ancient art, for beauty\u2019s sake,\nthey are apt to be figured as more youthful; it is still their task\n\u2018to assign to mortal men at their birth,\u2019 as Hesiod knew, \u2018both good\nand ill[299]\u2019; the functions of Clotho who spun the thread of life, of\nLachesis who apportioned destiny, and of Atropos whom none might turn\nfrom her purpose, are still the joint functions of the great Three; the\nbook, the spindle, and an instrument for cutting the thread of life are\nstill their attributes.\n\nThere is little new therefore to be learnt from the study of the\nFates in modern folk-lore. The lesson which it teaches rather is the\ncontinuity of the present with the past. But there is one point to\nwhich special attention may perhaps be directed--the belief that the\nFates invariably visit each child that is born in order to decree\nits lot. I do not wish to engage in the controversy which has raged\nround the identification of the figures in the east pediment of the\nParthenon; but those who would recognise among them the three Fates\nmay fairly draw a fresh argument from the strength of this popular\nbelief. It is only fitting that at the birth of Athena from the head\nof Zeus the Fates should be present; for even Zeus himself, said\nAeschylus[300], might not escape their decree.\n\n\n\u00a7 9. THE NYMPHS.\n\nOf all the supernatural beings who haunt the path and the imagination\nof the modern Greek peasant by far the most common are the Nymphs\nor \u2018Nereids\u2019 (\u039d\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2). The name itself occurs in a multitude of\ndialectic varieties[301], but its meaning is everywhere uniform, and\nmore comprehensive than that of the ancient word. It is no longer\nconfined to nymphs of the sea, but embraces also their kindred of\nmountain, river, and woodland. There is no longer a Nereus, god of\nthe sea, to claim the Nereids as his daughters, denizens like himself\nof the deep; and the connexion of their name with the modern word for\n\u2018water\u2019 (\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc) is not understanded of the common-folk. Hence there has\nbeen nothing to restrain the extension of the term \u039d\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1, and it has\nentirely superseded, in this sense, the ancient \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b7, which in modern\nspeech can only mean \u2018a bride.\u2019\n\nThe familiarity of the peasants with the Nereids is more intimate than\ncan be easily imagined by those who have merely travelled, it may\nbe, through the country but have no knowledge of the people in their\nhomes. The educated classes of course, and with them some of the less\ncommunicative of the peasants, will deny all belief in such beings\nand affect to deride as old wives\u2019 fables the many stories concerning\nthem. But in truth the belief is one which even men of considerable\nculture fail sometimes to eradicate from their own breasts. A paper\non the Nereids (the nucleus of the present chapter) was read by me in\nAthens at an open meeting of the British School; and no sooner was it\nended than an Athenian gentleman whose name is well known in certain\nlearned circles throughout Europe rose hurriedly crossing himself and\ndisappeared without a word of leave-taking. As for the peasants, let\nthem deny or avow their belief, there is probably no nook or hamlet\nin all Greece where the womenfolk at least do not scrupulously take\nprecautions against the thefts and the malice of the Nereids, while\nmany a man may still be found ready to recount in all good faith\nstories of their beauty and passion and caprice. Nor is it a matter\nof faith only; more than once I have been in villages where certain\nNereids were known by sight to several persons (so at least they\naverred); and there was a wonderful agreement among the witnesses\nin the description of their appearance and dress. I myself once had\na Nereid pointed out to me by my guide, and there certainly was the\nsemblance of a female figure draped in white and tall beyond human\nstature flitting in the dusk between the gnarled and twisted boles\nof an old olive-yard. What the apparition was, I had no leisure to\ninvestigate; for my guide with many signs of the cross and muttered\ninvocations of the Virgin urged my mule to perilous haste along the\nrough mountain-path. But had I inherited, as he, a belief in Nereids\ntogether with a fertile gift of mendacity, I should doubtless have\ncorroborated the highly-coloured story which he told when we reached\nthe light and safety of the next village; and the ready acceptance of\nthe story by those who heard it proved to me that a personal encounter\nwith Nereids was really reckoned among the possible incidents of\nevery-day life.\n\nThe awe in which the Nereids are held is partially responsible, without\ndoubt, for the many adulatory by-names by which they are known. Now and\nagain indeed a peasant, when he is suffering from some imagined injury\nat their hands, may so far speak his mind concerning them as to call\nthem \u2018evil women\u2019 (\u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 or \u1f04\u03c3\u03c7\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2): but in general his\nreferences are more diplomatic and conciliatory in tone. He adopts the\nsame attitude towards them as did his forefathers towards the Furies;\nand, though the actual word \u2018Eumenides\u2019 is lost to his vocabulary,\nthe spirit of his address is unchanged. \u2018The Ladies\u2019 (\u1f91 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2),\n\u2018Our Maidens\u2019 (\u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c2), \u2018Our good Queens\u2019 (\u1f91 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2\n\u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2), \u2018The kind-hearted ones\u2019 (\u1f91 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2), \u2018The ladies\nto whom we wish joy\u2019 (\u1f91 \u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2), or most commonly of all \u2018Our\ngood Ladies\u2019 (\u1f91 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2)[302],--such is the wonted\nstyle of his adulation, in which the frequent use of the word \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2\n(the plural of \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac, i.e. \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1) is a heritage from his ancestors who\nmade dedications \u2018to the lady nymphs\u2019 (\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2). Yet it may be\nquestioned whether these by-names are wholly euphemistic; for mingled\nwith the awe which the Nereids inspire there is certainly an element of\nadmiration and, I had almost said, of affection in the feelings of the\ncommon-folk toward them.\n\nThe Nereids are conceived as women half-divine yet not immortal, always\nyoung, always beautiful, capricious at best, and at their worst\ncruel. Their presence is suspected everywhere; grim forest-depth and\nlaughing valley, babbling stream and wind-swept ridge, tree and cave\nand pool, each may be their chosen haunt, the charmed scene of their\ndance and song and godlike revelry. The old distinctions between the\nnymphs according to their habitations still to some extent hold good;\nthere are nymphs of the sea and nymphs of the streams, tree-nymphs\nand mountain-nymphs; but in characteristics these several classes\nare alike, in grace, in frolic, in wantonness. Of all that is light\nand mirthful they are the ideal; of all that is lovely the exquisite\nembodiment; and their hearts beneath are ever swayed by fierce gusts of\nlove and of hate.\n\nThe beauty of the Nereids, the sweetness of their voices, and the grace\nand litheness of their movements have given rise to many familiar\nphrases which are eloquent of feelings other than awe in the people\u2019s\nminds. \u2018She is fair as a Nereid\u2019 (\u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b5 \u1f64\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03b7 \u03c3\u1f70 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1), \u2018she has\nthe eyes, the arms, the bosom of a Nereid\u2019 (\u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1, \u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, \u03b2\u03c5\u03b6\u03b9\u1f70\n\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2), \u2018she sings, she dances, like a Nereid\u2019 (\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9, \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9,\n\u03c3\u1f70 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1),--such are the compliments time and again passed upon a\nbride, whose white dress and ornaments of gold seem to complete the\nresemblance. Possibly the twofold usage in antiquity of the word \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b7\nis responsible for a still surviving association of bridal dress with\nthe Nereids; it is at any rate to the peasants\u2019 mind an incontestable\nfact that white and gold are the colours chiefly affected by Nereids in\ntheir dress[303].\n\nOnly in one particular is the beauty of the Nereids ever thought to\nbe marred; in some localities they are said to have the feet of goats\nor of asses[304]; as for instance the three Nereids who are believed\nto dance together without pause on the heights of Ta\u00ffgetus. But this\nis a somewhat rare and local trait, and must have been transferred to\nthem, it would seem, from Pan and his attendant satyrs, with whom of\nold they were wont to consort; in general they are held to be of beauty\nunblemished.\n\nTheir accomplishments include, besides singing and dancing, the humbler\narts of the good housewife. \u2018She cooks like a Nereid\u2019 (\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03c3\u1f70 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1) and \u2018she does house-cleaning like a Nereid\u2019 (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03c3\u1f70\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1) are phrases of commendation[305] occasionally heard.\nBut chiefly do they excel in the art of spinning[306]; and so well\nknown is their dexterity therein that a delicate kind of creeper with\nwhich trees are often festooned is known in the vulgar tongue under\nthe pretty name of \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u03b3\u03bd\u03ad\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, \u2018Nereid-spinnings.\u2019 The attribute\nindeed is natural and obvious; for the popular conception of the\nnymphs is but an idealisation of the peasant-women, to whom, whether\nsitting in the sunlight at their cottage-door or tending their sheep\nand goats afield, the distaff is an ever constant companion. But, easy\nthough it is to account for the trait, some interest, if no great\nmeasure of importance, attaches to its consonance with the ancient\ncharacterisation of Nymphs. To the Nereids proper[307] a golden spindle\nwas specially assigned; and in the cave of the Naiads in Ithaca might\nbe seen, in Odysseus\u2019 day, the kindred occupation of weaving, for\n\u2018therein were great looms of stone whereon the nymphs wove sea-purple\nrobes, a wonder to behold[308].\u2019\n\nAs might be expected of beings so divinely feminine, their relations\nwith men and with women are very different; in the one case there\nis the possibility of love; in the other the certainty of spite. It\nis necessary therefore to examine their attitude towards either sex\nseparately.\n\nThe marriage of men with Nereids not only forms the theme of many\nfolk-stories current in Greece, but in the more remote districts is\nstill regarded as a credible occurrence. Even at the present day the\ntraveller may hear of families in whose ancestry of more or less remote\ndate is numbered a Nereid. A Thessalian peasant whom I once met claimed\na Nereid-grandmother, and little as his looks warranted the assumption\nof any grace or beauty in so near an ancestor--he happened to have a\nsquint--his claim appeared to be admitted by his fellow-villagers, and\na certain prestige attached to him. Hence the epithet \u2018Nereid-born\u2019\n(\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) frequently heard in amatory\ndistichs[309] may formerly have been not merely an exaggerated\ncompliment to the lady\u2019s beauty, but a recognition of high birth\ncalculated to conciliate the future mother-in-law.\n\nNor is it men only whose susceptibilities are stirred by the beauty of\nthe Nereids; even animals may fall under their spell. A shepherd of\nScopelos told me that in the neighbouring island of Ioura, which he\nfrequented with his flocks for pasturage, he once tamed a wild goat,\nwhich after a time began to behave very oddly. All night long it would\nremain with the rest of his flock, but in the daytime it persistently\nstrayed away from the pasture to the neighbourhood of a Nereid-haunted\ncave on the bare and rocky hillside, and from want of food became very\nthin. The goat, he believed, was enamoured of a Nereid and pining away\nfrom unrequited love.\n\nBut it is from the old folk-stories rather than from the records of\ncontemporary or recent experience that the character of the Nereids\nas lovers or wives is best learnt. And herein they are not models of\nwomanhood; passion indeed they feel and inspire; they suffer, they\neven seek the caresses of the young and brave; but true wives they\nwill not long remain. Constancy and care are not for them; the longing\nfor freedom and the breezes of heaven, the memory of rapid tuneful\ndance, are hot within them; they leave the men whose strength and\nvalour snared their hearts, they forsake their homes and children,\nand on the wings of the wind are gone, seeking again their etherial\nunwearied fellows. Yet they do not altogether forget their children;\nfor motherhood is presently more to them than mirth; ever and anon\nthey steal back to visit their homes and bless their children with the\ngifts of beauty and wealth which their touch can bestow, and even stay\nto mend their husbands\u2019 clothes and clean the house, vanishing again\nhowever before the man\u2019s return. Only in one case have I heard of a\nnymph\u2019s continued intimacy with a man throughout his life, and that\nstrangely enough not in a folk-story but in recent experience. Their\nrelations, it must be acknowledged, were illicit, for he had a human\nwife and family; but it was commonly reported that his rise from penury\nto affluence and the mayoralty of his native village was the work of a\nNereid in a cave near by, who of her love for him enriched the produce\nof his land and shielded his flocks from pestilence.\n\nIn the popular stories which deal with the marriages of Nereids, the\nbridal fashion of their dress, which has already been noticed, is often\nan essential feature of the plot. In one tale it is said explicitly\nthat the supernatural quality of the Nereids lies not in their persons\nbut in their raiment[310]; and for this reason a prince, smitten with\nlove of the youngest of three sister Nereids but knowing not how to win\nher, is counselled by a wise woman, to whom he confides his perplexity,\nto lie in wait when they go to bathe in their accustomed pool and to\nsteal the clothes of his _inamorata_, who would then follow him to\nrecover her loss and so be in his power to take to wife. But there is\ngreater delicacy and, as we shall see, more certain antiquity also\nin the commoner version of the episode, in which a kerchief alone is\npossessed of the magic powers ascribed above to the whole dress. And in\nthis detail of costume the resemblance of bride and Nereid still holds\ngood; for no wedding-dress would be complete without a kerchief either\nwrapped about the bride\u2019s head or pinned upon her breast or carried in\nher hand to form a link with her neighbour in the chain of dancers[311].\n\nOf the stories which have for their _motif_ the theft of such a\nkerchief from a Nereid[312] the following Messenian tale is a good\nexample.\n\n\u2018Once upon a time there was a young shepherd who played the pipes\nso beautifully that the Nereids one night carried him off to the\nthreshing-floor where they danced and bade him play to them. At first\nhe was much afraid and thought that some evil would overtake him from\nbeing in their company and speaking with them. But gradually, as he\ngrew accustomed to his strange surroundings and the Nereids showed\nthemselves kind to him and grateful for his piping, he took courage\nagain and night after night made his way to the spot which they haunted\nand made music till cock-crow.\n\nNow it so happened that one of the Nereids was beautiful beyond the\nrest, and the shepherd loved her and determined to make her his wife.\nBut inasmuch as the Nereids danced all night long without pause while\nhe piped, and at dawn vanished to be seen no more until the next\nnight\u2019s dance began, he knew not what to do.\n\nSo at last he went to an old woman and told her his trouble, and she\nsaid to him, \u201cGo again to-night and play till dawn is near; then before\nthe cock crows[313], make a dash and seize the kerchief in the Nereid\u2019s\nhand, and hold it fast. And though she change into terrible shapes, be\nnot afraid; only hold fast until she take again her proper form; then\nmust she do as thou wilt.\u201d\n\nThe young man therefore went again that night and played till close on\ndawn. Then as the Nereid passed close beside him, leading the dance,\nhe sprang upon her and grasped the kerchief. And straightway the cock\ncrew, and the other Nereids fled; but she whose kerchief he had seized\ncould not go, but at once began to transform herself into horrible\nshapes in hope to frighten the shepherd and make him loose his hold.\nFirst she became a lion, but he remembered the witch\u2019s warning and\nheld fast for all the lion\u2019s roaring. And then the Nereid turned into\na snake, and then into fire[314], but he kept a stout heart and would\nnot let go the kerchief. Then at last she returned to her proper form\nand went home with him and was his wife and bore him a son; but the\nkerchief he kept hidden from her, lest she should become a Nereid\nagain.\u2019\n\nIn this story there are two ancient traits especially noteworthy. The\npower of transformation into horrible shapes is precisely the means of\ndefence which the Nereid Thetis once sought to employ against Peleus;\nthe forms of wild beast and of fire, which she assumed according to\nancient myth, are the same as Nereids now adopt; and the instructions\nnow given to hold fast until the Nereid resume her proper shape are\nthe same as Chiron, the wise Centaur, gave once to Peleus[315]. It is\ntrue that in the ancient story it is the person of Thetis that Peleus\nwas bidden to grasp, while in the modern tale the shepherd\u2019s immediate\nobject is to retain hold of the kerchief only. But this feature of\nthe story too is an interesting witness to antiquity, although in\nThetis\u2019 history it does not appear. Ancient art has left to us several\nrepresentations[316] of nymphs with veil-like scarves worn on the\nhead or borne in the hand and floating down the breeze; and the magic\nproperties inherent in them are exemplified by Ino\u2019s gift, or rather\nloan, to Odysseus. The scarf imperishable (\u03ba\u03c1\u03ae\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bc\u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd) which\nshe bade him gird about his breast and have no fear of any suffering\nnor of death, was not his own to keep after he reached the mainland;\nin accordance with her behest \u2018he loosed then the goddess\u2019 scarf from\nabout him, and let it fall into the river\u2019s salt tide, and a great\nwave bore it back down the stream, and readily did Ino catch it in her\nhands\u2019[317]. Here Ino\u2019s anxiety and strait command as to the return of\nher veil are most easily understood by the aid of the modern belief\nwhich makes the possession of the scarf or kerchief the sole, or at\nleast the chief, means of godlike power. In Cythnos at the present day\nit is the \u03bc\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1, or scarf worn about the head, which alone is believed\nto invest Nereids with their distinctive qualities[318]; and if the\nmodern scarf is a lineal descendant of the Homeric type such as Ino\nwore--for even in feminine dress fashions are slow to change in the\nGreek islands[319]--the epithet \u2018imperishable\u2019 may have unsuspected\nforce, as implying that the scarf confers a semblance of divinity on\nits owner and not _vice versa_.\n\nIn such of the stories of the above type as do not end with the\nmarriage of the Nereid[320] the sequel is not encouraging to\nother adventurers. For though she be a good wife in commonplace\nestimation--and the Greek view of matrimony is in general commonplace\nto the verge of sordidness--though her skill in domestic duties be as\nproverbial as her beauty, she either turns her charms and her cunning\nto such account as to discover the hiding-place of her stolen kerchief,\nor, failing this, so mopes and pines over her work that her husband\nworn down by her sullenness and persistent silence decides to risk\nall if he can but restore her lightheartedness. Then though he have\ntaken an oath of her that she will not avail herself of her recovered\nfreedom, but will abide with him as his wife, her promise is light as\nthe breeze that bears her away with fluttering kerchief, and he is\nalone.\n\nBut fickleness is not the worst of the Nereids\u2019 qualities in their\ndealings with men. In malice they are as wanton as in love. Woe\nbetide him who trespasses upon their midday carnival or crosses their\nnightly path; dumbness, blindness, epilepsy, and horrors of mutilation\nhave been the penalties of such intrusion, though the man offend\nunwittingly; for the Nereids are tiger-like in all, in stealth and\ncruelty as in grace and beauty; and none who look upon their radiance\ncan guess the darkness of their hearts. Terrible was the experience of\na Melian peasant, who coming unawares upon the Nereids one night was\nbidden by them to a cave hard by, where they feasted him and made merry\ntogether and did not deny him their utmost favours; but when morning\nbroke, they sent him to his home shattered and impotent.\n\nIf such be sometimes the results of their seeming goodwill and\nproffered companionship, how much more fearful a thing must be their\nenmity! Let a man but intrude upon their revels in some sequestered\nglen, or sleep beneath the tree that shelters them, or play the pipe\nbeside the river where they bathe, and in such wrath they will gather\nabout him[321], that the eyes which have looked upon them see no more,\nand the voice that cries out is thenceforth dumb, and madness springs\nof their very presence.\n\nBut if the Nereids are fickle and treacherous in their dealings with\nmen, towards women they are consistently malicious. Especially on two\noccasions must every prudent peasant-woman be on her guard against\ntheir envy--at marriage and in child-birth. For though the Nereids\nthemselves prove no true wives, so jealous are they of the joys of\nwedlock, that if a bride be not well secured from their molestation,\nthey will mar the fruition of her love, or else, where they cannot\nprevent, they will endeavour at the least to cut short the happiness\nof motherhood, slaying with fever the woman whose bliss has stirred\ntheir malevolence, yet sparing always the child and even blessing it\nwith beauty and wealth.\n\nThe means by which women most commonly protect themselves on these\noccasions are the wearing of amulets; the fastening of a bunch of\ngarlic over the house-door; the painting of a cross in black upon\nthe lintel (this custom may be a Christianised form of the ancient\npractice, mentioned by Photius[322], of smearing houses with pitch\nat the birth of children as a means of driving away powers of evil);\nand, if any strange visitants are heard about the house at night, the\nmaintenance of strict silence. But steps are also sometimes taken to\nappease the Nereids; offerings of food, in which honey is the essential\ningredient, are set out for them, and formerly in Athens[323] to this a\nbride used to add two chemises out of her trousseau.\n\nSuch precautions after a confinement are regularly continued for forty\ndays. It would appear that in ancient times this was the period during\nwhich women were held to be specially exposed to the evil eye and all\nother ghostly and sinister influences[324], including probably, as now,\nthe assaults of nymphs; and in modern usage the duration of the time\nof peril is so well established that the word \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b6\u03c9, literally to\n\u2018accomplish forty (\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1) days,\u2019 is used technically of the churching\nof women at the end of that period; while a more frankly pagan survival\nis to be found in the fact that for forty days no right-minded mother\nwill cross the threshold of her own house to go out, nor enter a\nneighbour\u2019s house, without stepping on the door-key, that being the\nmost easily available piece of iron, a metal, which in the folk-lore of\nancient Greece[325], as in that of many other countries, was a charm\nand safeguard against the supernatural.\n\nIt is not however the mothers only, who need protection from the\nNereids, but the children also, and that too throughout their\nchildhood; yet not against the same perils; for the mother is liable\nto malicious injuries; the child is safe indeed from wilful hurt, but\nit may be stolen by Nereids. We have already seen how Nereids who\nhave wed with mortal men, though faithless to their husbands, are yet\ndrawn home now and again by love of their children. And such of them\ntoo as have never yielded to human embrace are yet instinct with a\nstrange yearning to possess a mortal woman\u2019s prettiest little ones; on\none child they exert a fascination which unhappily proves fatal to it;\nanother they seize with open violence; or again they set stealthily\nin some cradle a babe of pure Nereid birth--a changeling that by some\nweird fatality is weakly and doomed to die--and carry off to the woods\nand hills the human infant, in whom they delight, to be their playmate\nand their fosterling. In a history of the island of Pholegandros, the\nwriter, a native of the place, accounts for the multitude of small\nchapels in the island on the ground of the peasants\u2019 anxiety each to\nhave a saint close to his property to defend him from such raids by\nNereids and other kindred beings[326].\n\nThe wife of a priest at Chalandri in Attica related to Ross[327] a\nstory in point. \u2018I had a daughter,\u2019 she said, \u2018a little girl between\ntwelve and thirteen years old, who showed a very strange disposition.\nThough we all treated her kindly, her mood was always melancholy,\nand whenever she got the chance she ran off from the village up the\nwooded spurs of the mountain (Brilessos). There she would roam about\nalone all day long, from early morning till late evening; often she\nwould take off some of her clothes and wear but one light garment,\nso as to be less hindered in running and jumping. We dared not stop\nher, for we saw quite well that the Nereids had allured her, but we\nwere much distressed. It was in vain that my husband took her time\nafter time to the church and read prayers over her. The Panagia (the\nVirgin) was powerless to help. After the child had been thus afflicted\na considerable while, she fell into yet deeper despondency, and at last\ndied--a short time ago. When we buried her, the neighbours said, \u201cDo\nnot wonder at her death; the Nereids wanted her; it is but two days\nsince we saw her dancing with them.\u201d\u2019\n\nSuch was the view taken by a Greek priest and his wife concerning the\ncause of their daughter\u2019s death about two generations ago; and at\nthe present day the traveller may hear of similar events in recent\nexperience. An important point to notice is that the child\u2019s death\nwas thought to be due, not to any malevolence on the part of the\nNereids, but to their desire to have her for their own, a desire more\nhappily gratified in cases of which I have several times heard where\nthe child has not died but has simply disappeared. Thus in Arcadia I\nwas once assured that a small girl had been carried off by Nereids in\na whirlwind, and had been found again some weeks after on a lonely\nmountain side some five or six hours distant from her home in a\ncondition which showed that she had been well fed and well cared for in\nthe interval.\n\nBut certainly the snatching away of children by the Nereids, whether\nthis mean death or only disappearance, is still a well-accredited fact\nin the minds of many of the common-folk. They still remain too simple\nand too closely wedded to the beliefs of their forefathers to need the\nold exhortation[328],\n\n    \u2018Trust ye the fables of yore: \u2019tis not Death, but the Nymphs of the river\n      Seeing your daughter so sweet stole her to be their delight.\u2019\n\nThey believe still that the Nereids have befriended their children,\neven while they weep for their own loss.\n\nWhatever mischief the Nereids work upon man, woman, or child, be it\ndeath or loss of faculties or merely deportation from home to some\nhaunted spot, \u2018seized\u2019 (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03c0\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) is the word applied to\nthe victim. The compound \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u1fb3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2[329], \u2018Nereid-seized,\u2019 also\noccurs, exactly parallel in form as well as equivalent in meaning to\nthe ancient \u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03cc\u03bb\u03b7\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 as used by Plato. \u2018Now listen to me,\u2019 says\nSocrates to Phaedrus[330], \u2018in silence; for in very truth this seems to\nbe holy ground, so that if anon, in the course of what I say, I suffer\na \u201cseizure\u201d (\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03cc\u03bb\u03b7\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9), you must not be surprised.\u2019 Such\nspeech, save for its disregard of the acknowledged peril, might be held\nin all seriousness by a peasant of to-day. In Socrates\u2019 mouth it is\nintended merely as a happy metaphor; but its point and appropriateness\nare lost on those who do not both know the superstition to which he\nalludes and at the same time recall the _mise-en-sc\u00e8ne_[331] of the\ndialogue. The two friends have crossed the Ilissus and are stretched\non a grassy slope in the shade of a lofty plane-tree, beneath which is\na spring of cool water pleasant to their feet as is the light breeze to\ntheir faces in the heat of the summer noon. The spot must surely be a\nfavourite haunt of the rural gods, and indeed the statues close at hand\nattest its dedication to Pan and to the Nymphs. In such a situation\nthere would be, according to modern notions, three distinct grounds\nfor apprehending a \u2018seizure.\u2019 The neighbourhood of water is throughout\nGreece dreaded as the most dangerous haunt of Nereids[332], so that few\npeasants will cross a stream or even a dry torrent-bed without making\nthe sign of the cross. Hardly less risky is it to rest in the shade of\nany old or otherwise conspicuous tree. If in addition to this the time\nof day be noon, it is not merely venturesome to trespass on such spots,\nbut inexcusably foolhardy; for the hour of midday slumber is fraught\nwith as many terrors as the night[333]. Any or all of these popular\nbeliefs may have been present to Plato\u2019s mind as he wrote this passage;\nfor the ancients numbered among those Nymphs, by whom Socrates was\nlikely to be \u2018seized,\u2019 both Naiads and Dryads, who might be expected\nto resent and to punish any intrusion upon their haunts in stream or\ntree; while, as regards the hour of noon, the fear felt in old time\nof arousing Pan[334] from his siesta may well have extended also to\nNymphs, who on this spot beside the Ilissus, as commonly elsewhere,\nwere named his comrades.\n\nThe same kind of \u2018seizure\u2019 was denoted formerly by the phrase \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\n\u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9[335], \u2018he has it (i.e. a stroke or seizure) from without,\u2019\nand the modern compound \u2019\u03be\u03c9\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2[336] bears obviously a kindred\nmeaning. The exact significance of \u1f14\u03be\u03c9 in this relation is difficult\nto determine. Either it is only another example of the usage already\nnoted in discussing the term \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac and implies the activity of one\nof those supernatural beings who exist side by side with the powers\nof Christianity and are by their very name proved to be pagan; or\nelse it indicates a difference in the mode of injury by two classes of\nsupernatural foes, the difference between \u2018seizure\u2019 and \u2018possession.\u2019\nCertainly no story is known to me of \u2018possession\u2019 by Nereids in the\nsame sense as by devils. The latter take up their abode within a man\nand are subject to exorcism; the seizure by Nereids is conceived rather\nas an external act of violence. This is made clear by several terms\nlocally used of seizure. \u2018He has been struck\u2019 (\u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 or \u03c7\u03c4\u03c5\u03c0\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5),\n\u2018he has been wounded\u2019 (\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03ce\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5), \u2018he has had hands laid upon him\u2019\n(\u1f10\u03b3\u03b3\u03af\u03c7\u03c4\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5) are typical expressions, to which is sometimes added \u2018by\nNereids\u2019 or \u2018by evil women[337].\u2019 Such phrases clearly convict the\nNereids of assault and battery rather than of undue mental influence\nupon their victims.\n\nMoreover the Nereids, and with them all the surviving pagan deities,\nare pictured by the peasant in corporeal form, whereas the angels--and\nthere are bad angels, who \u2018possess\u2019 men, as well as good--are in common\nspeech as well as in the formal dedications of churches known as \u03bf\u1f31\n\u1f00\u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, \u2018the Bodiless ones.\u2019 There is then an essential difference\nin the nature of these two classes of beings, which justifies the\nsupposed distinction in their methods of working. For \u2018possession\u2019\nproper is the injury inflicted, or rather infused, by spirits pure and\nsimple; external \u2018seizure\u2019 is the work of corporeal beings. And this\ndistinction was recognised in comparatively early times; for John of\nDamascus[338] in speaking of \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03b9, a peculiarly maleficent kind of\nwitch (of whom more anon), notes as singular the fact that sometimes\nthey appear clothed in bodily form and sometimes as mere spirits (\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70\n\u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f22 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bc\u03bd\u1fc7 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1fc7). It is then to the second interpretation of\nthe phrase \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9, as implying external and bodily violence, that\nthe balance of argument, I think, inclines.\n\nThe precautions which may be taken against injury by Nereids have\nalready been briefly noticed. Amulets, garlic, the sign of the\ncross, the invocation of saints--all these are common and suitable\nprophylactics. But above all, in the actual moment when imminent danger\nis suspected, the lips, as Phaedrus was reminded by Socrates, and also\nthe eyes should be close shut; for in general the principle obtains\nthat the particular organ by which there is converse or contact with\nthe Nereids is most likely to be impaired or destroyed. Apart from\nthis, there is no precaution more specially adapted for self-defence\nagainst the Nereids than against the evil eye or any other baneful\ninfluence; and with these I have already dealt[339].\n\nBut when these precautions are neglected or fail, the mischief wrought\nby the Nereids is not necessarily permanent; there are several cures\nwhich may be tried. Sometimes prayers (but not, so far as I know,\na formal exorcism such as the Greek Church provides for diabolic\npossession) are recited by a priest over the sufferer in the church of\nsome suitable saint; or a trial may be made of sleeping in a church\nwhich possesses a wonder-working _icon_. Sometimes an offering of\nhoney-cakes sent or carried to the spot where the misfortune occurred\nsuffices to turn the Nereids from their wrath and wins them to undo the\nhurt that they have done; on such an errand however the bearer of the\noffering must beware of looking back to the place where he has once\ndeposited it, lest a worse fate overtake him than that which he is\ntrying to dispel[340]. Theodore Bent[341] gives full details of such\nan offering made in the island of Ceos. \u2018For those,\u2019 he writes, \u2018who\nare supposed to have been struck by the Nereids when sleeping under a\ntree, the following cure is much in vogue. A white cloth is spread on\nthe spot, and on it is put a plate with bread, honey, and other sweets,\na bottle of good wine, a knife, a fork, an empty glass, an unburnt\ncandle, and a censer. These things must be brought by an old woman\nwho utters mystic words and then goes away, that the Nereids may eat\nundisturbed, and that in their good humour they may allow the sufferer\nto regain his health.\u2019 How mystic may be the words of a Cean witch, I\ncannot say; but the formula to be used by mothers in Chios in the event\nof a similar misfortune to a child is extremely simple: \u2018Good day to\nyou, good queens, eat ye the little cakes and heal my child\u2019--\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\n\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c6\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u2019\u03b3\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03af \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5[342]. But the most frequent and most efficacious method of\ncure (with which the offering of honeycakes may be combined) is for\nthe sufferer to revisit the scene of his calamity at the same hour of\nthe same day in week, month, or year, when by some capricious reversal\nof fate the presence of the Nereids is apt to remove the hurt which it\nformerly inflicted.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThus far I have dealt with the main characteristics of nymphs in\ngeneral: it remains to consider the several classes into which\nthey were anciently divided; and though for the most part the old\nappellations, Nereids, Naiads, Oreads, and Dryads, have either\ndisappeared or else changed their form or meaning, we shall find that\nthe old division of them into these four main classes according to\ntheir habitation still to some extent survives.\n\nThe Nereids, whose name is now extended to comprise all kinds of\nnymphs, are in the ancient and proper sense of the term among the\nrarest of whom the peasant speaks. But here and there mention is made\nof genuine sea-nymphs, and also of their queen, the Lamia of the\nSea[343], who has superseded Amphitrite. In 1826 a villager of Argolis\ndescribed to Soutzos, the historian of the Greek revolution[344], a\ntrue Nereid. Her hair was green and adorned with pearls and corals;\noften by moonlight she might be seen dancing merrily on the surface of\nthe sea, and in the daytime she would come to dry her clothes upon the\nrocks near the mills of Lerna. These, I may add from my own knowledge,\nare reputed to be haunted by Nereids down to this day. Happily a\npeasant of that period cannot be suspected of any education; he was not\nrecalling a piece of repetition mastered at school when he spoke of\n\n    viridis Nereidum comas[345],\n\nbut knew by tradition from his ancestors what Horace learnt of them by\nstudy.\n\nIn the Greek town of Sinasos also, in Cappadocia, a class of sea-nymphs\nis popularly recognised and distinguished under the name \u0396\u03b1\u03b2\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, a\nword said by the recorder of it to be derived from a Cappadocian word\n_zab_ meaning the \u2018sea[346].\u2019 But of the districts known to me the\nmost fertile in stories of sea-nymphs is the province of Maina, the\nmiddle of the three peninsulas south of the Peloponnese. One such story\nattaches to a fine palm-tree growing on the beach at Lim\u00e9ni, a small\nport on the west coast of the peninsula. A full version of it has been\npublished[347], but as it is long and not peculiarly instructive, I\ncontent myself with an abridgement of it.\n\nA fisherman of Lim\u00e9ni was sleeping one summer night in his boat; at\nmidnight he suddenly awoke to find Nereids rowing him out to sea, but\nhappily, remembering at once that Nereids drown any one whom they catch\nlooking at them, he lay quiet as if asleep. The boat travelled like\nlightning, and soon they reached Arabia; and having shipped a cargo\nof dates, the Nereids started home again. As they were returning, one\nNereid proposed to drown the man; but the others replied that he had\nnot opened his eyes to see them, and that they owed him a debt besides\nfor the use of his boat. Finally they arrived at some unknown place and\nunloaded the dates; and then in a flash the fisherman found himself\nback at the shore by the monastery of Lim\u00e9ni, and \u2018the she-devils,\nthe Nereids,\u2019 gone. As he baled out his boat, he found one date; but\nsuspecting that it had been left intentionally by the Nereids to cause\nhim trouble, he threw it, not into the sea, for fear his fishing should\nsuffer, but ashore. And since the date had been handled by supernatural\nbeings (\u2019\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac), it could not perish, but took root where it fell; and\nhence the palm-tree on the shore to this day.\n\nThese same sea-nymphs--\u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2--play also a part in the\ndaily life of the people of this district[348]. It is said that every\nSaturday night these Nereids join battle with the Nereids of the\nmountains, and according as these or those win, their _prot\u00e9g\u00e9s_,\nthe upland or the maritime population, are found on Sunday morning\nin higher or lower spirits, booty-laden or despoiled. It is indeed\nan imaginative folk which can thus make its deities responsible for\ndrunken brawls and sober thefts; but some of them have humour enough to\nsmile at their own imaginings.\n\nA class of maleficent beings known to the inhabitants of Tenos,\nMyconos, Amorgos, and other islands of the same group under the name\nof \u1f00\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[349], have been reckoned as sea-nymphs\nby several writers, who would derive the name from \u2019\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 (i.e.\n\u03b1\u1f30\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2), the \u2018sea-shore[350].\u2019 But there is no evidence advanced to\nshow that the common-folk regard them as a species of Nereid; and there\nis, on the contrary, evidence of their identity with certain female\ndemons whose name more commonly appears in the form \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[351], and\nwith whom I shall deal later.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Oreads are no longer known under their old name, but their\nexistence is still recognised throughout the mainland of Greece. Their\nchange of name is the result merely of a change in the ordinary word\nfor \u2018mountain.\u2019 Anciently \u1f44\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 was usual, \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2 rare; now the peasant\nuses commonly \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03cc, and \u1f44\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 although understood everywhere and\noccurring in popular poetry comes less readily to his lips. Hence the\nOreads are now called \u1f91 \u0392\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[352] (sc. \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2) or \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6[353] (\u2018the mountain-nymphs\u2019 or \u2018the maidens of the mount\u2019).\nThese mountain-nymphs delight in dance and merriment even more than\ntheir kin of the rivers and of the sea. In Maina indeed they seem to\nhave become infected with the pugnacious character of the people, for\nas we have seen they there do battle with the sea-nymphs each Saturday\nnight. But in general frolic is more to their taste than fighting. On\nthe heights of Ta\u00ffgetus are three Oreads, well known to the dwellers\nin the plain of Sparta, who dance together without pause. On the\nsummit of Hymettus too there is a flat space, called in the modern\nAttic dialect a \u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 and in shape \u2018round like a threshing-floor,\u2019\nwhere Nereids of the mountain dance at midday[354]. Above all in the\nuplands of Acarnania and Aetolia many are the hollows or tree-encircled\nlevel spaces which the shepherds will point out as \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03ac\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03b1,\n\u2018threshing-floors\u2019 where the nymphs make merry; for a threshing-floor,\nit must be remembered, is the usual resort for dancing, wrestling, and\nall those amusements for which a level space is required.\n\nNymphs of the same kind are known also in Crete. A curious story of\na wedding procession in which they took part was there narrated\nto Pashley[355], and his informant\u2019s words are recorded by him in\nthe original dialect. \u2018Once upon a time a man told me that two men\nhad once gone up to the highest mountain-ridges, where wild goats\nlive, and sat by moonlight in a grassy hollow[356] (\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9), in the\nhopes of shooting the goats. And there they heard a great noise, and\nsupposed that there were men come to get loads of snow to carry to\nCanea. But when they drew nearer, they heard violins and cithers and\nall kinds of music, and such music they had never heard. So they knew\nat once that these were no men but an assemblage of divine beings\n(\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ad\u03b4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd). And they watched them and saw them pass at a\nshort distance from where they were sitting, clothed in all manner of\nraiment, and mounted some on grey horses and some on horses of other\ncolours, and they could make out that there were men and women, afoot\nor riding, a very host. And the men were white as doves, and the\nwomen very beautiful like the rays of the sun. They saw too that they\nwere carrying something in the way that a dead body is carried out.\nForthwith the mountaineers determined to have a shot at them as they\npassed before them. They had heard also a song of which the words were\n\n    \u201cGo we to fetch a bride, a lady bride,\n    From the steep rock, a bride that is alone.\u201d\n\nAnd they made up their minds and fired a shot at them. Thereupon those\nthat were in front cried out with one voice, \u201cWhat is it?\u201d and those\nbehind answered, \u201cOur bridegroom is slain, our bridegroom is slain.\u201d\nAnd they wept and cried aloud and fled.\u2019\n\nIn regard to this story it may be noted that a male form of Nereid\n(\u039d\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u0390\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2) is sometimes mentioned, and here such are undoubtedly\nimplied. The necessity of finding husbands for the Nereids naturally\npresents itself to the minds of the old women who are the chief\nstory-tellers, and the demand is met by an assorted supply of young\nmen, male Nereids, and devils. As consorts of the last-mentioned, the\nNereids enjoy in many places the title of \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u2018she-devils\u2019;\nand it was on the ground of such unions that a peasant-woman of\nAcarnania once explained to me the belief, held in her own village,\nthat Nereids were seen only at midday. How should the devils their\nhusbands let such beautiful women be abroad at night?\n\nIt is on the mountain-nymphs also that the peasants most frequently\nlay the responsibility for whirlwinds[357], by which children or\neven adults are said to be caught up and carried from one place to\nanother[358], or to their death. Some such fate, we must suppose, in\nancient times also was held to have befallen a seven-year-old boy on\nwhose tomb was written, \u2018Tearful Hades with the help of Oreads made\naway with me, and this mournful tomb that has been builded nigh unto\nthe Nymphs contains me[359].\u2019 The habit of travelling on a whirlwind,\nor more correctly perhaps of stirring up a whirlwind by rapid passage,\nhas gained for the nymphs in some districts secondary names--in\nMacedonia \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03c2, in Gortynia \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b3\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[360]--which might almost\nseem to constitute a new class of wind-nymphs. But so far as I know\nthe faculty of raising whirlwinds, though most frequently exercised by\nOreads, is common to all nymphs.\n\nIn Athens whirlwinds are said to occur most frequently near the old\nHill of the Nymphs[361]: and women of the lower classes, as they see\nthe spinning spiral of dust approach, fall to crossing themselves\nbusily and to repeating \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f74 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c2[362] (or \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\n\u03b4\u03c1\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf \u03c3\u03b1\u03c2), \u2018Honey and milk in your path!\u2019 This incantation is widely\nknown as an effective safeguard against the Nereids in their rapid\nflight, and must in origin, it would seem, have been a vow. This\nsupposition is confirmed by the fact that in Corfu[363] a few decades\nago the peasantry used to make actual offerings of both milk and honey\nto the Nereids, and that Theocritus also associates these two gifts in\nvows made to the nymphs and to Pan. \u2018I will set,\u2019 sings Lacon, \u2018a great\nbowl of white milk for the nymphs, and another will I set full of sweet\noil\u2019; to which Comatas in rivalry rejoins, \u2018Eight pails of milk will\nI set for Pan, and eight dishes of honey in the honeycomb[364].\u2019 The\ngift of honey is of special significance. In every recorded case which\nI know of offerings to Nereids in modern Greece honey is expressly\nmentioned, and seems indeed to be essential; and it is probably from\ntheir known preference for this food that at Kastoria in Macedonia\nthey have even received the by-name, \u1f91 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u2018the honeyed\nones[365].\u2019 And if we look back over many centuries we may find a hint\nof the same belief in Homer\u2019s description of the cave of the Naiads\nin Ithaca, wherein \u2018are bowls for mixing and pitchers of stone, and\nthere besides do bees make store[366].\u2019 For it is well established\nthat honey was the special offering made to the indigenous deities of\nGreece before the making of wine such as Homer\u2019s heroes quaff had yet\nbeen discovered[367]. Perchance then even in distant pre-Homeric days\nmen vowed, as now they vow, honey and milk to the nymphs whose swift\npassing was the whirlwind, and felt secure.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe memory of the tree-nymphs is still green throughout Greece. From\nAegina their ancient name \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 is recorded as still in use[368];\nand in parts of Epirus, Thessaly, Macedonia, and Thrace, as well as in\nseveral islands of the Aegean Sea, Chios, Cimolos, Cythnos, and others,\nthere is a word employed which is, I believe, formed from the same root\nand once denoted the same class of beings. This word is found in the\nforms \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[369], \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[370], \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[371], \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[372] and,\nin Chios, in a neuter form \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1[373].\n\nIt has been suggested indeed by one writer[374] that this word has\nnothing to do with Dryads, but that its root is \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc- (better perhaps\nwritten \u03b4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc- as in the ancient \u03b4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cd\u03c2, since, so far as the sound of\nthe vowel in modern Greek is concerned, the philologist may write \u03b7,\n\u03b9, \u03c5, \u03b5\u03b9, \u03bf\u03b9, or \u03c5\u03b9, as seemeth him best), in the sense of \u2018fierce,\u2019\n\u2018bitter\u2019; and support for this derivation is sought in a somewhat vague\nstatement of Hesychius who explains the word \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 by the phrase\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2, \u2018the evil-doers in the country\u2019: but\nwhether he took \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 to be the proper name of some class of demons,\nor an adjective synonymous with \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2, does not appear.\n\nBut even on the grounds of form alone (which grounds will be\nconsiderably strengthened when we come to consider signification),\nit appears better to derive this group of words from \u03b4\u03c1\u1fe6\u03c2 or more\nimmediately from \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, \u2018a coppice\u2019; for in ancient literature mention\nis made of \u2018Artemis of the coppice\u2019 and \u2018nymphs of the coppice\u2019\n(\u1f0c\u03c1\u03c4\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1[375] and \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b1\u03b9)[376], of a particular nymph\nnamed Drymo[377], of a \u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2[378] worshipped in Pamphylia, and\nof Apollo invoked at Miletus under the title \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c2[379]. In the last\ntwo instances the title may be supposed to have had reference merely to\nthe surroundings of a particular sanctuary; but in relation to Artemis\nand the nymphs the epithet clearly suggests their woodland haunts.\n\nIn present-day usage the words which we are considering almost\nuniversally denote, not nymphs or any other supernatural beings,\nbut the first few days of August, which are observed in a special\nway. The number of these days varies from three in Sinasos[380], in\nCarpathos[381], and in Syme (an island north of Rhodes), to five in\nCythnos[382] and Cyprus[383], and six in most other places where\nthey are specially observed. There are two rules laid down for this\nobservance, though in some places only one of the two is in force: no\ntree may be peeled or cut (this is the usual practice for obtaining\nmastic and resin); and the use of water for washing either the person\nor clothes is prohibited; neither is it permitted to travel by water\nduring this period. In the interests of personal cleanliness it is\nunfortunate that the month of August should have been selected for this\nabstention; by that time even the Greeks find the sea tepid enough\nto admit of bathing without serious risk of chill, and it is a pity\ntherefore that a penalty should be inflicted upon bathers during the\nfirst week of the only month in which ablutions extend beyond the\npouring of a small jug of water over the fingers. Howbeit the decrees\nstand, and as surely as there is transgression thereof, skin will\nblister and peel off, clothes will rot[384], and trees will wither. The\nseverity of these pains has in Cyprus changed the name of these days\nfrom \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 into \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03c2, \u2018the evil days of August[385].\u2019\n\nNow among a people so superstitious as the Greeks it is reasonable to\nsuppose that days thus marked by special abstinences were originally\nsacred to some deities. Washing and tree-cutting at this season must,\nwe may assume, have been offences against some supernatural persons\nwhose festival was then observed and who avenged its profanation; and\nthe supernatural persons most nearly concerned would naturally be the\ntree-nymphs and the water-nymphs.\n\nThe association or even confusion of these two classes of nymphs is\nvery common both in ancient literature and in modern belief, and is\nindeed a natural consequence of the fact that the finest trees, such\nas that plane under which sat Socrates and Phaedrus, grow only in the\nclose vicinity of water. It would have puzzled even Socrates to say\nwhether the Nymphs by whom he might be seized would be more probably\nDryads or Naiads. Homer himself, to go yet further back, suggests the\nsame association, for he tells of \u2018a spreading olive-tree and nigh\nthereto\u2019 the cave of the Naiads in Ithaca. Again in later times we\nfind a dedication by one Cleonymus to \u2018Hamadryads, daughters of the\nriver\u2019[386]; and though an ingenious critic would replace \u1f09\u03bc\u03b1\u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2\nby \u1f08\u03bd\u03b9\u03b3\u03c1\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 (nymphs of the Arcadian river Anigrus), I believe the\nfault to lie with Cleonymus and not with the manuscript; for the place\nwhere he makes his dedication is beneath pine-trees (\u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd). At\nthe present day the same tendency towards confusion of the two classes\nis common. This was well illustrated to me by some peasants of Tenos.\nTen minutes\u2019 walk from the town there is a good spring from which a\nremarkable subterranean passage cut through the solid rock carries the\nwater to supply the town. The spring is within a cave, artificially\nenlarged at the entrance, over which stands a fine fig-tree. Standing\noutside while a companion entered first, I noticed that our guides\n(for several persons had escorted us out of curiosity or hospitality)\nwere distinctly perturbed, and I heard one say to another, \u2018See, he\nis going in, he is not afraid.\u2019 Inferring thence that the place was\nhaunted, and remembering that mid-day, the hour at which we happened\nto be there, was fraught with special peril, I determined to test my\nguides, and so sat down under the fig-tree. Then remarking that the\nsun was hot at noon, I invited them to come and sit in the shade and\nsmoke a cigarette. But the bait was insufficient; they would stand in\nthe sun rather than approach either the spring or the tree, though\nthey were ready enough to accept cigarettes when I moved out of the\nzone of danger. Afterwards by enquiries made elsewhere I learnt that\nthe spot was the reputed home of Nereids--but whether their abode was\ntree or water, who should say? Close neighbours in their habitations,\nindistinguishable in their appearance and attributes, it is pardonable\nto confuse those sister nymphs,\n\n    \u2018Centum quae siluas, centum quae flumina seruant[387].\u2019\n\nIt is exactly this kind of confusion of the two classes of nymphs\nwhich has produced the twofold injunctions for the observance of the\ndays known as \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2: for evidence is forthcoming that this word\noriginally denoted a class of nymphs and not, as generally now, their\nAugust festival. From Stenimachos in Thrace comes the statement that\nby \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 the people there understand female deities who live in\nwater and are always hostile to man, but specially dangerous only\nduring the first six days of August[388]. Here the name \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, if\nthe derivation which I prefer is right, points to the identification of\nthese beings with the ancient Dryads; while their watery habitations\nproclaim them rather Naiads. Reversely again in Syme, where the word\n\u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 is not in use, there are certain nymphs known as \u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\nwho live in mountain-torrents, in trees, and elsewhere, and who are\nseen only at mid-day and at midnight during the first three days of\nAugust; but, far from being hurtful to men, they may even themselves\nbe captured by certain magical ceremonies and employed as servants\nin the house for a period, after which the spell is broken and they\nreturn again to their homes. Their name \u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9[389], said to be\nformed from \u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2[389], the local name for the month of August,\nclearly means \u2018anti-washing,\u2019 and at once identifies them with those\nNaiads whose festival, as I believe, has rendered the waters sacred\nand therefore harmful if disturbed during these days; but on the other\nhand their dwelling-places include trees. These two pieces of evidence\nfrom places so wide apart as Stenimachos and Syme are reinforced by a\npopular expression formerly, and perhaps still, in use, \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03c0\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u1f91\n\u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[390], \u2018the \u201cdrymes\u201d have seized him\u2019; where the word denoting\n\u2018seizure\u2019 is one of those already noted as proper to \u2018seizure\u2019 by\nnymphs.\n\nFrom the usage of the word therefore as well as from its formation we\nmay conclude that the word \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 is the modern equivalent of the\nancient \u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2: and the widely-spread custom of abstaining both from\ntree-cutting and from the use of water during the early days of August\nis a survival of an old joint festival of wood-nymphs and water-nymphs.\n\nBut it is not in the relics of ancient worship only that traces of\nthe Dryads are now to be found. The traveller in Greece will commonly\nhear that such and such a tree is haunted by a Nereid. Particularly\nfamous in North Arcadia is a magnificent pine-tree on the path from\nthe monastery of Megasp\u00e9laeon to the village of Solos. My muleteer\nenthusiastically compared it to the gigantic tree which is believed\nto uphold the world; and piously crossed himself, as we passed it,\nfor fear of the nymph who made it her home. In general the trees thus\nreputed are the fruit-bearing trees which were comprehensively denoted\nby the term \u03b4\u03c1\u1fe6\u03c2, from which the Dryads took their name--the fig-tree,\nthe olive, the holly-oak[391], and the plane. Such trees, especially\nwhen conspicuous for age or for luxuriance, are readily suspected to\nbe the abode of Nereids. One Nereid only, it would seem, is assigned\nto each tree (though, if her retreat be violated, she may swiftly call\nothers of her kind to aid her in taking vengeance), and with the life\nof the tree her own life is bound up.\n\nFor a nymph is not immortal. Her span of life far exceeds that of\nman, but none the less it is measured. \u2018A crow lives twice as long\nas a man, a tortoise twice as long as a crow, and a Nereid twice as\nlong as a tortoise.\u2019 Such is a popular saying which I heard from an\nunlettered peasant of Arcadia, to whom evidently had been transmitted\norally through many centuries a version of Hesiod\u2019s lines, \u2018Verily\nnine times the age of men in their prime doth the croaking raven live;\nand a stag doth equal four ravens; and \u2019tis three lives of a stag ere\nthe crow grows old; but the phoenix hath the life of nine crows; and\nye, fair-tressed Nymphs, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, do live ten\ntimes the phoenix\u2019 age[392].\u2019 Commenting on this passage, Plutarch\ntakes the word \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03ac in the phrase \u1f10\u03bd\u03bd\u03ad\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f21\u03b2\u03ce\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, which\nI have rendered as \u2018nine times the age of men in their prime,\u2019 to\nbe used as the equivalent of \u1f10\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2, a year; and, making a sober\ncomputation on this basis, discovers that the limit of life for nymphs\nand _daemones_ in general is 9720 years. But he then admits that the\nmass of men do not allow so long a duration, and quotes by way of\nillustration a phrase from Pindar, \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b1\u03c2 ... \u1f30\u03c3\u03bf\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bc\u03c9\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f30\u1ff6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, according to which the nymphs are allotted a term of life\ncommensurate with that of a tree; hence, it is added, the compound name\n\u1f09\u03bc\u03b1\u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, Dryads whose lives are severally bound up with those of\nthe trees which they inhabit[393]. Other ancient authorities concur.\nSophocles markedly calls the nymphs of Mt Cithaeron \u2018long-lived\u2019\n(\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2), not \u2018immortal\u2019[394]: Pliny certifies the finding of\ndead Nereids on the coasts of Gaul during the reign of Augustus[395]:\nTzetzes cites from the works of Charon of Lampsacus the story of an\nHamadryad who was in danger of being swept away and drowned by a\nswollen mountain-torrent[396]: and, to revert to yet earlier authority,\nin one of the Homeric Hymns Aphrodite rehearses to Anchises the whole\nmatter[397]. Speaking of the son whom she will bear to him, she says:\n\u2018So soon as he shall see the light of the sun, he shall be tended\nby deep-bosomed nymphs of the mountains, even those that dwell upon\nthis high and holy mount. These verily are neither of mortal men nor\nof immortal gods. Long indeed they live and feed on food divine, and\nthey have strength too for fair dance amid immortals; yea, and with\nthem have the watchful Slayer of Argus and such as Silenus been joined\nin love within the depths of pleasant grots. But at the moment of\ntheir birth, there spring up upon the nurturing earth pines, may be,\nor oaks rearing high their heads, good trees and luxuriant, upon the\nmountain-heights. Far aloft they tower; sanctuaries of immortals they\nare called, and men hew them not with axe[398]. But so soon as the doom\nof death stands beside them, first the good trees are dried up at the\nroot and then their bark withers about them and their branches fall\naway, and therewith the soul of the nymphs too leaves the light of the\nsun.\u2019\n\nSo my Arcadian friend was true to ancient tradition both in his\nestimate of the life of Nereids and in his belief, thereby implied,\nthat they are mortal. Nor is other modern testimony wanting. There are\npopular stories still current concerning Nereids\u2019 deaths. One has been\nrecorded in which a Nereid is struck by God with lightning and slain as\na punishment for stealing a boy from his father, and her sister nymphs\nin terror restore the child[399]. A pertinent confession of faith has\nalso been heard from the lips of a Cretan peasant. In explanation of\nthe name \u039d\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03c0\u03b7\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018Nereid-grot,\u2019 attached to a cave near his\nvillage, he had related a story of a Nereid who was carried off from\nthat spot and taken to wife by a young man, to whom she bore a son; but\nas she would never open her lips in his presence, he went in despair to\nan old woman who advised him to heat an oven hot and then taking the\nchild in his arms to say to the Nereid, \u2018Speak to me; or I will burn\nyour child,\u2019 and so saying to make show of throwing the child into\nthe oven. He did as the old woman advised; but the Nereid saying only,\n\u2018You hound, leave my child alone,\u2019 seized it from him and disappeared.\nAnd since the other Nereids would not admit her again to their company\nin the cave, as being now a mother, she took up her abode in a spring\nclose by; and there she is seen two or three times a year holding the\nchild in her arms. \u2018After hearing this tale,\u2019 says the recorder of\nit, \u2018I asked the old peasant who told it me, how long ago this had\nhappened.\u2019 He replied that he had heard it from his grandfather, and\nguessed it to be about a hundred and sixty years. \u2018My good man,\u2019 said\nthe other, \u2018would not the child have grown up in all that time?\u2019 \u2018What\ndo you suppose, sir?\u2019 he answered; \u2018are those to grow up so easily who\nlive from a thousand to fifteen hundred years?[400]\u2019\n\nHow this period was computed by the Cretan peasant, or whether it\nwas computed at all on any system known to him, is not related; but\nvery probably the longevity of trees was the original basis of the\ncalculation; for the peasants will often point out some old contorted\nolive-trunk as a thousand or more years old; I was once even taken to\nsee a tree reputed to have been planted by Alexander the Great. But\nat any rate it is clear that both in ancient and in modern times the\nnymphs have always been believed to be subject to ultimate death, and\nhowever the tenure of life may be determined in the case of the others,\nthe Dryads have without doubt been generally reckoned coeval with the\ntrees that are their homes.\n\nAn exception to this rule must however be made in the case of\nNereid-haunted trees which do not die a natural death, but are felled\nuntimely. A Nymph\u2019s life is not to be cut short by a humanly-wielded\naxe. In the Homeric Hymn indeed, which I have quoted, we learn that men\nhew not such trees with steel; and the same might, I think, be said\nat the present day with certainty of those trees which are known to\nbe haunted. But the unknown is ever full of risk; and the woodcutter\nof the North Arcadian forests, mindful of the sacrilege which he may\ncommit and fearful of the vengeance wherewith it may be visited,\ntakes such precautions as piety suggests. With muttered appeals to\nthe Panagia or his own patron-saint and with much crossing of himself\nhe fills up the moments between each bout of hewing at any suspected\ntree (unfortunately the finest timber on which he plies his axe is\nalso the most likely to harbour a Nereid) and finally as the upper\nbranches sway and the tree trembles to its fall, he runs back and\nthrows himself down with his face to the ground, in silence which not\neven a prayer must break, lest a Nereid, passing out from her violated\nabode, hear and espy and punish. For, as has been said before, nothing\nis more sure than that he who speaks in the hearing of a Nereid loses\nfrom thenceforth the power of speech; while the practice of hiding\nthe face in the ground is not a foolish imitation of the ostrich, but\nis prompted by the belief that a Nereid is most prone to injure those\nwho by look, word, or touch have of their own act, though not always\nof their own will, placed themselves in communication or contact with\nher[401].\n\nThese precautions appertaining to the lore of modern Greek forestry\nindicate a belief that, when a tree is hewn down, its death does not\ninvolve the death of the Nereid within it, but that she escapes alive\nand vengeful. And herein once more there is agreement between the\nbeliefs of modern and of ancient Greece. Apollonius Rhodius tells\nthe story of the want and penury which befell Paraebius for all his\nlabours. \u2018Verily he was paying a cruel requital for the sin of his\nfather; who once when he was felling trees, alone upon the mountains,\nmade light of the prayers of an Hamadryad. For she with tears and\npassionate speech strove to soften his heart, that he should not hew\nthe trunk of her coeval oak, wherein she lived continuously her whole\nlong life; but he right foolishly did fell the tree, in pride of his\nyoung strength. Wherefore the Nymph set a doom of fruitless toil\nthereafter on him and on his children[402].\u2019\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Naiads, of whose ancient name, so far as I know, no trace remains\nin the dialects of to-day, are not less numerous than other nymphs\nand as much to be feared. The peasants speak of them usually as\n\u2018Nereids of the river\u2019 or \u2018of the spring\u2019 (\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 or\n\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c1\u03cd\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2); and only in one place, Kephal\u00f3vryso (\u2018Fountain-head\u2019)\nin Aetolia, did I find a distinctive by-name for them. This was the\nword \u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[403], which I take to be a half-humorous euphemism\nmeaning \u2018the Parched Ones\u2019; but, so far as sound is concerned, it\nwould be equally permissible to write \u2019\u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 (past participle of\n\u2019\u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03bd\u1ff6 = Latin _respuo_) and to interpret therefore in the sense of\n\u2018the Abominable Ones.\u2019 The latter appellation however seems to me too\noutspoken in view of the awe in which the Naiads are everywhere held.\n\nWherever fresh water is, whether in mountain-torrent or reservoir, in\nriver or village-well, there is peril to be feared; no careful mother\nwill send her children at noontide to fetch water from the spring,\nor, if they are sent, they must at least spit thrice into it before\nthey dip their pitchers, nor will she suffer them to loiter beside a\nstream when dusk has fallen; no cautious man will ford a river without\ncrossing himself first on the brink.\n\nThe actual dwelling-place of these nymphs may be either the depths\nof the water itself or some cave beside the stream. Homer gave to\nthe Naiads of Ithaca for their habitation a grotto, wherein were\neverflowing waters[404]; and though in some cases the nymphs who haunt\nthe mountain caves may as well be Oreads as Naiads, I have preferred\nto deal with them in this place; for usually it is river-gods who\nhave hollowed out these rocky homes for their daughters, and in many\nsuch caves may be seen the everflowing waters that attest the Naiads\u2019\nbirthright.\n\nSome such places, whether springs or caves, have, as might be expected,\nattained greater fame or notoriety than others; some special incident\nstarts a story about them which from generation to generation rolls on\ngathering it may be fresh volume.\n\nA typical story--typical save only for the absence of tragedy, since\nthe Naiads are wont to drown by mistake those whom they carry off--was\nheard by Leo Allatius[405] from what he considered a trustworthy\nsource. \u2018Some well-to-do people of Chios were taking a summer holiday\nin the country _en famille_, when a pretty little girl of the party got\nseparated from the rest and ran off to a well at a little distance.\nAmusing herself, as children will, she leant forward over the well,\nand as she was looking at the water in it, was, without perceiving\nit, insensibly lifted by some force and pushed into the well. Her\nrelations saw her carried off, and running up, perceived the girl\namusing herself on the top of the water as if she were seated on a bed.\nThereupon her father, emboldened by the sight, tried to climb down into\nthe well, but was pulled in by some force and set beside his child.\nIn the meantime some of the others had brought a ladder, which they\nlowered into the well and bade the man ascend. Catching up his daughter\nin his arms, he mounted the ladder safe and sound, and to the amazement\nof all, though father and daughter had been all that time in the water,\nthey came out with clothes perfectly dry, without so much as a trace\nof dampness. The seizure of the girl and her father they attributed\nto Nereids, who were said to haunt that well. The girl too herself\nasserted that while she was hanging over the well, she had seen women\nsporting on the surface of the water with the utmost animation, and at\ntheir invitation had voluntarily thrown herself in.\u2019\n\nThis story, though it ends happily, bears a marked resemblance to that\nof Hylas. It is specially noted that the child had a pretty face, and\nthis without doubt is conceived as impelling the Nereids to seize\nher. It is of little consequence that their home is, in this case,\na mere well instead of \u2018a spring,\u2019 as Theocritus[406] pictures it,\n\u2018in a hollow of the land, whereabout grew rushes thickly and purple\ncuckoo-flower[407] and pale maidenhair and bright green parsley and\nclover spreading wide\u2019; for the ancients also attributed nymphs to\ntheir wells[408].\n\nSuch stories are sometimes causes, sometimes effects, of the\nnot uncommon place-names \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03cc\u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9, \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03c0\u03b7\u03bb\u1fc3\u035c\u03bf[409],\n\u2018Nereid-spring,\u2019 \u2018Nereid-cave.\u2019\n\nTwo such caves, to which the additional interest attaches of having\nbeen in classical times also regarded as holy ground, are found on\nParnassus and on Olympus. The former is the famous Corycian cave\nsacred in antiquity to Pan and the Nymphs[410] and still dreaded\nby the inhabitants of the district as an abode of Nereids[411]. The\nlatter is thought to be the ancient sanctuary of the Pierian Muses,\nand the peasants of the last generation held the place in such awe\nthat they refused to conduct anyone thither for fear of being seized\nwith madness[412]. It is right to add that the tenants of this cavern\nwere called by the vague name \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03c2, which would comprise not\nonly Nereids, but presumably the Muses also, if any remembrance of\nthem survives in the district; but the fear of being seized with\nmadness suggests the ordinary conception of nymphs. In neither of\nthese instances of course can it be claimed that Naiads rather than\nOreads are the possessors of the cave; but as I have said the peasants\ngenerally employ the wide appellation \u2018Nereids\u2019 or some yet vaguer\nname, and do not discriminate between the looks and the qualities\nof the several orders of nymphs. It is only by observing local and\noccasional distinctions that I have been able to trace some survivals\nof the four main ancient classes. In general the \u2018Nereid\u2019 of to-day is\nsimply the \u2018Nymph\u2019 of antiquity.\n\n\n\u00a7 10. THE QUEENS OF THE NYMPHS.\n\nTravelling once in a small sailing-boat from the island of Scyros to\nScopelos I overheard an instructive conversation between one of my two\nboatmen and a shepherd whom we had taken off from the small island\nof Sk\u00e1nzoura. The occasion of our touching there, namely pursuit by\npirates (from whom the North Aegean is not yet wholly free, though\ntheir piracies are seldom of a worse nature than cattle-lifting from\nthe coasts and islands), had certainly had an exciting effect upon my\nboatman\u2019s nerves, and, as darkness fell, the shepherd responded to his\ncompanion\u2019s mood, and their talk ranged over many strange experiences.\nVery soon they were exchanging confidences about the supernatural\nbeings with whom they had come into contact; and among these figured\ntwo who are the queens respectively of the nymphs of land and of sea.\nOf these deities one only was known to each of the speakers, but on\ncomparing notes they agreed that the two personalities were distinct.\n\nThe landsman told of one whom he named \u2018the queen of the mountains\u2019 (\u1f21\n\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd) who with a retinue of Nereids was ever roaming\nover the hills or dancing in some wooded dell. In form she was as a\nNereid, but taller and more glistening-white than they; and as she\nsurpassed her comrades in beauty, so did she also excel in cruelty\ntowards those who heedlessly crossed her path. The sailor on the other\nhand had both seen and heard one whom he called \u2018the queen of the\nshore\u2019 (\u1f21 \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6). Most often she stands in the sea with\nthe water waist-high about her, and sings passionate love-songs to\nthose who pass by on the shore. Then must men close fast their eyes and\nstop their ears; for, if they yield to her seductions, the bridal bed\nis in the depths of the sea and she alone rises up again to tempt yet\nothers with her fatal love.\n\nThe former is without question she of whom Homer sang, \u2018In company with\nher do mirthful nymphs ... range o\u2019er the land.... High above them all\nshe carries her head and brow, and full easily is she known, though\nthey all be beautiful\u2019[413].\n\nNigh on three thousand years ago was composed this graceful epitome of\nbeliefs still current to-day; for, though the name of Artemis is no\nlonger heard, her personality remains. The peasants in general describe\nrather than name her. In Zacynthos she is called \u2018the great lady\u2019 (\u1f21\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b7 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac)[414]; in Cephalonia and in the villages of Parnassus\nshe is distinguished simply as \u2018the chief\u2019 or \u2018the greatest\u2019 of the\nNereids[415]; in either Chios or Scopelos (I cannot say which, for\nmy shepherd had been born in the former but was then living in the\nlatter) her title is \u2018Queen of the mountains.\u2019 In Aetolia however I was\nfortunate enough to hear an actual name assigned, \u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u039a\u03ac\u03bb\u03c9, \u2018the\nlady Beautiful,\u2019 where the shift of the accent in \u039a\u03ac\u03bb\u03c9 as compared\nwith the adjective \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 is natural to the formation of a proper name,\nand the feminine termination in -\u03c9, almost obsolete now, argues an\nearly origin. The name therefore in its present form may have come\ndown unchanged from classical times; but, whatever its age, we may\nat least hear in it an echo of the ancient cult-title of Artemis,\n\u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7, \u2018most beautiful\u2019[416]. The same deity, I suspect, survived\nalso until recently, under a disguised form but with a kindred name,\nin Athens: for the folk there used to tell of one whom they named\n\u2018Saint Beautiful\u2019 (\u1f21 \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae), but to whom no church was ever\ndedicated[417]; her canonisation was only popular.\n\nThe account which I received in Aetolia of this \u2018lady Beautiful\u2019\nagreed closely with the description already given of \u2018the queen of\nthe mountains.\u2019 In appearance and in character she is but a Nereid on\na larger scale. All the beauty and the frowardness so freely imputed\nto the nymphs are superlatively hers; there is no safety from her; on\nhillside, in coppice, by rivulet, everywhere she may be encountered;\nthe tongue that makes utterance in her presence is thenceforth tied,\nand the eyes that behold her are darkened. The punishment that befell\nTeiresias of old for looking upon Athena as she bathed still awaits\nthose who stray by mischance beside some sequestered pool or stream\nwhere the Nereids and their queen are wont to bathe in the heat of noon.\n\nSuch a spot, favoured in olden time by Artemis and her attendant\nNaiads, was the Cretan river Amnisos[418]; and it was probably no\nmere coincidence, but a good instance rather of the continuity of\nlocal tradition, that in comparatively recent times her personality\nand perhaps even her old name were still known in the district. It\nis recorded that in the sixteenth century both priests and people of\nthe district declared that at a pretty little tarn near the Gulf of\nMirabella they had seen \u2018Diana and her fair nymphs\u2019 lay aside their\nwhite raiment and bathe and disappear in the clear waters[419]. It\nwould have been highly interesting to know the name of the goddess\nwhich the Italian writer translated as \u2018Diana.\u2019 Though it is true that\nin Italy[420] Diana herself was still worshipped in magical nightly\norgies as late as the fourteenth century, it is scarcely likely that\nthe Italian name had been adopted in Crete. More probably the slovenly\nfashion of miscalling Greek deities by Latin names was as common then\nas now; and in this instance a piece of valuable evidence has thereby\nbeen irretrievably lost. Yet the traditional connexion of Artemis with\nthis district of Crete warrants the assumption that the leader of the\nnymphs of whom the story tells was in personality, if not also in name,\nthe ancient Greek goddess, and no Italian importation.\n\nDistinct reference to the bathing of Artemis is also made in a story\nwhich has already been related in connexion with Aphrodite and\nEros[421]. A prince, who had journeyed to the garden of Eros to fetch\nwater for the healing of his father\u2019s blindness, saw in the spring\nthere \u2018a woman white as snow and shining as the moon. And it was in\nvery truth the moon that bathed here.\u2019 The last sentence, provided\nalways that it be free from modern scholastic contamination, is an\nunique example of the survival of Artemis in the _r\u00f4le_ of the moon;\nwhile the healing properties of the spring in which she bathes offer\na coincidence, certainly undesigned, with the powers of the goddess\nwhom her worshippers of yore besought to \u2018banish unto the mountain-tops\nsickness and suffering\u2019[422].\n\nWhether \u2018the lady Beautiful\u2019 is known now also in her ancient\nhuntress-guise, is a point not readily determined. In Aetolia certainly\nI once or twice heard mention of her hunting on the mountains, but\nwithout feeling sure whether the word \u2018hunt\u2019 was being used literally\nor in metaphor. Expressions borrowed from the chase are not uncommon\nin the language, and the particular verb \u03ba\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u1ff6, \u2018I hunt,\u2019 is in the\nvernacular used of anything from rabbit-shooting to wife-beating. The\ninjuries inflicted by Artemis on those who trespass upon her haunts\nmight possibly be denoted by the same term. On the other hand it is\nnot in the character of \u2018the lady Beautiful,\u2019 as it is in that of the\n\u2018hunter\u2019 Charos, to seek men out and slay them; men may fall chance\nvictims to the sudden anger of the goddess, but they are the chosen\nquarry of the other\u2019s prowess; he is a true \u2018hunter\u2019 of men, and, try\nas they will to evade him, he still pursues; but Artemis strikes none\nwho turn aside from her path. I incline therefore to believe that the\nword \u2018to hunt\u2019 was intended literally when I heard it used of \u2018the lady\nBeautiful,\u2019 and that the ancient Artemis\u2019 love of the chase is not\nforgotten by the Aetolian peasantry.\n\nSuch are the reminiscences of Artemis which I have been able to\ngather in a few districts of modern Greece. But it is clear that down\nto the seventeenth century the goddess was much more widely known.\nLeo Allatius[423], writing about the year 1630, after giving a good\ndescription of the Nereids, plunges abruptly into a long quotation from\nMichael Psellus, from which and from Allatius\u2019 own comments on it some\ninformation about the Queen of the Nereids may be gleaned. The passage\nin question runs as follows, the comments and explanations in brackets\nbeing my own:--\n\n\u2018\u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f61\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd. Supply \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd. (Apparently a proverb, \u2018Fair\nmother, fine son,\u2019 to the usage of which Psellus gives some religious\ncolour.) For the Virgin that brought forth was wonderfully fair,\ndazzling in the brightness of her graces, and her son was exceeding\nbeautiful, fair beyond the sons of men. (Notwithstanding however the\nreligious significance of the proverb, he at once condemns the use of\nit.) As a matter of fact, the phrase is due to faulty speech. For the\npopular language has perverted the saying. It is right to say \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd\n\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd (\u2018fair lady of the mountains\u2019); but the people have made\nthe saying \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f61\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd (\u2018fair mother, fine son\u2019). (There is no\ndistinction in sound, according to the modern pronunciation, between\n\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd and \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f61\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd.) Hence we see that the popular imagination\nhad once fashioned, quite unreasonably, a female deity whose domain was\nthe mountains and who as it were disported herself upon them.... There\nis no deity called \u2018fair lady of the mountains,\u2019 nor is the so-called\nBarychnas a deity at all but a trouble arising in the head from\nheartburn or ill-digested food, ... which is also known as Ephialtes.\u2019\n\nHere Psellus is rambling in his dissertation as wildly as though his\nown head were affected by this demoniacal ailment. Which Allatius\nobserving comments thus:--\n\n\u2018What has Barychnas or Babutzicarius[424] or if you like Ephialtes to\ndo with the fair lady of the woods or the mountains (_pulcram nemorum\nsive montium_)? From them men suffer lying abed; whereas attacks such\nas we have said are made by Callicantzarus[425], Burcolacas[426],\nor Nereid, occur in the open country and public roadways.... And\nPsellus himself knew quite well that the \u2018fair lady of the mountains\u2019\nwas nothing other than those who are commonly called the \u2018fair\nmistresses\u2019[427] (i.e. Nereids), who have nothing on earth to do with\nBarychnas and Ephialtes.\u2019\n\nThe argument of this strangely confused passage is happily beside our\nmark, and we need not puzzle, with Psellus, over the demonology of\ndyspepsia. His interpretation of the phrase \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd I have even\nventured to omit, for a devious path of wilful reasoning leads only to\nthe conclusion that it means the tree on which Christ was crucified.\nThe only method in his mad medley of medicine and theology is the\nintention to refute the popular belief in a beautiful goddess who\nhaunted the mountains.\n\nSome details of the belief may be gathered from Allatius\u2019 criticism of\nthe argument. Psellus mentions only the title \u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd, but\nAllatius amplifies it in the phrase _pulcram nemorum sive montium_,\nimplying thereby that in his own time Artemis--for it can be none\nother--was associated as much with woodland as with mountain; while her\nintimate connexion with the Nereids is adduced as a matter of common\nknowledge. The somewhat loose phrase by which Allatius indicates this\nfact--_pulcram montium nihil aliud esse quam eas quas vulgus vocat\npulcras dominas_--must not be read in any strict and narrow sense. The\nbeautiful lady of the mountains is, he means, just such as are the\nNereids; but she is a definite person, distinguished as of old among\nher comrades by supreme grace and loveliness.\n\nThe statements of Leo Allatius, based as they are in the main upon his\nown recollections of his native Chios, find remarkable corroboration\nin a history of the same island written a little earlier by one\nJerosme Justinian[428]. In the main the history is purely fabulous,\ntaking its start from a point, if my memory serves me rightly, many\ncenturies earlier than the Deluge; but the reference to contemporary\nsuperstitions may I think be trusted.\n\nPreviously to the passage which I translate, the writer has been\ntelling the tale of the building of a wonderful tower by king Scelerion\nof Chios, wherein to guard his daughter Omorfia (Beauty) and three\nmaids of honour with her until such time as he should find a husband\nworthy of her; how the workmen never left the tower till it was\nfinished; how the master-mason threw down his implements from the top\nand himself essayed to fly down on wings of his own contrivance, which\nhowever failed to work as he had hoped, with the result that he fell\ninto the river below the castle and was drowned; and how his ghost\nwas seen there every first of May at midday. This story, which may be\ntaken as a fair type of the whole \u2018history,\u2019 leads, by its mentions of\napparitions on May 1st, to the following passage[429]:--\n\n\u2018They have also another foolish belief, that near the tower are to be\nseen three youthful women, clothed in white, who invite passers-by to\nthrow themselves into the river and get some cups of gold and silver\nwhich by diabolical illusion are seen floating on the water, in the\nhope that going into the river they may be drowned in a whirlpool\ncalled by the Greeks Chiroclacas, the water of which penetrates beneath\nthe mountain as far as the precipice where the princess still shows\nherself. Further, there is no manner of doubt that the three ladies\nwho appear to the inhabitants of the place are those spirits who make\ntheir dwelling in the water, assuming the form of women, and called by\nthe ancients _Nereides_ or _Negiardes_; the good women are so abused by\nthese illusions that on the first of May they are wont to make crosses\non their doors, saying that the goddess of their mountains is due to\ncome and visit them in their houses, and that without this mark she\nwould not come in; likewise they say that she would slay any one who\nshould go to meet her. And so they give her the name of \u2018good,\u2019 being\nobliged by the fear in which they hold her to give her this title of\nhonour. Some people are of opinion that this goddess is one of the\nOread nymphs who dwell in the mountains....\u2019\n\nThis \u2018goddess of the mountains\u2019 whom they call \u2018good\u2019 (i.e. probably\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae) is beyond doubt the same who was known to Psellus and to\nAllatius as \u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd, \u2018the beautiful lady of the mountains,\u2019\nand to my pastoral informant as \u1f21 \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd, \u2018the queen of\nthe mountains\u2019; and in general the conception of her is the same as\ncontinues locally to the present day. One statement indeed I cannot\nexplain, namely that the women make crosses on their doors with the\npurpose of attracting the goddess to their houses; for I have already\nmentioned the same use of the symbol for the contrary purpose of\nkeeping the Nereids out[430]. Possibly as regards this detail of the\n\u2018foolish belief\u2019 the _grand seigneur_ was wrongly informed. But in\nother respects, in the close association of the goddess with the Oreads\nor other nymphs, in the fear which she inspired, in the belief that she\nslew those who ventured upon her path, the Chian record is in complete\nagreement with the description which I have given from oral sources. In\nterror, as in charm, the Nereids\u2019 queen is foremost.\n\nA contrary view however is taken by Bernard Schmidt[431], who states\nthat she is pictured by the commonfolk as gentler and friendlier\nto man than her companions, and even disposed to check their light\nand froward ways. On such a point, I freely admit, local tradition\nmight well vary; but in this particular case I am inclined to think\nthat Schmidt fell into the error of confusing the wild-roaming,\nnymph-escorted goddess of hill and vale and fountain with that other\ngoddess who dwells solitary in the heart of the mountain, dispensing\nblessings to the good and pains to the wicked, and in the conception of\nwhom we found an aftermath of the ancient crop of legends concerning\nDemeter and Kore. Surely this grand and lonely figure, \u2018the Mistress\nof the Earth and of the Sea,\u2019 is in every trait different from the\nlovely, capricious, cruel \u2018Queen of the Mountains.\u2019 Indeed the very\ncircumstance of both presentations being known in one and the same\ndistrict--as, to my own knowledge, in Aetolia, and, on Schmidt\u2019s own\nshowing, in Zacynthos[432]--proves that two divine persons, in type\nand in character essentially different, are here involved, and not\nmerely two accidental and local differentiations of the same deity.\nDoubtless in the more \u2018civilised\u2019 parts of Greece (to use the word\nbeloved of the half-educated town-bred Greek), in the parts where old\nbeliefs and customs are falling into decay and contempt while nothing\ngood is substituted for them, even the lower classes have lost or are\nlosing count and memory of many of those powers whom their forefathers\nacknowledged; but in the more favourably sequestered villages, let us\nsay, of Aetolia, where superstition still fears no mockery, no peasant\nwould commit the mistake of confounding his Demeter with his Artemis.\nBetween majestic loneliness and frolicsome throng, between dignified\nbeauty and bewitching loveliness, between gentleness and lightness,\nbetween love of good and wanton merriment, between justice and caprice,\nthe gulf is wide.\n\nBut while the modern Artemis is the leader of her nymphs in mischief\nand even in cruelty, it must not be thought that she is always a foe\nto man. In Aetolia \u2018the lady Beautiful\u2019 is quick to avenge a slight or\nan intrusion; but for those who pay her due reverence she is a ready\nhelper and a giver of good gifts. Health and wealth lie in her hand,\nto bestow or to withhold, as in the hands of the Nereids. Hence even\nhe whom her sudden anger has once smitten may regain her favour by\nofferings of honey and other sweetmeats on the scene of his calamity.\nAnd probably peace-offerings with less definite intent have been or\nstill are in vogue; for it is reported that presents used to be brought\nto the cross-roads in Zacynthos at midday or midnight simply to appease\n\u2018the great lady\u2019 and her train[433], a survival surely of the ancient\nbanquets of Hecate surnamed \u03a4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b4\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2, \u2018Goddess of the Cross-roads.\u2019\n\nIn some cases hesitation may be felt in pronouncing an opinion whether\nit is for Artemis and the nymphs or for the Fates[434] (\u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9) that\nthese gifts are intended; and in the category of the doubtful must\nbe included all those cases where the dedication of the offerings\nis merely to the \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[435], \u2018good ladies,\u2019 no further\ninformation being vouchsafed. Several writers, including the German\nRoss and the Greek Pittakis, appear to have assumed without sufficient\nenquiry that none but the Nereids could be thus designated; but as a\nmatter of fact, the same euphemistic title is occasionally given also\nto the Fates[436]; and while I incline to trust the experience and\njudgement of Ross in the general statement which he makes concerning\nsuch offerings at Athens, Thebes, and elsewhere[437], the accuracy of\nPittakis[438] on the other hand is challenged by the actual spot which\nhe is describing when he identifies the \u2018good ladies\u2019 with the Nereids;\nfor the place was none other than the so-called \u2018prison of Socrates,\u2019\nwhich the testimony of many travellers concurs in assigning to the\nFates.\n\nBut, though some of the evidence concerning offerings demands closer\nscrutiny before it can have any bearing upon the continued belief in\nthe existence of Artemis, there are certainly some corners of Greece in\nwhich that goddess is still worshipped. \u2018The great lady,\u2019 \u2018the Queen of\nthe mountains,\u2019 \u2018the lady Beautiful\u2019 are the various titles of a single\ngoddess whose beauty and quick anger have ever since the heroic age\nheld the Greek folk in awe and demanded their reverence; and until the\ninroads of European civilisation destroy with the weapon of ridicule\nall that is old in custom and creed, Artemis will continue to hold some\nsway over hill and stream and woodland.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe other queen, of whom my boatman spoke, \u2018the Queen of the Shore,\u2019\nshe who stands in the shallows and by her beauty and sweet voice\nentices the unwary to share her bed in the depths of the sea, must\nI think be identified with a being who is more commonly called \u2018the\nLamia of the Sea\u2019 or \u2018the Lamia of the Shore.\u2019 A popular poem[439] from\nSalonica, in which these two titles are found side by side, tells of a\ncontest between her and a young shepherd. One day, in disregard of his\nmother\u2019s warning, he was playing his pipes upon the shore, when the\nLamia appeared to him and made a wager with him that she would dance\nlonger than he would go on playing. If he should win, he should have\nher to wife; if she should win, she was to take all his flocks as the\nprize. Three days the shepherd played, three whole nights and days;\nthen his strength failed him, and the Lamia took his sheep and goats\nand left him destitute.\n\nThis poem has some points in common with a belief said to be held in\nthe district of Parnassos, that if a young man--especially one who is\nhandsome--play the flute or sing at mid-day or midnight upon the shore,\nthe Lamia thereof emerges from the depths of the sea, and with promises\nof a happy life tries to persuade him to be her husband and to come\nwith her into the sea; if the young man refuse, she slays him[440]; and\npresumably, though this is not mentioned, if he consent, she drowns him.\n\nThe same Lamia, it is recorded[441], is also known on the coasts of\nElis as a dangerous foe to sailors; for her work is the waterspout and\nthe whirlwind, whereby their ships are engulfed. Among the Cyclades too\nthe same belief certainly prevails (though I have never obtained there\nany details concerning the character of the Lamia); for on seeing a\nwaterspout the sailors will exclaim, \u2018the Lamia of the Sea is passing\u2019\n(\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03bd\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f21 \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5), and sometimes stick a black-handled\nknife into the mast as a charm against her[442].\n\nIn these somewhat meagre accounts of the Lamia of the Sea, there are\nseveral points in harmony with the general conception of Nereids.\nShe is beautiful; she seeks the love of young men, even though that\nlove mean death to them; she is sweet of voice and untiring in dance;\nand she passes to and fro in waterspout or whirlwind. It is not\nsurprising then to find that in Elis she is actually named queen of the\nNereids[443], that is, without doubt, of the sea-nymphs only, since\nshe herself has her domain only in the sea. And the title \u2018queen of\nthe shore\u2019 which I learnt of my boatman from Scyros points to the same\nbelief; for as we found Artemis, \u2018queen of the mountains,\u2019 to be the\nleader of all the Nereids of the land, so should \u2018the queen of the\nshore\u2019 be ruler over the Nereids of the sea.\n\nHow far this conception of the Lamia of the Sea accords with classical\ntradition, it is impossible to decide. Only in one passage, a fragment\nof Stesichorus[444], is there any evidence of the connexion of a Lamia\nwith the sea. There the marine monster, Scylla, was made \u2018the daughter\nof Lamia,\u2019 a phrase which has given rise to the conjecture that the\nancients like the moderns, as we shall see in the next section,\nrecognised more than one species. A marine Lamia would supply the most\nnatural parentage for Scylla; and if her mother may be identified\nwith the modern Lamia of the Sea, the foe of ships and creator of the\nwaterspout, the character of Scylla is true to her lineage.\n\nBut the other traits in the character of the modern Lamia of the Sea\ncan hardly be hers by such ancient prescription. It is difficult to\nsuppose that Stesichorus pictured Scylla\u2019s mother as a thing of beauty;\nand the charm of the modern Lamia\u2019s love-songs which seduce men to\ntheir death is perhaps an attribute borrowed from the Sirens. It is\ntherefore in virtue of acquired rather than original qualities that the\nLamia of the Sea has come to be queen of the sea-nymphs.\n\n\n\u00a7 11. LAMIAE, GELLOUDES, AND STRIGES.\n\nThe three classes of female monsters, of whom the present section\ntreats, have ever since the early middle ages[445] been constantly\nconfounded, and the special attributes of each assigned promiscuously\nto the others. This is due to the fact that all three possess one\npronounced quality in common, the propensity towards preying upon young\nchildren; and wherever this horrible trait has absorbed, as it well\nmay, the whole attention of mediaeval writer or modern peasant, the\ndistinctions between them in origin and nature have become obscured.\nYet sufficient information is forthcoming, if used with discrimination,\nto enable some account to be given of each class separately.\n\nThe Lamiae are hideous monsters, shaped as gigantic and coarse-looking\nwomen for the most part, but, with strange deformities of the lower\nlimbs such as Aristophanes attributed to a kindred being, the\nEmpusa[446]. Their feet are dissimilar and may be more than two\nin number; one is often of bronze, while others resemble those of\nanimals--ox, ass, or goat[447]. Tradition relates that one of these\nmonsters was once shot by a peasant at Korop\u00edon, a village in Attica,\nand was found to measure three fathoms in length; and her loathsome\nnature was attested by the fact that, when her body was thrown out in\na desert plain, no grass would grow where her blood had dripped[448].\nThe chief characteristics of the Lamiae, apart from their thirst for\nblood, are their uncleanliness, their gluttony, and their stupidity.\nThe details of the first need not be named, but would still furnish\na jest for Aristophanes in his coarser mood as they did of old[449].\nTheir gluttony is clearly proved by their unwieldy corpulence. Their\nstupidity is best shown in their sorry management of their homes;\nfor even the Lamiae have their domestic duties, being mated usually,\naccording to the folk-tales[450], with dragons (\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9), and making\ntheir abode in caverns and desert places. They ply the broom so poorly\nthat \u2018the Lamia\u2019s sweeping\u2019 (\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1) has become a\nproverb for untidiness[451]; they are so ignorant of bread-making\nthat they put their dough into a cold oven and heap the fire on top\nof it[452]; they give their dogs hay to eat, and bones to their\nhorses[453]. But they have at least the redeeming virtue of sometimes\nshowing gratitude to those who help them out of the ill plight to which\ntheir ignorance has brought them[454].\n\nTheir stupidity also is regarded by the Greeks as a cause of honesty.\nThough they are often rich, as being the consorts of dragons whose\nchief function it is to keep guard over hidden treasure, they have not\nthe wit to keep their wealth, but foolishly keep their word instead.\nAthenian tradition tells of a very rich Lamia (known by the name of \u1f21\n\u039c\u03cc\u03c1\u03b1, perhaps better written \u039c\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, a proper name formed from \u03bc\u03c9\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2,\n\u2018foolish\u2019), who used to walk about at night, seizing and crushing men\nwhom she met till they roared like bulls. But if her victim kept his\nwits about him and snatched her head-dress from her, she would, in\norder to get it back, promise him both life and wealth, and keep her\nword[455].\n\nSuch aspects of the Lamiae however are by no means universally\nacknowledged; nine peasants out of ten, I suspect, could give no\nfurther information about their character than that they feed on human\nflesh and choose above all new-born infants as their prey. Hence\ncomes the popular phrase (employed, it would appear, in more than one\ndistrict of Greece) in reference to children who have died suddenly,\n\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f14\u03c0\u03bd\u03b9\u03be\u03b5 \u1f21 \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1[456], \u2018the Child has been strangled by the\nLamia.\u2019\n\nBut in general I think the ravages of Lamiae have ceased to inspire\nmuch genuine fear in the peasants\u2019 minds. One there was, so I heard,\nnear Kephal\u00f3vryso in Aetolia, whose dwelling-place, a cave beside\na torrent-bed, was to some extent dreaded and avoided. But in most\nparts the Lamia only justifies the memory of her existence by serving\nto provide adventures for the heroes of folk-stories; by lending her\nname, along with Empusa and Mormo (who still locally survive[457]),\nas a terror with which mothers may intimidate naughty children, or by\nfurnishing it as a ready weapon of vituperation in the wordy warfare of\nwomen.\n\nThe word Lamia, which has survived unchanged in form down to the\npresent day save that the by-forms \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1, \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1 and \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 are\nlocally preferred, did not originally it would seem indicate a species\nof monster but a single person. Lamia according to classical tradition\nwas the name of a queen of Libya who was loved by Zeus, and thus\nexcited the resentment of Hera, who robbed her of all her children;\nwhereupon the desolate queen took up her abode in a grim and lonely\ncavern, and there changed into a malicious and greedy monster, who\nin envy and despair stole and killed the children of more fortunate\nmothers[458].\n\nBut a plural of the word, indicating that the single monster had\nbeen multiplied into a whole class, soon occurs. Philostratus[459]\nin speaking of \u2018the Empusae, which the common people call Lamiae and\nMormolykiae,\u2019 says, \u2018Now these desire indeed the pleasures of love,\nbut yet more do they desire human flesh, and use the pleasures of love\nto decoy those on whom they will feast.\u2019 A plural such as is here used\nmight of course be merely a studied expression of contempt for vulgar\nsuperstitions; but the latter part of the quotation seems to give a\nfair summary of the character of ancient Lamiae. This is illustrated\nby a gruesome story, narrated by Apuleius[460], of two Lamiae who, in\nvengeance for a slight of the love proffered by one of them to a young\nman named Socrates, tore out his heart one night before the eyes of his\ncompanion Aristomenes.\n\nOf these two main characteristics of the ancient Lamiae, the one,\nlasciviousness, has come to be mainly imputed in modern times to the\nLamia of the Sea, the single deity who rules the sea-nymphs; while the\ncraving for human flesh is the most marked feature of the terrestrial\ntribe of Lamiae. But the latter certainly are the truest descendants\nof the ancient Lamia, and occupy a place in popular belief such as she\nheld of old; for few, it would seem, stood then in any serious fear of\nthe Lamia; the testimony of several ancient writers[461] (the story of\nApuleius notwithstanding) proves that more than two thousand years ago\nshe had already fallen to the level of bogeys which frighten none but\nchildren.\n\n\nGELLOUDES.\n\nIn my account of the Nereids properly so-called, reference was made to\ncertain beings known in the Cyclades as \u1f00\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 and\nreckoned by several writers[462] among the nymphs of the sea. In this\nthey certainly have the support of popular etymology; for in Amorgos\nTheodore Bent[463] heard that \u2018an evil spirit lived close by, which now\nand again rises out of the sea and seizes infants; hence it is called\nGialo\u00f9 (from \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2[464], the sea (_sic_)).\u2019 But it is, I think, only\nan erroneous association by the inhabitants of the Cyclades of two\nlike-sounding words which has caused the \u1f08\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 to be regarded\nas marine demons; Bent\u2019s information transposes cause and effect.\nElsewhere in Greece there are known certain beings called \u0393\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or\n\u0393\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, female demons with a propensity to carry off young children\nand to devour them; and it is strange that so careful an authority on\nGreek folk-lore as Bernhard Schmidt should not have recognised that the\nname \u1f00\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 employed in some of the Cyclades is only a dialectic\nform of the commoner \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[465] with an euphonetic \u1f00 prefixed as in\nthe case of \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 and \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2. Enquiry in Tenos revealed to me the\nfact, not mentioned, though perhaps implied, in the statement of Bent,\nthat the \u1f00\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 are there believed to feed upon the children whom\nthey carry off. This trait at once confirms their identity with the\n\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, and renders it impossible to class them as a form of nymph.\nIt is of course believed that nymphs of the sea or of rivers, when they\ncarry off human children to their watery habitations, do incidentally\ndrown them, but by an oversight and not of malice prepense. But\nsavagely to prey upon human flesh--for all the nymphs\u2019 wantonness and\ncruelty, that is a thing abhorrent from their nature and inconceivable\nin them. This horrid propensity proves the \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or \u1f00\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 to\nbe a separate class of female demons.\n\nThe chief authority on these malignant beings is Leo Allatius[466],\nwho both quotes a series of passages which enable us to trace the\ndevelopment of the belief in them, and also tells a story which is the\nonly source of evidence concerning other of their characteristics than\ntheir appetite for the flesh of infants.\n\nTheir prototype, mentioned, we are told, by Sappho, was the maiden\nGello, whose spectre after her untimely end was said by the people of\nLesbos to beset children and to be chargeable with the early deaths of\ninfants[467].\n\nThe individuality of this Gello continued to be recognised to some\nextent as late as the tenth century[468]; for Ignatius, a deacon of\nConstantinople, in his life of the Patriarch Tarasius named her as a\nsingle demon, though he added that the crime of killing children in\nthe same way was also imputed to a whole class of witches. \u2018Hence,\u2019\ncomments Allatius, \u2018it has come about that at the present day Striges\n(i.e. the witches of whom Ignatius speaks), because they practise\nevil arts upon infants and by sucking their blood or in other ways\ncause their death, are called Gellones[469].\u2019 In the story also which\nexhibits the chief qualities of this demon, her name (in the form\n\u0393\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6) appears still as a proper name.\n\nBut the multiplication of the single demon into a whole class dates\nfrom long before the time of Allatius. John of Damascus in the eighth\ncentury used the plural \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 as a popular word, the meaning of\nwhich he took to be the same as that of Striges (\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03b9); and Michael\nPsellus too in the eleventh century evidently regarded these two words\nas interchangeable designations of a class of beings (whether of demons\nor of witches, he leaves uncertain); for after an exact account of the\nStriges and their thirst for children\u2019s blood, he says that new-born\ninfants who waste away (as if from the draining of their blood by these\nStriges) are called \u0393\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03cc\u03b2\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1[470], \u2018Gello-eaten.\u2019\n\nThe story of Leo Allatius[471], which sets forth the chief qualities\nof Gello, is a legend of which the Saints Sisynios and Synidoros are\nthe heroes. The children of their sister Melitene had been devoured\nby this demon, and they set themselves to capture her. She, to effect\nher escape, at once changed her shape, and became first a swallow and\nthen a fish; but, for all her slippery and elusive transformations,\nthey finally caught her in the form of a goat\u2019s hair adhering to the\nking\u2019s beard. Then addressing to her the words \u2018Cease, foul Gello, from\nslaying the babes of Christians,\u2019 they worked upon her fears until they\nextorted from her a confession of her twelve and a half names, the\nknowledge of which was a safeguard against her assaults.\n\nIt is this list of names in which the various aspects of her activity\nappear. The first is \u0393\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6, one of the forms of the name Gello; the\nsecond \u039c\u03c9\u03c1\u03ac[472], the name of a kind of Lamia; the third \u0392\u03c5\u03b6\u03bf\u1fe6 or\n\u2018blood-sucker\u2019; the fourth \u039c\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6, probably \u2018stony-hearted\u2019; the\nfifth \u03a0\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, for she can fly as a bird in the air; the sixth \u03a0\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1,\nfor she can swim as a fish in the sea; the seventh \u0392\u03bf\u03c1\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1[473],\nprobably meaning \u2018stooping like a kite on her prey\u2019; the eighth\n\u1f08\u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6, \u2018insatiable\u2019; the ninth \u03a7\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, for she can lurk like\na snake in the earth; the tenth \u1f08\u03bd\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03b1[474], possibly \u2018soaring\nlike a lark in the air\u2019; the eleventh \u03a8\u03c5\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1[475], \u2018snatcher\nof souls\u2019; the twelfth \u03a0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03bd\u03af\u03ba\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, \u2018strangler of children\u2019; and the\nhalf-name \u03a3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1, the kind of witch whereof the next section treats.\n\nWhether these names are anywhere still remembered as a mystic\nincantation, or all the qualities which they imply still imputed to\nthe Gelloudes, I cannot say. But a modern cure for such of the demon\u2019s\ninjuries as are not immediately fatal has been recorded from Amorgos.\n\u2018If a child has been afflicted by it, the mother first sends for the\npriest to curse the demon, and scratches her child with her nails; if\nthese plans do not succeed, she has to go down at sunset to the shore,\nand select forty round stones brought up by forty different waves;\nthese she must take home and boil in vinegar, and when the cock crows\nthe evil phantom will disappear and leave the child whole[476].\u2019\n\n\nSTRIGES.\n\nThe Striges, though often confused with Lamiae and with Gelloudes, are\nessentially different from them. The two classes with which I have\ndealt are demons; the Striges, in the modern acceptation of the term,\nare women who possess the power to transform themselves into birds of\nprey or other animals; and it is only the taste for blood, shared by\nthem with those demons, which has created the confusion.\n\nThe Striges moreover cannot, like the Lamiae or Gelloudes, be claimed\neither as an original product of the Greek imagination or as the\nexclusive property of Greek superstition at the present day. The\nAlbanians have a word \u03c3\u0308\u03c4\u03c1\u1fd1\u0301\u03b3\u0307\u03b5\u0331\u03b1, and the people of Corsica a\nterm _strega_, both of which denote a witch of the same powers and\npropensities as are feared in Greece; and it is likely that all of\nthem--Greeks, Albanians, Corsicans--have borrowed the conception from\nItaly. The ancient Greeks indeed had a word \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03be identical with\nthe _strix_ of Latin, but the shrieking night-bird denoted by it was\nnot, so far as I can discover, invested by Greek imagination with any\nterrors. In Italy on the contrary the Strix was widely feared as a\nbloodthirsty monster in bird-form. Pliny evidently supposed it to be\nsome actual bird, though he doubted the fables concerning it. \u2018The\n_strix_,\u2019 he says, \u2018certainly is mentioned in ancient curses; but what\nkind of bird it may be, is not I think agreed[477].\u2019 Perhaps in those\n\u2018ancient curses\u2019 it was invoked to inflict such punishment upon enemies\nas it once meted out to Otos and Ephialtes for their attempt upon\nDiana\u2019s chastity[478].\n\nThe notion however that Striges were not really birds but witches in\nbird-form early suggested itself and found an exponent in Ovid[479].\n\u2018Voracious birds,\u2019 he says, \u2018there are ... that fly forth by night and\nassail children who still need a nurse\u2019s care, and seize them out of\ntheir cradles and do them mischief. With their beaks they are said to\npick out the child\u2019s milk-fed bowels, and their throat is full of the\nblood they drink. Striges they are called ... and whether they come\ninto being as birds or are changed thereto by incantation, and the\nMarsian spell transforms old women into winged things,\u2019--such are their\nways.\n\nThis was probably the state of the superstition when the Greeks added\nStriges to their own list of nightly terrors; and the very form of\nthe word in modern Greek, \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1 or \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1 (being apparently a\ndiminutive, _strigula_, such as spoken Latin would readily have formed\nfrom the literary form _strix_), testifies to the borrowing of the\nbelief.\n\nIn Greece the latter of the two ways in which Ovid explained the\norigin of the Strix seems to have been generally accepted as correct.\nIt is true that the modern Greeks still have a real bird called\n\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9[480] (either some kind of owl or the night-jar), which not\nonly loves twilight or darkness in the upper world but is also said to\nhaunt the gloomy demesnes of Charos below--thereby revealing perhaps\nsome slight evidence of its relationship to the _strix_ which tormented\nthe brother giants; but the Strigla has long ceased to be a real bird,\nand (apart from the confusion with a Lamia or Gello) is always a witch.\n\nThe condition of the belief in the eighth century is noticed by John of\nDamascus[481]. \u2018There are some of the more ignorant who say that there\nare women known as Striges (\u03a3\u03c4\u03c1\u1fe6\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03b9), otherwise called Geloudes. They\nallege that these are to be seen at night passing through the air, and\nthat when they happen to come to a house they find no obstacle in doors\nand bolts, but though the doors are securely locked make their way in\nand throttle infants. Others say that the Strix devours the liver and\nall the internal organs of the children, and so sets a short limit to\ntheir lives. And they stoutly declare, some that they have seen, and\nothers that they have heard, the Strix entering houses, though the\ndoors were locked, either in bodily form or as a spirit only.\u2019\n\nAgain in the eleventh century Michael Psellus noticed the same\nsuperstition, though as we have seen his language suggests some\nconfusion of Striges with Gelloudes. But he is really describing the\nfaculty of the former to assume the shape of birds when he says, \u2018The\nsuperstition obtaining nowadays invests old women with this power. It\nprovides them with wings in their extreme age, and represents them as\nsettling[482] unseen upon infants, whom, it is alleged, they suck until\nthey exhaust all the humours in them\u2019[483].\n\nLeo Allatius, by whom this passage is cited, produces both from his\nown experience and from the testimony of others several instances of\nsuch occurrences, and mentions also the various precautions taken\nagainst them. These include all-night watches, lamps suspended before\nthe pictures of patron-saints, amulets of garlic or of coral, and\nthe smearing of oil from some saint\u2019s lamp on the face of the child\nor invalid. It will suffice however to quote his general description\nof the Striges according to the beliefs of the seventeenth century.\nStriges (\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2), he tells us in effect, are old women whom poverty\nand misery drive to contract an alliance with the devil for all evil\npurposes; men are little molested by them, but women and still more\ncommonly children, being a weaker and easier prey, suffer much from\nthem, their breath alone[484] being so pernicious as to cause insanity\nor even death. They are especially addicted to attacking new-born\nbabes, sucking out their blood and leaving them dead, or so polluting\nthem by their touch that what life remains to them is never free from\nsickness.\n\nIt will have been noticed in this last account of the Striges, that the\nrange of their activity is somewhat enlarged, so that women as well\nas children fall victims to them. At the present day, though they are\nbelieved to prey chiefly upon infants, even grown men are not immune,\nas witness a story[485] from Messenia.\n\nOnce upon a time a man was passing the night at the house of a friend\nwhose household consisted of his wife and mother-in-law. About midnight\nsome noise awakened him, and listening intently he made out the voices\nof the two women conversing together. What he heard terrified him, for\nthey were planning to eat himself or his host, whichever proved the\nfatter. At once he perceived that his friend\u2019s wife and mother-in-law\nwere Striges, and knowing that there was no other means of escaping the\ndanger that was threatening him, he determined to try to save himself\nby guile. The Striges advanced towards the sleeping men and took hold\nof their guest\u2019s foot to see if it was heavy, and consequently fat and\ngood for eating; he however, understanding their purpose, raised his\nfoot of his own accord as they took it in their hands and weighed it,\nso that it felt to them as light as a feather, and they let it drop\nagain disappointed. Then they took hold of the foot of the other man\nwho was sleeping, and naturally found it very heavy. Delighted at the\nresult of their investigation, they ripped open the wretched man\u2019s\nbreast, pulled out his liver and other parts, and threw them among the\nhot ashes on the hearth to cook. Then noticing that they had no wine,\nthey flew to the wine-shop, took what they wanted and returned. But\nin the interval the guest got up, collected the flesh that was being\ncooked, stowed it away in his pouch, and put in its place on the hearth\nsome animal\u2019s dung. The Striges however ate up greedily what was on\nthe hearth, complaining only that it was somewhat over-done. The next\nday the two friends rose and left the house; the victim of the previous\nnight was very pale, but he did not bear the slightest wound or scar\non his breast. He remarked to his companion that he felt excessively\nhungry, and the other gave him what had been cooked during the night,\nwhich he ate and found exceedingly invigorating; the blood mounted to\nhis cheeks and he was perfectly sound again. Thereupon his friend told\nhim what had happened during the night, and they went together and slew\nthe Striges.\n\nThis story exhibits all the essential qualities of Striges. The pair\nof them are women, and one at least, the mother-in-law, is old; they\nchoose the night for their depredations; they can assume the form of\nbirds, for \u2018they flew,\u2019 it is said, to the wine-shop; and their taste\nfor human flesh is the _motif_ of the story.\n\nIt must however be acknowledged that as the area of the Striges\u2019\nactivities has become somewhat extended, so also has the ancient\nlimitation of the term to old women become locally somewhat relaxed. In\nmany parts of Greece a belief is held that certain infants are liable\nto a form of lycanthropy; and female infants so disposed are sometimes\ncalled Striges. A story from Tenos[486], narrated in several versions,\nconcerns an infant princess who was a Strigla. Every day one of the\nking\u2019s horses was found to have been killed and devoured in the night.\nThe three princes, her brothers, therefore kept watch in turn; and it\nfell to the fortune of the youngest of them, owing to his courage and\nskill, to detect the malefactor. About midnight he heard a noise, and\nfired into the middle of a cloud that seemed to hang over the horses,\nthereby so wounding his sister that the mark observed on her next day\nbetrayed her nightly doings. Not daring however to accuse her to his\nfather, he fled from home with his mother to a place of safety, while\nthe girl remained undisturbed in her voracity and consumed one by one\nall the people of the town.\n\nBut in other places where the same belief prevails, as we shall see\nlater, these _enfants terribles_, who may be of either sex, are called\nnot Striges but by some such name as \u2018callicantzaros,\u2019 \u2018vrykolakas,\u2019\nor \u2018gorgon\u2019; and this variety of names is in itself a proof that, while\nthe idea of infant cannibals is widespread, no exact verbal equivalent\nnow exists, and each of the several names used is only requisitioned to\nsupply the deficiency. A child can indeed enjoy the title of Strigla by\ncourtesy; only an old woman can possess it of right.\n\nThus the old Graeco-Roman fear of Striges still remains little changed.\nThe Church has repeatedly forbidden belief in them[487]; legislation\nhas prohibited in times past the killing of them[488]. But the link of\nsuperstition between the past and the present is still unbroken; and\nwitch-burning is an idea which in any secluded corner of Greece might\nstill be put into effect[489].\n\n\n\u00a7 12. GORGONS.\n\nThe modern conception of the Gorgon (\u1f21 \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1) or Gorgons\n(\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2)--for popular belief seems to vary locally between\nrecognising one or more such beings--is extremely complex. Of my own\nknowledge I can unfortunately contribute nothing new to what has been\npublished by others concerning them; for though I have several times\nheard Gorgons mentioned, and always on further enquiry found them to\nbe terrible demons who dwell in the sea, it has so chanced that I have\nbeen unable to get any more explicit information on the subject. The\npresent section is therefore, so far as the facts are concerned, a\ncompilation from the researches of others, especially of Prof. Polites\nof Athens University.\n\nA Gorgon is represented as half woman, half fish. Rough sketches on the\nwalls of small taverns and elsewhere may often be observed, depicting\na woman with the tail of a fish, half emerging from the waves, and\nholding in one hand a ship, in the other an anchor; sometimes also\nshe is armed with a breastplate[490]. Similar designs are also to be\nseen tattooed upon the arms or breasts of men of the lower classes,\nespecially among the maritime population.\n\nThe Gorgons themselves are to be encountered in all parts of the sea;\nbut their favourite resort, especially on Saturday nights, is reputed\nto be the Black Sea, where if one of them meets a ship, grasping the\nbows with her hand she asks, \u2018Is king Alexander living?\u2019 To this the\nsailors must reply \u2018he lives and reigns,\u2019 and may add \u2018and he keeps the\nworld at peace,\u2019 or \u2018and long life to you too!\u2019; for then the awful\nand monstrous Gorgon in gladness at the tidings transforms herself\ninto a beautiful maiden and calms the waves and sings melodiously to\nher lyre. If on the contrary the sailors make the mistake of saying\nthat Alexander is dead, she either capsizes the ship with her own\nhand or by the wildness of her lamentations raises a storm from which\nthere is no escape nor shelter[491]. The mention of Alexander the\nGreat in these stories of the Gorgons, as also sometimes in connexion\nwith the Nereids, is unimportant; it is not an instance of purely\noral tradition, but has its source in the history of Alexander by\nPseudocallisthenes[492], of which there exist paraphrases in the\npopular tongue. The interest of such fables lies in the association of\nbeauty and melody as well as of horror with the Gorgons, and in the\n_r\u00f4le_ of marine deity which they play.\n\nIn general however it is upon the monstrous and terrifying aspect of\nthe Gorgons that the common-folk seize, so that the name Gorgon is\nmetaphorically applied to ill-favoured and malevolent women[493].\nThus in Rhodes it is used of any large fierce-looking virago[494]; in\nCephalonia (where also the word \u039c\u03ad\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1, Medusa, survives in the same\nsense) of any lady conspicuously ill-featured[495]. Allusion too has\nalready been made to the case where a child possessed by a mania of\nbloodthirstiness is occasionally called a Gorgon[496].\n\nBut there is another and fresh aspect of the Gorgon\u2019s nature suggested\nby the use of the word in Cythnos. There it is metaphorically applied\nto depraved women[497]; and this isolated usage is in accord with one\ndescription of the Gorgon which has come down from the middle ages.\nThis description forms part of a poem entitled \u2018The Physiologus[498]\u2019\n(written in the most debased ecclesiastical Greek and supposed to date\nfrom before the thirteenth century), which gives a fantastic account of\nthe habits of many birds and beasts among which the Gorgon is included.\n\n\u2018The Gorgon is a beast like unto a harlot; the hair of her head is\nall auburn; the ends thereof are as it were heads of snakes; and her\nbody is bare and smooth, white as a dove, and her bosom is a woman\u2019s\nwith breasts fair to behold; but the look of her face brings death;\nwhatsoever looks upon her falls down and dies. She dwells in the\nregions of the West. She knows all languages and the speech of wild\nbeasts. When she desires a mate, she calls first to the lion; for fear\nof death he draws not near to her. Again she calls the dragon, but\nneither does he go; and even so all the beasts both small and great.\nShe pipes sweetly and sings with charm beyond all; lastly she utters\nhuman voice: \u201cCome, sate fleshly desire, ye men, of my beauty, and I\nof yours.\u201d The men, knowing then their opportunity against her, lay\nsnares that she may lose her pleasure; and stand afar off, that they\nmay not see her, and raise their voice and cry and say unto her: \u201cDig\na deep pit and put thy head therein, that we may not die and may come\nwith thee.\u201d She straightway then goes and makes a great hole and puts\nher head therein and leaves her body; from the waist downward it is\nseen naked; so she remains and awaits the pains of lewdness. The man\ngoes from behind, cuts off her head, holds it face downward, and places\nit in a vessel, and if he meet dragon or lion or leopard, he shows the\nhead, and the beasts die.\u2019\n\nThese modern or mediaeval descriptions of the Gorgons, though they are\nby no means consistent one with another, offer four main aspects in\nwhich the modern Gorgon may be compared with the creatures of ancient\nmythology. Her face is terrible either in its surpassing loveliness or\nin its overwhelming hideousness. She possesses the gift of entrancing\nmelody. She is voluptuous. She dwells in the sea.\n\nThe first aspect may be derived directly from the ancient conception\nof the Gorgons. The word \u0393\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03ce itself is a name formed from the\nadjective \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03c2 and means simply \u2018fierce\u2019 or \u2018terrible\u2019 in look,\nwithout implying anything of beauty or the opposite; while of Medusa,\nthe Gorgon _par excellence_, tradition relates that once she was a\nbeautiful maiden beloved of Poseidon, and that it was only through the\nwrath of Athena that her hair was changed into writhing snakes and\nher loveliness lost in horror. Moreover in ancient works of art the\nrepresentation of the Gorgon\u2019s head varies from a type of cruel beauty\nto a grinning mask. But it is also possible that the idea of their\nbeauty is due to a confusion of Gorgons with Sirens, from whom, as we\nshall see, certain traits have certainly been borrowed.\n\nThese traits are the two next aspects of the modern Gorgons which\nwe have to consider, the sweetness of their singing and their\nvoluptuousness. These were the essential qualities of the Sirens, and\nhave undoubtedly been transferred to the Gorgons no less than to the\nLamia of the Sea[499].\n\nPossibly also from the same source comes the mixed shape, half woman\nand half fish, in which the Gorgon is now pourtrayed. The Sirens were\nindeed originally terrestrial, dwelling in a meadow near the sea, yet\nnot venturing in the deep themselves, but luring men to shipwreck on\nthe coast by the spell of their song; and an echo perhaps of this\nconception, though the Sirens themselves are no longer known, lives on\nin a folk-song which pictures the enchantment of a maiden\u2019s love-song\nwafted to seafarers\u2019 ears from off the shore: \u2018Thereby a ship was\npassing with sails outspread. Sailors that hearken to that voice and\nlook upon such beauty, forget their sails and forsake their oars; they\ncannot voyage any more; they know not how to set sail[500].\u2019 But by the\nsixth century[501] the traditional habitat of the Sirens had changed.\n\u2018The Sirens,\u2019 says an anonymous work on monsters and great beasts,\n\u2018are mermaids, who by their exceeding beauty and winning song ensnare\nmariners; from the head to the navel they are of human and maidenly\nform, but they have the scaly tails of fishes[502].\u2019 This description\nestablishes an unquestionable connexion between the Sirens and the\nmodern Gorgons.\n\nBut the fourth aspect of the Gorgons on which I have to touch, their\nconnexion with the sea, is not, I think, to be explained as another\nloan from the Sirens. On the contrary the Gorgons were it would seem\ndeities of the sea, when the Sirens were still dwellers upon the shore;\nand it was their originally marine character which enabled them to\nabsorb the qualities once attributed to the Sirens. Thus according\nto Hesiod[503] the three Gorgons were daughters of the sea-deities\nPhorcys and Ceto, and their home was at the western bound of Ocean.\nFurther one of their number, Medusa, was loved by the sea-god Poseidon,\nand gave birth both to the horse Pegasus whose name may be a derivative\nof \u03c0\u03ae\u03b3\u03b7, \u2018water-spring,\u2019 and whose resort was certainly the fountain\nof Pirene[504], and also to Chrysaor whose bride was \u2018Callirrhoe,\ndaughter of far-famed Ocean.\u2019 Whether this mythological problem is\ncapable of solution in terms of natural phenomena[505] does not here\nconcern us; but it is a straightforward and necessary inference from\nthese genealogical data, that an early and intimate connexion existed\nbetween the Gorgons and the sea. And here art comes to the support of\nliterature. In the National Museum of Athens are two vases of about\nthe sixth century, depicting Gorgons in the company of dolphins. The\nfirst, an early Attic _amphora_[506] represents the three Gorgons, of\nwhom Medusa appears headless, surrounded by a considerable number of\nthem. The second, a _kylex_[507] with offset lip of the _Kleinmeister_\ntype, pourtrays a single Gorgon with a dolphin on either side. These\nartistic presentments furnish the strongest possible corroboration of\nHesiodic lore, and justify the assertion that from the earliest times\nthe Gorgons were deities of the sea. It was clearly then in virtue of\ntheir own marine character that they were able later to usurp also the\nplace of the Sirens.\n\nBut the Sirens are not the only ancient beings who have contributed\nto the formation of the popular conception of modern Gorgons. In one\nstory[508] the personality of Scylla is unmistakeable beneath the\ndisguise of name. This fusion is the more natural in that Scylla was\nfrom the beginning[509] a monster of the sea, whose form, according\nto Vergil[510], terminated like that of latter-day Gorgons in a fish\u2019s\ntail; a monster too fully as terrible in her own way as any Gorgon. The\nfollowing extract from the story contains all that is pertinent.\n\n\u2018So the lad departed and tramped on for twenty hours. Then he came to\na village by the sea, and saw some men busy lading a boat with oil,\nand they were carrying on board each one a barrel. When he drew near\nto them, he said, \u201cCan you carry but one barrel at a time, my good\nfellows? See how many I will carry.\u201d So saying, he took a barrel on\neach shoulder, and placed them in the boat. Then said the captain to\nhim, \u201cThank you, my lad\u201d (for he was afraid of him), \u201ccome and have\nsome food.\u201d \u201cNo, thank you, captain,\u201d he replied, \u201cI do not want any.\nBut when you are passing yonder straits, please take me along with\nyou.\u201d The captain was delighted to do so, for in the sea at that place\nthere was a Gorgon, and from every boat that passed she took one man\nas toll and devoured him, or else swamped the whole boat. So they set\nout, and as they were going the captain said to the lad, \u201cTake a turn\nat the tiller, my boy, that we may go and sleep, for we are tired.\u201d\nAccordingly they went below--to sleep, so they pretended--and the\nlad remained at the helm. Suddenly the boat stopped. He was looking\nabout on each side when he heard a voice behind him. He turned at\nonce and saw a beautiful woman with golden hair, who said to him,\n\u201cGive me my tribute.\u201d \u201cWhat tribute?\u201d replied the lad. \u201cThe man whom\nI devour from each boat that passes.\u201d \u201cGive me your hand,\u201d said the\nlad to her. Straightway without demur she gave it to him, and tried to\npull him down into the sea. At this the lad grew angry. \u201cCome up, you\nshe-devil, come up here,\u201d he cried, and dashed her upon the deck. Then\nhe belaboured her soundly, and said to her: \u201cSwear to me that you will\nnever molest man again, or I will not let you go.\u201d \u201cI swear,\u201d she said,\n\u201cby my mother the sea and by my father Alexander, that I will molest\nnone.\u201d Then he threw her back into the sea.\u2019\n\nApart from the description of the Gorgon in this story, as in others,\nas a \u2018beautiful woman with golden hair,\u2019 the tradition which has\ncontributed chiefly to the invention of the episode is the ancient\nmyth of Scylla and, we may perhaps add, of Charybdis; for here too the\nstraits are the scene of alternative horrors, either the devouring of\none man out of the crew or the sinking of the whole craft.\n\nBut in spite of the fusion of both Scylla and the Sirens with the\nGorgons in the crucible of popular imagination, analysis of the complex\nmodern conception still reveals two elements in the Gorgons\u2019 nature\nwhich vindicate their claim to their ancient name, their association\nwith the sea and the terror that they inspire.\n\n\n\u00a7 13. THE CENTAURS.\n\n \u1f08\u039d\u0386\u0393\u039a\u0397 \u039c\u0395\u03a4\u1fba \u03a4\u039f\u03a5\u0342\u03a4\u039f \u03a4\u1ff8 \u03a4\u03a9\u0342\u039d \u1f39\u03a0\u03a0\u039f\u039a\u0395\u039d\u03a4\u0391\u038e\u03a1\u03a9\u039d \u0395\u1f3e\u0394\u039f\u03a3 \u1f18\u03a0\u0391\u039d\u039f\u03a1\u0398\u039f\u03a5\u0342\u03a3\u0398\u0391\u0399.\n\n  PLATO, _Phaedrus_, 7.\n\nThe Callic\u00e1ntzari (\u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9) are the most monstrous of all the\ncreatures of the popular imagination, and none are better known to the\nGreek-speaking world at large; for even where educated men have ceased\nto believe in them, they still figure in the stories told and retold to\nchildren with each recurring New Year\u2019s Day; and, among the peasants,\nmany reach manhood or womanhood without outgrowing their early fears of\nthem.\n\nThe name Callicantzaros itself appears in many dialectic and widely\ndiffering forms, and there are also a multitude of local by-names. Of\nthe former I shall treat later in discussing the origin of the word\nCallicantzaros, while the by-names, being for the most part descriptive\nof the appearance or qualities of these monsters, will be mentioned as\noccasion requires. But even where other local names are in common use,\nsome form of the word Callicantzaros is almost always employed as well,\nor at least is understood.\n\nAs in the nomenclature, so too in the description of the Callicantzari,\none locality differs very widely from another. And this cannot be\nmerely a result of the wide distribution of the belief in them;\nfor the Nereids certainly are equally widely known, and yet their\nappearance and habits are, broadly speaking, everywhere the same.\nThe extraordinary divergences and even contradictions in different\naccounts of the Callicantzari demand some other explanation than that\nof casual variation. That explanation, as I shall show later, lies in\ntheir identity with the ancient Centaurs. But before I discuss their\norigin, I must attempt as general a description of their appearance and\nhabits as the vast variation of local traditions permits. In revising\nthis description I have had the advantage of consulting Prof. Polites\u2019\nnew work on the traditions of modern Greece[511], from which I have\nlearnt some new facts, and have obtained on several points confirmation\nfrom a new source of what I had myself heard or surmised. I take this\nopportunity of gratefully acknowledging my indebtedness to him.\n\nIn describing the Callicantzari, although the diversities of their\noutward form are almost endless, two main classes of them must be\ndistinguished, because corresponding with that physical division there\nis also a marked difference in character. The two classes differ\nphysically in stature, and, while all Callicantzari are essentially\nmischievous in character, the mischief wrought by the larger sort is\noften of a malicious and even deadly order, while the smaller sort are\nmore frolicsome and harmless in their tricks.\n\nThe larger kind vary from the size of a man to that of a gigantic\nmonster whose loins are on a level with the chimneypots. They are\nusually black in colour, and covered with a coat of shaggy hair, but\na bald variety is also sometimes mentioned. Their heads and also\ntheir sexual organs are out of all proportion to the rest of their\nbodies. Their faces are black; their eyes glare red; they have the\nears of goats or asses; from their huge mouths blood-red tongues loll\nout, flanked by ferocious tusks. Their bodies are in general very\nlean, so that in some districts the word Callicantzaros is applied\nmetaphorically to a very lean man[512]; but a shorter and thickset\nvariety also occurs. They have the arms and hands of monkeys, and their\nnails are as long again as their fingers and curved like the talons\nof a vulture. They are sometimes furnished with long thin tails. They\nhave the legs of a goat or an ass, or sometimes one human leg and\none of bestial form; or again both legs are of human shape, but the\nfoot so distorted that the toes come where the heel should be[513].\nHence it is not surprising that they are often lame, but even so they\nare swift of foot and terrible in strength. \u2018They devour their road\nat the pace of Pegasus,\u2019 wrote Leo Allatius[514]; and at the present\nday several by-names bear witness to their speed. In Samos they are\ncalled \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03b4\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[515], \u2018those who make good speed\u2019; in Cyprus\n\u03a0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9[516], \u2018the wanderers\u2019; in Athens they have the humorous\ntitle \u039a\u03c9\u03bb\u03bf\u03b2\u03b5\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, formed from the proverbial expression \u03b2\u03b5\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\n\u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u1ff6\u03bb\u03bf \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018he has needles in his buttocks,\u2019 said of any one\nwho cannot sit still, but is always on the move[517]. Their strength\nalso has earned them one by-name, reported from Kardam\u00fdle in Maina, \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03ac, said to be formed from the Turkish _tselik_ (\u2018iron\u2019), in\nthe sense of \u2018strong as iron[518].\u2019\n\nAll or any of the features which I have mentioned may be found in the\nperson of a single Callicantzaros; but it must be allowed also that no\none of them is essential. For sometimes the Callicantzaros appears in\nordinary human form without so much as a cloven hoof to distinguish\nhim from ordinary mankind, or again completely in animal shape. In one\nplace they are described as \u1f00\u03b3\u03c1\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9[519], savages but human in\nappearance, while in another they are \u1f04\u03b3\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1[520], \u2018savage\nquadrupeds.\u2019\n\nYet in general the Callicantzari are neither wholly anthropomorphic nor\nwholly theriomorphic, but a blend of the two. In a story of some men\nat Athens who dressed themselves up as Callicantzari, it is said that\nthey blacked their faces and covered themselves with feathers[521].\nAgain two grotesque and bestial clay statuettes from the Cabirium\nnear Thebes and now in the National Museum at Athens, were identified\nby peasants as Callicantzari[522]; an identification I have also met\nwith when questioning peasants about similar objects in local museums;\nin one case it was a Satyr and in another a Centaur which my guide\nidentified as a Callicantzaros. On the whole I should say that the\ngoat contributes more than any other animal to the popular conception\nof these monsters. Besides having the legs and the ears of goats, as\nwas noted above, they are sometimes said to have their horns also;\nand in Chios their resemblance to goats is so clearly recognised that\nin one village they have earned the by-name of \u039a\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[523], which\nby formation should mean \u2018men who have to do with goats (\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03af\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1),\u2019\nthough it has apparently been appropriated to the designation of beings\nwho are in form half goat and half man. There are however districts, as\nwe shall see later, in which some other animal than the goat forms the\npredominant element in the monstrous _ensemble_.\n\nThe smaller sort of Callicantzari is rarer than the large, but their\ndistribution is at any rate wide. They are the predominant type in\nnorth-west Arcadia, in the district about Mount Parnassus, and at\nOeno\u00eb[524] on the southern shore of the Black Sea. They are most often\nhuman in shape, but are mere pigmies, no taller than a child of five\nor six. They are usually black, like the larger sort, but are smooth\nand hairless. They are very commonly deformed, and in this respect the\nstrange beasts on which they ride are like them. At Arachova[525],\non the slopes of Parnassus, every one of them is said to have some\nphysical defect. Some are lame; others squint; others have only one\neye; others have their noses or mouths, hands or feet set all askew;\nand as a cavalcade of them passes by night through the village, one is\nto be seen mounted on a cock and his long thin legs trail on the ground\nas he rides; another has a horse no bigger than a small dog; another,\nthe tiniest of them all, is perched on an enormous donkey\u2019s back, and\nwhen he falls off cannot mount again; and others again ride strange\nunknown beasts, lame, one-eyed, or one-eared like their masters.\n\nCallicantzari of this type are usually harmless to men. They play\nindeed the same boisterous pranks as their larger brethren, but perhaps\nowing to their insignificant size are an object of merriment rather\nthan of fear. But, as I shall show later, there is reason to believe\nthat they are not the original type of Callicantzari. It is only by a\ncasual development of the superstition, that these grotesque hobgoblins\nhave been locally substituted for the grim and gaunt monsters feared\nelsewhere. They form, as it were, a modern and expurgated edition of\nthe larger sort of Callicantzari, to whom I now return.\n\nThe Callicantzari appear only during the \u03b4\u03c9\u03b4\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1\u03ae\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd or \u2018period of\ntwelve days\u2019 between Christmas and Epiphany[526]. The rest of the year\nthey live in the lower world, and occupy themselves in trying to gnaw\nthrough or cut down the great tree (or in other accounts the one or\nmore columns) on which the world rests. Each Christmas they have nearly\ncompleted their task, when the time comes for their appearance in the\nupper world, and during their twelve days\u2019 absence, the supports of the\nworld are made whole again.\n\nEven during their short visit to this world, they do not appear in the\ndaytime. From dawn till sunset they hide themselves in dark and dank\nplaces--in caves or beneath mills--and there feed on such food as they\ncan collect, worms, snakes, frogs, tortoises, and other unclean things.\nBut at night they issue forth and run wildly to and fro, rending and\ncrushing those who cross their path. Destruction and waste, greed and\nlust mark their course. Now they break into some lonely mill, terrify\nand coerce the miller into showing them his store, bake for themselves\ncakes thereof, befoul with urine all that they cannot use, and are\ngone again. Now they pass through some hamlet, and woe to that house\nwhich is not prepared against their coming. By chimney and door alike\nthey swarm in, and make havoc of the home; in sheer wanton mischief\nthey overturn and break all the furniture, devour the Christmas pork,\nbefoul all the water and wine and food which remains, and leave the\noccupants half dead with fright or violence. Now it is a wine shop that\nthey enter, bind the publican to his chair, gag him with dung, break\nopen each cask in turn, drink their fill, and leave the wine running.\nNow they light upon some belated wayfarer, and make sport of him as\ntheir fancy leads them. Sometimes his fate is only to dance all night\nwith the Callicantzari and to be let go at cockcrow unscathed; for\nthese monsters despite their uncouth shape delight in dancing, and to\nthat end often seek the company of the Nereids; but more often men are\nsorely torn and battered before they escape, and women are forcibly\ncarried off to be the monsters\u2019 wives. In some accounts they even make\na meal of their human prey.\n\nThe fact that the activities of the Callicantzari are always limited to\nthe night-time has given them a special claim to the name \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 or\n\u039d\u03c5\u03c7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2[527], formed from \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03c9\u03c1\u03b1, \u2018the hour before cockcrow,\u2019\nfor then it is that their excesses and depredations have reached\ntheir zenith; but the word cannot correctly be called a by-name of\nthe Callicantzari, for it is also, if more rarely, applied to other\nnocturnal visitants.\n\nThe only redeeming qualities in these creatures\u2019 characters, from the\npoint of view of men who fall into their clutches, are their stupidity\nand their quarrelsomeness. They have indeed a chieftain who sometimes\ntries to marshal and to discipline them, and who is at least wise\nenough to warn them when the hour of their departure draws near. But\nin general \u2018the Great Callicantzaros[528],\u2019 as he is called, or \u2018the\nlame demon[529],\u2019 is too like the rest of them to be of much avail; and\nindeed his place is not at the head of the riotous mob where he might\ncontrol them, but he limps along, a grotesque and usually ithyphallic\nfigure, in the rear. Thus in the popular stories it often happens that\neither the Callicantzari go on quarrelling about the treatment of some\nman or the possession of some woman whom they have captured, or else\ntheir prisoner is shrewd enough to keep them amused, until cock-crow\nbrings release. For at that sound (or, to be more precise, at the\ncrowing of the third cock, who is black and more potent to scare away\ndemons than the white and red cocks who precede him[530]) they vanish\naway, like all terrors of the night in ancient[531] as well as modern\ntimes, to their dark lairs.\n\nThe tales told by the peasants about the Callicantzari are extremely\nnumerous, though there is a certain sameness about the main themes.\nThree types of story however are deserving of notice, to illustrate\nthe character of the Callicantzari and the ways in which they may be\noutwitted and eluded.\n\nThe first type may be represented by a tale told to me in Scyros in\nexplanation of the name of a cave some half-hour distant from the town.\nBoth the cave itself and that part of the path which lies just below it\nare popularly called \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9, \u2018the Callicantzaros\u2019\nfoot.\u2019 My enquiries concerning the name elicited the following story,\nwhich seems incidentally to explain how the Great Callicantzaros came\nto be lame.\n\n\u2018Once upon the eve of Epiphany a man of Scyros was returning home\nfrom a mill late at night, driving his mule before him laden with two\nsacks of meal. When he had gone about half-way, he saw before him\nsome Callicantzari in his path. Realising his danger, he at once got\nupon his mule and laid himself flat between the two sacks and covered\nhimself up with a rug, so as to look like another sack of meal. Soon\nthe Callicantzari were about his mule, and he held his breath and heard\nthem saying, \u201cHere is a pack on this side and a pack on that side, and\nthe top-load in the middle, but where is the man?\u201d So they ran back to\nthe mill thinking that he had loitered behind; but they could not find\nhim and came back after the mule, and looked again, and said, \u201cHere is\na pack on this side and a pack on that side, and the top-load in the\nmiddle, but where is the man?\u201d So they ran on in front fearing that\nhe had hasted on home before his mule. But when they could not find\nhim, they returned again, and said as before, and went back a second\ntime towards the mill. And thus it happened many times. Now while\nthey were running to and fro, the mule was nearing home, and it so\nhappened that when the beast stopped at the door of the man\u2019s house,\nthe Callicantzari were close on his track. The man therefore called\nquickly to his wife and she opened the door and he entered in safety,\nbut the mule was left standing without. Then the Callicantzari saw how\nhe had tricked them, and they knocked at the door in great anger. So\nthe woman, fearing lest they would break in by force, promised to open\nto them on condition that they should first count for her the holes in\nher sieve. To this they agreed, and she let it down to them by a cord\nfrom a window. Straightway they set to work to count, and counted round\nand round the outermost circle and never got nearer to the middle; nor\ncould they discover how this came to pass, but only counted more and\nmore hurriedly, without advancing at all. Meanwhile dawn was breaking,\nand so soon as the neighbours perceived the Callicantzari, they\nhurried off to the priests and told them. The priests immediately set\nout with censers and sprinkling-vessels in their hands, to chase the\nCallicantzari away. Right through the town the monsters fled, spreading\nhavoc in their path and hotly pursued by the priests. At last when they\nwere clear of the town, one Callicantzaros began to lag behind, and by\na great exertion the foremost priest came up to him and struck him on\nthe hinder foot with his sprinkling vessel. At once the foot fell off,\nbut the Callicantzaros fled away maimed though he was. And thus the\nspot came to be known as \u201cthe Callicantzaros\u2019 foot.\u201d\u2019\n\nThis story consists of three episodes. The first, in which the driver\nof the mule outwits the Callicantzari by lying flat on the animal\u2019s\nback and making himself look like a sack of meal, occurs time after\ntime in the popular tales with hardly any variation; indeed it often\nforms in itself the _motif_ of a whole story, in which, as soon as\nthe man reaches his home, the cock crows and the Callicantzari flee.\nThe second episode in which the wife effects some delay by bargaining\nwith the Callicantzari that they shall count the holes in a sieve, is\nalso fairly common, but the difficulty which the monsters find, in\nevery other version of which I know, is that they dare not pronounce\nthe word \u2018three,\u2019 and so go on counting \u2018one, two,\u2019 \u2018one, two\u2019 till\ncock-crow[532]. The third episode in which the priests chase away the\nCallicantzari is not often found in current stories, but the belief\nthat the \u1f01\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 or \u2018hallowing\u2019 which takes place on the morning of\nEpiphany is the signal for the final departure of the Callicantzari\nis firmly held throughout Greece. This ceremony consists primarily in\n\u2018blessing the waters\u2019--whether of the sea, of rivers, of village-wells,\nor, as at Athens, of the reservoir--by carrying a cross in procession\nto the appointed place and throwing it in; but in many districts also\nthe priests afterwards fill vessels with the blest waters, and with\nthese and their censers make a round of the village, sprinkling and\npurifying the people and their houses and cornfields and vineyards.\nThe fear which the Callicantzari feel of this purification is embodied\nin some rough lines which they are supposed to chant as they disappear\nat Twelfth-night:\n\n    \u03c6\u03cd\u03b3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c6\u03cd\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5,\n    \u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c6\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u2019 \u1f41 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c2\n    \u03bc\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f01\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f74 \u03b2\u03c1\u03b5\u03c7\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5,\n    \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1fe5\u03ad\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b5[533].\n\n    Quick, begone! we must begone,\n    Here comes the pot-bellied priest,\n    With his censer in his hand\n    And his sprinkling-vessel too;\n    He has purified the streams\n    And he has polluted us.\n\nIn the actual tales however as told by the people the intervention\nof the priests is not a common episode. More often the story ends in\na rescue effected by neighbours armed with firebrands, of which the\nCallicantzari go in mortal terror, or simply with the crowing of the\nblack cock.\n\nThe second type of story deals with the adventures of a girl sent by\nher wicked stepmother to a mill during the dangerous Twelve Days,\nnominally to get some corn ground, but really in the hope that she\nwill fall a prey to the Callicantzari. Having arrived at the mill the\ngirl calls in vain to the miller to come and help unload her mule, and\nentering in search of him finds him bound to his chair or dead with\nfright and the Callicantzari standing about him. They at once seize the\ngirl, and begin to quarrel which shall have her for his own. But the\ngirl keeps her wits, and says that she will be the wife of the one who\nbrings her the best bridal array. So they disperse in search of fine\nraiment and jewels. Meanwhile she sets to work to grind the corn, and\neach time a Callicantzaros returns with presents, she sends him on a\nfresh errand for something more. Finally the corn is all ground, and\nshe quickly loads the mule with two sacks, one on either side, clothes\nherself in the gold and jewels which the Callicantzari have brought,\nmounts the mule and lies flat on the saddle covered over with a sack,\nand eluding the Callicantzari who pursue her, like the muleteer in the\nprevious story, reaches home in safety.\n\nThe wicked stepmother seeing that her plans have miscarried and that\nher stepdaughter is now rich while her own daughter is poor, determines\nto send the latter the next evening to the mill. She too finds the\nmill occupied by the Callicantzari, but not being so shrewd as her\nhalf-sister either falls a victim to the lust of the monsters, or is\nkilled and eaten by them, or, in one version[534], is stripped of her\nown clothes, dressed in the skin of her mule which the Callicantzari\nhave killed and flayed, and sent home with a necklace of the mule\u2019s\nentrails about her neck.\n\nThe third type of story, one which is known all over Greece, introduces\nus to the domestic circle of a Callicantzaros. A midwife is roused\none night during the Twelve Days by a furious rapping at her door,\nand, imagining that the call is urgent, slips on her clothes in haste\nwithout enquiring who it is that needs her services, and stepping out\nof her door finds herself face to face either with an unmistakeable\nCallicantzaros who seizes her and carries her off, or else with a man\nunknown to her who subsequently proves to be a Callicantzaros[535].\nOn their way to his home he bids her see to it that the child with\nwhich his wife is about to present him be male; in that case he will\nreward her handsomely; but if a female child be born, he will devour\nthe midwife. Arrived at the cave or house where the Callicantzaros\ndwells, the midwife goes about her task, and the Callicantzaros\u2019\nwife is soon delivered of a child; but to the midwife\u2019s horror it is\nfemale. Her wits however do not desert her, and she quickly devises a\nscheme for her escape. Taking a candle, she warms it and fashions from\nthe wax a model of the male organs and fastens it to the child. Then\ncalling the Callicantzaros, she tells him that a fine male child is\nborn and holds up the infant for him to see. Thereat he is content and\nbids her swaddle it. This done, she craves leave to go home, and the\nCallicantzaros, true to his word, rewards her with a sack of gold and\nlets her go.\n\nThe conclusion of the story varies. In some versions, the fraud is\ndiscovered before the midwife reaches her home, the Callicantzaros\ncurses the gold which he has given her, and when she opens her sack she\nfinds nothing but ashes. In others, she reaches home in safety with\nthe gold and by magic means breaks the power of the Callicantzaros\nover his gift; and when he arrives at her door in hot pursuit, she has\nalready taken all precautions against his entrance and lies secure and\nsilent within.\n\nThe wife of the Callicantzaros here mentioned is in some stories\npictured as being of the same monstrous species as himself, in others\nas an ordinary woman whom he has seized and carried off. But, apart\nfrom these stories in which she is a necessary _persona dramatis_,\nshe has no hold upon the popular imagination. A feminine word,\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03bd\u03b1 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6, has been formed in this case just\nas the word \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u0390\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2[536] has been formed as masculine of Nereid\n(\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1), and female Callicantzari are as rare and local as male\nNereids. Their existence is assumed only as complementary to that of\ntheir mates.\n\nSecurity from the Callicantzari is sought by many methods, some of\nthem Christian in character, others magical or pagan. Foremost among\nChristian precautions is the custom of marking a cross in black upon\nthe house-door on Christmas Eve; and the same emblem is sometimes\npainted upon the various jars and vessels in which food is kept to\nensure them against befouling by the Callicantzari, and even upon the\nforehead of infants, especially if they are unbaptised, to prevent them\nfrom being stolen or strangled[537] by the monsters. If in spite of\nthese precautions the inmates of any house are troubled by them, the\nburning of incense is accounted an effectual safeguard. For out-door\nuse, if a man is unfortunate enough to encounter Callicantzari, an\ninvocation of the Trinity or the recitation of three Paternosters is\nrecommended.\n\nBut precautions of a more pagan character are often preferred to these\nor combined with them. Ordinary prudence demands that the fire be kept\nburning through all the Twelve Days, to prevent the Callicantzari\nentering by the chimney, and the usual custom is to set one huge\nlog on end up the chimney, to go on burning for the whole period.\nIn addition to this a fire is sometimes kept burning at night close\nby the house-door. Certain herbs also, such as ground-thistle[538],\nhyssop, and asparagus[539], may be suspended at the door or the\nchimney-place, as magical charms. If even then there is reason to\nsuspect that Callicantzari are prowling round the house, the golden\nrule is to observe strict silence and, above all, not to answer any\nquestion asked from without the door; for it is commonly believed that\nthe Callicantzari, like the Nereids, can deprive of speech any who\nhave once talked with them. At the same time it is wise to make up the\nfire, throwing on either something which will crackle like salt or\nheather[540], or something which will smell strong, such as a bit of\nleather, an old shoe, wild-cherry wood[541], or ground-thistle; for\nthe stench of these is as unbearable to the Callicantzari as that of\nincense.\n\nSuch at any rate is the current explanation of the purpose of these\nmalodorous combustibles; but in view of the notorious gullibility of\nthe Callicantzari I am tempted to surmise that both the crackling and\nthe smell were originally intended to pacify them for a while with\nthe delusive hope that a share of the Christmas pork, their favourite\nfood, was being prepared for them. For certainly even now propitiatory\npresents to the Callicantzari are not unknown. At Portari\u00e1 and other\nvillages of Mount Pelion it is the custom to hang a rib or other bone\nfrom the pork inside the chimney \u2018for the Callicantzari,\u2019 but whether\nas a means of appeasement or of aversion the people seem no longer to\nknow: in Samos however the first sweetmeats made at the New Year are\nplaced in the chimney avowedly as food for the Callicantzari[542], and\nin Cyprus waffles and sausages are put in the same place as a farewell\nfeast to them on the Eve of Epiphany[543]. Moreover in earlier times\nthe custom of appeasing them with food was undoubtedly more widespread;\nfor in places where, so far as I know, the custom itself no longer\nexists, a few lines supposed to be sung by the Callicantzari on the\neve of their departure are still remembered, in which they ask for \u2018a\nlittle bit of sausage, a morsel of waffle, that the Callicantzari may\neat and depart to their own place[544].\u2019\n\nBut propitiation of the Callicantzari, in spite of this evidence of\nofferings made to them, is certainly not now so much in vogue as\nprecautions against them; and it is perhaps simpler to suppose that\nthe choice of crackling or odorous fuel was originally prompted by the\nintention of conveying to the Callicantzari a plain warning that the\nfire within the house was burning briskly; for apart from the Christian\nmeans of defence--crosses, incense, invocations and the general\npurification on the morning of Epiphany--it may be said that the one\nthing which they really fear is fire. Everywhere it is held that so\nlong as a good fire is kept burning on the hearth the Callicantzari\ncannot gain access to the house by their favourite entrance; and that\nthe utmost they will venture is to vent their urine down the chimney\nin the hope of extinguishing the fire. For this reason the wood-ashes\nfrom the hearth, which are generally stored up and used in the washing\nof clothes, are during the Twelve Days left untouched, and after the\npurification at Epiphany are carried out of the house; but in some\ndistricts[545], though the ashes are not thought suitable for ordinary\nuse, they are not thrown away as worthless impurities, but, owing I\nsuppose to their contact with supernatural beings, are held to be\nendowed with magically fertilising properties and are sprinkled over\nthe very same fields and gardens which the priests have sprinkled with\nholy water. Again there are not a few stories current[546] in which\na Callicantzaros, attracted to some house at Christmas-tide by the\nsmell of roasting pork, has been put to rout by having the hot joint\nor the spit on which it was turning thrust in his face. In one version\nalso of the song which the Callicantzari are supposed to sing as they\ndepart, \u2018the pot-bellied priest with censer and sprinkling-vessel\u2019 is\naccompanied by his wife carrying hot water to scald them[547]. In other\nstories again the rescue of a man from the clutches of Callicantzari is\neffected by his neighbours with fire-brands as their only weapons; and\nwhere such help cannot be obtained, a man may sometimes free himself\nmerely by ejaculating \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1, \u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1, \u03b4\u03b1\u03c5\u03bb\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1, \u2018sticks, logs,\nand brands ablaze!\u2019 for the very thought of fire will sometimes scare\nthe monsters away.\n\nOther safeguards are also mentioned; you are recommended for instance\nto keep a black cock in the house, or you may render the Callicantzaros\nharmless by binding him with a red thread or a straw rope[548]; but the\nlatter method would in most cases be like putting salt on a bird\u2019s tail.\n\nSuch, on a general view, are the monsters whose origin I now propose\nto examine; and the first step in the investigation must be to\naccount for the extraordinary variations in shape exhibited by the\nCallicantzari in different districts.\n\nI have already observed that the Callicantzari are sometimes conceived\nto be of ordinary human form, but that more commonly there is an\nadmixture of something beast-like. Among the animals which are\nlaid under contribution, first comes the he-goat, from which the\nCallicantzari borrow ears, horns, and legs. Almost equally common is\na presentment of Callicantzari with the ears and the legs of an ass\ncombined with a body in other respects human; or again the head of an\nass, according to Pouqueville[549], may be combined with the body and\nlegs of a man. In other districts again the wolf has once been a factor\nin the conception of Callicantzari. Thus in Messenia, in Cynouria\n(a district in the east of Laconia), and in parts of Crete[550] the\nCallicantzari are called also \u039b\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, in which the first half of\nthe compound name is undoubtedly \u03bb\u03cd\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018wolf.\u2019 Similarly in some parts\nof Macedonia Callicantzari are often called simply \u2018wolves\u2019 (\u03bb\u03cd\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9),\nand both names are also applied metaphorically to any particularly\nill-favoured man[551]. Resemblances to apes are also mentioned,\nparticularly in the long, lean, hairy arms of the Callicantzari;\nand Pouqueville speaks also of their monkey-like tails[552]. Next\nfrom Phoenici\u00e1 in Epirus comes the suggestion that Callicantzari may\nresemble squirrels; for there they have the two by-names \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\nand \u03ba\u03b1\u03c8\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[553], in which it is not hard to recognise the two\nancient Greek names for the squirrel, \u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c8\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\nConcerning the local character of these I have no information; but\nit is fairly safe to surmise that they possess the power, commonly\nascribed to the smaller sort of Callicantzari, of climbing with great\ndexterity the walls and roofs of houses in order to gain access by the\nchimney. Finally in Myconos, as noted above, the Callicantzari are\ndescribed as \u2018savage four-footed things\u2019--a description which need\nnot exclude some human attributes any more than it does in the savage\nfour-footed Centaurs of ancient art, but implies it would seem at\nleast a predominance of the bestial over the human element.\n\nWhat then is the explanation of these wide divergences of type?\nThe answer is really very simple and final. The Callicantzari were\noriginally believed to possess the power, which many supernatural\nbeings share, of transforming themselves at their pleasure into\nany shape. The shapes most commonly assumed differed in different\ndistricts, and gradually, as the belief in the metamorphosis of\nCallicantzari here, there, and almost everywhere was forgotten, what\nhad once been the commonest form locally assumed by Callicantzari\nbecame in the several districts their fixed and only form.\n\nThe correctness of this explanation was first proved to me by\ninformation obtained from the best source for all manner of stories\nand traditions about the Callicantzari, the villages on Mount Pelion.\nThere I was definitely told that the Callicantzari are believed to\nhave the power of assuming any monstrous shape which they choose;\nand the accuracy of this statement is, I find, now confirmed by\ninformation obtained independently by Prof. Polites[554] from one of\nthese same villages, Portari\u00e1; he adds that there the shapes most\nfrequently affected by Callicantzari are those of women, bearded men,\nand he-goats. Further evidence of the same belief existing also in\nCyprus is adduced by the same writer. \u2018The Planetari (\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9),\u2019 so\nruns the popular tradition which he quotes from a work which I have\nbeen unable to consult, \u2018who are also called in some parts of Cyprus\nCallicantzari, come to the earth at Christmas and remain all the Twelve\nDays. They are seen by persons who are \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9[555] (i.e.,\nto give the nearest equivalent, \u2018fey\u2019). Sometimes they appear as dogs,\nsometimes as hares, sometimes as donkeys or as camels, and often as\nbobbins. Men who are \u2018fey\u2019 stumble over them, and stoop down to pick\nthem up, when suddenly the bobbin rolls along of its own accord and\nescapes them. Further on it turns into a donkey or camel and goes on\nits way. The man is deceived (by its appearance) and mounts it, and\nthe donkey grows as tall as a mountain and throws the man down from a\ngreat height[556], and he returns home half-dead, and if he does not\ndie outright, he will be an invalid all his life[557].\u2019\n\nLinguistic evidence is also forthcoming that the same belief in the\nmetamorphosis of these monsters was once held both in Epirus and in\nSamos. The by-name \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, recorded from Phoenici\u00e1, proves more\nthan the squirrel-form of Callicantzari; it implies that that shape\nis not natural but assumed. From the ancient word \u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, comes\nby natural formation an hypothetical verb \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03c9, \u2018I become a\nsquirrel,\u2019 and thence the existing substantive \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 or \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03cc\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\n(for this difference in vocalisation is negligible in modern Greek)\nmeaning \u2018that which has turned into a squirrel.\u2019 Similarly in Samos the\nby-name \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 means \u2018those that have turned into evil men.\u2019\nWhether the belief implied by these names is still alive in Epirus,\nI do not know; in Samos it has apparently died out, for the word\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 is popularly there interpreted to mean \u2018those who do\nevil to men[558]\u2019--a meaning which the formation really precludes.\n\nSince then the belief that Callicantzari possess the power of\nmetamorphosis either obtains now or has once obtained in places as far\nremoved from one another as Phoenici\u00e1 in Epirus, Mount Pelion, Samos,\nand Cyprus, it is reasonable to conclude that this quality was in\nearlier times universally attributed to them, and therewith the whole\nproblem of their multifarious presentments in different districts is at\nonce solved.\n\nThe next question which arises is this; if the various forms in\nwhich the Callicantzari are locally represented are, so to speak, so\nmany disguises assumed by them at their own will, what is the normal\nform of the Callicantzaros when he is not exercising his power of\nself-transformation? On reviewing the various shapes assumed, one fact\nstands out clearly; it is the animal attributes of the Callicantzari\nwhich are variable, while the human element in their composition\n(with a possible exception in the case of the \u2018savage quadrupeds\u2019\nof Myconos) is constant. But the variation of form results, as has\nbeen shown, from the power of transformation. Therefore the animal\ncharacteristics, which are variable, are the characteristics assumed\nat pleasure by the Callicantzari, and the constant or human element\nin their composition indicates their normal form. In other words, the\nCallicantzaros in his original and natural shape was anthropomorphic,\nas indeed he is sometimes still represented to be.\n\nAnd here too, while the various types of Callicantzari are still before\nus, it is worth while to notice, at the cost of a short digression,\na curious principle which seems to govern the representation of\nCallicantzari in those districts in which the belief in their power\nof metamorphosis has been lost. On Mount Pelion and in Cyprus the\nshapes which the Callicantzari are said to assume at will are those of\nknown and familiar objects--in the former place of women, bearded men,\nand he-goats, in the latter of dogs, hares, donkeys, and camels--but\nalways complete and single shapes whether of man or beast; on the other\nhand in the large majority of places in which the remembrance of this\npower of transformation is lost, the Callicantzari are represented in\nfanciful and abnormal shapes--hybrids as it were between men and such\nanimals as goat, ass, or ape. What appears to have happened in these\ncases is that, as the belief in the metamorphosis of Callicantzari\nwas lost from the local folklore, a sort of compensation was made by\ndepicting them arrested in the process of transformation, arrested\nhalfway in the transition from man to beast. Now there are very few\nparts of Greece in which this change in the superstition has not taken\nplace; and each island of the Greek seas, each district of the Greek\nmainland--I had almost said each village, for the folklore like the\ndialect of two villages no more than an hour\u2019s journey apart may differ\nwidely--may be fairly considered to furnish separate instances on which\na general principle can be founded. The law then which seems to me to\nhave governed the evolution of Greek folklore is this, that a being of\nsome single, normal, and known shape who has originally been believed\ncapable of transforming himself into one or more other single, normal,\nand known shapes, comes to be represented, when the belief in his power\nof transformation dies out, as a being of composite, abnormal, and\nfantastic shape, combining incongruous features of the several single,\nnormal, and known shapes.\n\nHow wide may be the application of this principle, I cannot pretend\nto determine; but obviously it may supply the solution of certain\npuzzles in ancient Greek mythology. The goddess Athene, to take\nbut one instance, is in Homer regularly described as \u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03c5\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c0\u03b9\u03c2, an\nepithet which, though interpreted by ancient artists in the sense of\n\u2018blue-eyed\u2019 or \u2018gray-eyed,\u2019 seems, in view of Athene\u2019s connexion with\nthe owl, to have meant originally \u2018owl-faced\u2019; for the sake of argument\nat any rate, without entering into the controversy on the subject, let\nme assume this; let it be granted that the goddess was once depicted as\na maiden with an owl\u2019s face. How is this hybrid form to be explained?\nIf our principle holds here, the explanation is that in a still earlier\nstage of Greek mythology the goddess Athene was wont to transform\nherself into an owl and so manifest herself to her worshippers, just as\nin early Christian tradition it is recorded that once \u2018the Holy Ghost\ndescended in a bodily shape like a dove[559].\u2019\n\nBut this digression is long enough. Later in this chapter I shall have\noccasion to return to the principle which has been formulated. At\npresent the Callicantzari are calling.\n\nThus far our investigation has shown us that the Callicantzari were\noriginally anthropomorphic, possessing indeed and exercising the power\nof transmutation into beast-form, but in their natural and normal form\ncompletely human in appearance. What therefore remains to be determined\nis whether these beings were anthropomorphic demons or simply men.\n\nOn this point there is a direct conflict of evidence at the present\nday. The very common tradition that the Callicantzari come from the\nlower world at Christmas and are driven back there by the purification\nat Epiphany; the fact that they are often mentioned under the vague\nnames \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac and \u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac which have already been discussed[560], and\nthat their leader is sometimes called \u1f41 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c3\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, \u2018the halting\ndemon\u2019; the belief that they are fond of dancing with the Nereids,\nand sometimes exercise also a power, proper to the Nereids, of taking\naway the speech of those who speak in their presence; these and other\nsuch considerations might be thought abundantly to prove that the\nCallicantzari were a species of demon.\n\nBut on the other hand there is equally abundant evidence of the\nbelief that Callicantzari are men who are seized with a kind of\nbestial madness which often effects a beast-like alteration in their\nappearance. This madness is not chronic, but recurrent with each\nreturning Christmas, and the victim of it displays for the time being\nall the savage and lustful passions of a wild animal. The mountaineers\nof South Euboea for example have acquired the reputation of being\nCallicantzari and are much feared by the dwellers on the coast.\n\nA remarkable feature in this form of the superstition is the idea that\nthe madness is congenital. Children born on Christmas-day, or according\nto some accounts on any day between Christmas and Epiphany, are deemed\nlikely to become Callicantzari. This, it is naively said, is the due\npunishment for the sin of a mother who has presumed to conceive and to\nbring forth at seasons sacred to the Mother of God; whence also the\nchildren are called \u1f11\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 or \u2018feast-stricken.\u2019 In Chios, in the\nseventeenth century, this superstition was so strong that extraordinary\nmethods of barbarism were adopted to render such children harmless.\nThey were taken, says Leo Allatius[561], to a fire which had been\nlighted in the market-place, and there the soles of their feet were\nexposed to the heat until the nails were singed and the danger of their\nattacks obviated. A modern and modified form of this treatment is to\nplace the child in an oven and to light a fire outside to frighten\nit, and then to ask the question, \u2018Bread or meat?\u2019 If the child says\n\u2018bread,\u2019 all is well; but if he says \u2018meat,\u2019 he is believed to be\npossessed by a savage craving for human flesh, and the treatment is\ncontinued till he answers \u2018bread[562].\u2019\n\nThese infant Callicantzari are particularly prone, it is said, to\nattack and kill their own brothers and sisters. Hence comes the by-name\nby which they are sometimes known, \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c6\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u2018brother-eaters,\u2019 as\nalso, according to Polites\u2019 interpretation, the name \u03ba\u03ac\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, which\nis an equivalent for Callicantzari in several islands of the Aegean\nSea. This word Polites holds to be the plural of the name Cain, and to\ndenote \u2018brother-slayers\u2019; but inasmuch as a longer form \u03ba\u03b1\u03ca\u03bc\u03c0\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2\nappears side by side with \u03ba\u03ac\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 in Carpathos[563], I hesitate to\naccept this interpretation of the one while the other remains to me\nwholly unintelligible. At any rate to the people themselves the word\nhas ceased to convey any idea of murderous propensities; for in the\nisland of Syme, where the name is in use, the beings denoted by it are\nheld to be harmless[564].\n\nThe issue before us is well summarised in two popular traditions\nwhich Polites adduces from Oeno\u00eb and from Tenos, and which are in\nclear mutual contradiction. The tradition of Oeno\u00eb begins thus:\n\u2018\u201cLeave-us-good-sirs\u201d (\u1f08\u03c2-\u1f10\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2-\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03af) is the name which we give them\n(the Callicantzari), though they are really evil demons (\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac).\u2019 The\ntradition of Tenos opens with the words: \u2018The Callicantzari are not\ndemons (\u03b6\u03c9\u03c4\u2019\u03ba\u03ac)[565]; they are men; as New Year\u2019s Day approaches, they\nare stricken with a fit of madness and leave their houses and wander\nto and fro.\u2019 How are we to decide which of these two traditions is the\nolder?\n\nThe evidence in favour of either is at the present day abundant;\nthe two chief authorities on the subject, Schmidt and Polites, both\nacknowledge this; and, in my own experience, I should have difficulty\nin saying which view of the Callicantzari I have the more frequently\nheard expressed. On the mainland they are most commonly demons; in the\nislands of the Aegean, more usually human. But in a matter of this kind\nit would be of no value to count heads; even if the whole population of\nGreece could be polled on the question, the view of the majority would\nhave no more value than that of the minority. The issue must be decided\non other than numerical grounds.\n\nAnd clearly the first consideration which suggests itself must be the\nnature of the earliest evidence on the subject. The earliest authority\nthen is Leo Allatius[566], and his statement is in brief as follows.\nChildren born in the octave of Christmas are seized with a kind of\nmadness; they rage to and fro with incredible swiftness; and their\nnails grow sharp like talons. To any wayfarer whom they meet they put\nthe question \u2018Tow or lead?\u2019 If he answer \u2018tow,\u2019 he escapes unhurt; if\nhe answer \u2018lead,\u2019 they crush him with all their power and leave him\nhalf-dead, lacerated by their talons.\n\nThus far the testimony of Leo Allatius distinctly favours the belief\nthat Callicantzari are human and not demoniacal in origin; but at the\nsame time it must be admitted that his statement was probably founded\nupon the particular traditions of his native island only and carries\ntherefore less weight. The barbarous custom however which he next\nproceeds to describe is of some importance. He states that children\nborn during the dangerous period between Christmas and New Year had\nthe soles of their feet scorched until the nails were singed and so\nthey could not become Callicantzari. Now there is a small but obvious\ninconsistency in this statement. Persons who scratch one another use,\npresumably, not their toe-nails but their finger-nails; and animals\nlikewise employ the fore feet and not the hind feet. To scorch the feet\ntherefore, and particularly the soles of the feet, is not a logical\nmethod of preventing the growth of talons. But on the other hand the\ntreatment adopted might well be supposed to prevent the development\nof hoofs, such as in many parts of Greece the Callicantzari are still\nbelieved to have. In other words, the custom which Leo Allatius\ndescribes was not properly understood in his time. But a custom\nwhich has ceased to be properly understood and has had an inaccurate\ninterpretation set upon it is necessarily of considerable age. Already\ntherefore in the first half of the seventeenth century the custom which\nAllatius describes was of some antiquity; and the belief that children\nturn into Callicantzari, which is implied alike by the original meaning\nand by the later interpretation of the custom, was equally ancient. In\nChios then at any rate the human origin of Callicantzari is a very old\narticle of faith.\n\nBut more important for our consideration is the answer to be made to\nthe following question; is it more probable, that Callicantzari, if\nthey were originally demons, should have come in the belief of many\npeople to be men, or that, being originally men, they should have\nassumed in the belief of many people the rank of demons? Here, if I may\ntrust the analogy of other instances in Greek folklore, my answer is\ndecided. I know of no case in which a demon has lost status and been\nreduced to human rank; but I can name three several cases in which\nbeings originally human have been elevated to the standing of demons.\nThe human maiden Gello was the prototype of the class of female demons\nnow known as Gelloudes. Striges (\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2) are properly old women\nwho by magical means can transform themselves into birds, but they too\nboth in mediaeval and in modern times are frequently confused with\ndemons. \u2018Arabs\u2019 (\u1f08\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2), as the name itself implies, were originally\nnothing but men of colour, but they now form, as will be shown in\nthe next section, a recognised class of _genii_. And if we turn from\nmodern Greek folklore to ancient Greek religion, there also we find the\ntendency in the same direction. There men in plenty are elevated to the\nrank of hero, demon, or god, but the degradation of a demon to human\nrank is a thing unknown. In view of this strongly marked principle of\nGreek superstition or religion, it is impossible to come to any other\nconclusion than that the Callicantzari were originally not demons but\nmen--men who either voluntarily or under the compulsion of a kind of\nmadness chose or were forced to assume the shape and the character of\nbeasts.\n\nHaving thus disposed of the problem presented by the various types\nof Callicantzari, we must next investigate the origin of the name\nitself. This investigation too is not a little complicated by the\nfact that the dialectic varieties of the name are fully as manifold\nand divergent as the various shapes which the monsters are locally\nbelieved to assume. There can be few words in the Greek language which\nbetter illustrate the difference in speech between one district and\nanother. The most general form of the word, and one which is either\nused side by side with other dialectic forms or at least is understood\nin almost every district, is the form which I have used throughout this\nchapter \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 or, to transliterate it, Callicantzaros; but in\nreviewing all the dialectic varieties of the word, I find that there\nare only two out of the fourteen letters composing this word, which do\nnot, in one dialect or another, suffer either modification of sound or\nchange of position. The consonant \u03ba in the first syllable and the vowel\n\u03b1 in the third are the only constant and uniform elements common to\nall dialects.\n\nThese dialectic forms demand consideration for the reason that some of\nthe derivations proposed take as their starting-point not the common\nform \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 but one of the rarer by-forms--a method which is\nevidently open to objection when it is seen, as the accompanying table\nof forms will show, that \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, besides being the common\nand normal form, is also the centre from which all the dialectic\nvarieties radiate in different directions. In compiling my list of\nforms, however, I may abbreviate it by the omission of those which are\na matter of calligraphic rather than of phonetic distinction. Thus\nthe first two syllables of \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 are often written \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9- or\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7-, but since \u03b9 and \u03b7 represent exactly the same sound and \u03bb\u03bb is\nvery seldom distinguished from \u03bb, I have uniformly written \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9- even\nwhere my authority for the particular form uses some other spelling.\nOn the other hand, as regards the use of \u03c4\u03b6 or \u03c4\u03c3, between which there\nis a real if somewhat subtle difference in sound, I have retained the\nparticular form which I have found recorded.\n\nStarting then from the normal form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb-\u03bb\u03b9-\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd-\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1-\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, which I thus\ndismember for convenience of reference to its five syllables, I may\nclassify the changes which the word undergoes in various dialects as\nfollows:\n\n(1) The insertion of \u03b1 in the second syllable, giving \u03bb\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 in the place\nof \u03bb\u03b9.\n\n(2) The prefixing of \u03c3 to the first syllable, giving \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb for \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb. With\nthis Bernhard Schmidt well compares the modern \u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7 for \u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2, and\n\u03c3\u03ba\u03cd\u03c6\u03c4\u03c9 for \u03ba\u03cd\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9.\n\n(3) The complete suppression of the second syllable, or the retention\nof the \u03b9 only as a faintly pronounced y.\n\n(4) Combined with, and consequent upon, the suppression of the\nsecond syllable, the change of \u03bb to \u03c1 in the first syllable, or the\ninterchange of the \u03bb in the first syllable with the \u03c1 in the fifth.\n\n(5) The loss of either \u03bd in the third syllable or \u03c4 in the fourth.\n\n(6) The change of the \u03b1 in the first syllable to \u03bf.\n\n(7) The change of the \u03b1 in the third syllable to \u03b5, \u03b9, \u03bf, or \u03bf\u03c5.\nInstances of this are most frequent in combination with the changes\nunder (4).\n\n(8) The interchange of the \u03ba in the third syllable with the \u03c4\u03b6 (or \u03c4\u03c3)\nin the fourth. The \u03bd\u03ba thus produced becomes \u03b3\u03b3.\n\n(9) The formation of diminutive neuter forms ending in -\u03b9 instead of\nthe masculine forms in -\u03bf\u03c2, with the consequent shift of accent from\nthe third to the fourth syllable, the -\u03b9 representing -\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd. These\nneuter forms occur chiefly in the plural.\n\nFurther it may be noted that the formation of the nominative plural of\nthe masculine forms shows some variation; the ordinary form is in -\u03bf\u03b9\nwith the accent on the antepenultimate as in the nominative singular;\na second form has the same termination but with the accent shifted to\nthe penultimate, as commonly happens in some dialects with words of the\nsecond declension (e.g. \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 with plural \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9) by assimilation\nto the other cases of the plural; while a third form has the anomalous\ntermination -\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9 (e.g. in Cephallenia, \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with plural\n\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9).\n\nThe following genealogical table exhibits the dialectic progeny of the\nnormal form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. The numeral or numerals placed against each\nform refer to the classification of phonetic changes as above. Beneath\neach form is noted the name of one place or district (though of course\nthere are usually more) in which it may be heard, or, failing the\n_provenance_, the authority for its existence.\n\n                                                                            \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\n                                  (with which \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (Cythnos and Melos) may be considered identical)\n                                                                            |\n                +--------------------+--------------+--------------------+------------------+-------------------------+--------------+\n                |                    |              |                    |                  |                         |              |\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (1)  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (5)  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (5)  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (2)  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u032f\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (3)    \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (6)   \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (8)\n  (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7,    (Cyprus)           (Cythera)          (Ionian Islands)     and \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (3)  (Gortynia and        (Pyrgos in Tenos\n  p. 67)                                                                 |        (Lesbos, etc.)        Cynouria, districts  and Western shores\n                                                                         |                  |           of the Peloponnese)  of Black Sea)\n                +---------------------+-------------------+--------------+                  |                  |                      |\n                |                     |                   |                                 |           \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (6, 5)          |\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 (\u03c4\u1f70) \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9 (\u03c4\u1f78)          \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2                            |           (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2,         |\n  (2, 7, 9) (Sciathos)  (2, 3, 7, 9)               (2, 3, 7)                                |           II. p 1245)                   |\n                        (Arachova on               (Arachova on                             |                                         |\n                        Parnassus)                 Parnassus)                               |                +------------------+-----+\n                                                                                            |                |                  |\n                                                                                            |        \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9         \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 (8, 4)\n                                +----------------------+-------------------------+----------+        (8, 3, 5)           (Oeno\u00eb on S. shore\n                                |                      |                         |                   (Tenos)             of Black Sea)\n                       \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 (4)       \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (3, 7)            \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (4)\n                       (Stenimachos in        (Arachova on                   (Scyros)\n                       Roumelia)              Parnassus)\n                           |\n          +----------------+----------+-------------------------+\n          |                           |                         |\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 (4, 7)          \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 (4, 7)          \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 (4, 7)\n    (Zagorion in                 (Ophis, on S. shore          (Cythnos)\n    Epirus)                      of Black Sea)                  |\n          |                                                  _Albanian_\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1 (\u03c4\u1f70)                                        \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bdd\u03c3\u03cc\u03bb-\u03b9\n    (4, 7, 9)                                                (cf. Hahn, _Alban. Stud._,\n    (Portari\u00e1 on                                             Vocabulary, s.v.)\n    M^t Pelion)                                              and\n                                                             _Turkish\n                                                             karak\u00f3ndjolos_\n\nThis table of dialectic forms, which was originally based mainly\nupon the information of Schmidt[567] and my own observations and has\nnow been enlarged with the aid of Polites\u2019 new work[568], is even so\nprobably far from complete; nor have I included in it, for reasons to\nbe stated, the following forms: \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1[569] (\u03c4\u1f70) which is apparently\nan abbreviated diminutive formed from the first two syllables of\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd-\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with a neuter termination, and is therefore a nickname\nrather than a strict derivative: \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03b1\u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 which Bent[570] represents\nto be the usual form in Naxos and Paros, but I hesitate to accept\nwithout confirmation from some other source: \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9[571], a\nMacedonian form, and \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, a diminutive form from the district\nof Cynouria, both so extraordinarily corrupt that I can find no place\nfor them in the table: \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, which has been thought to be\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with the first two syllables reversed in order--a change\nto which I can find no parallel--but is, as I shall show later, a\ndistinct and very important compound of the word \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2: and lastly\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u032f\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u1fc6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[572] which has nothing at all to do with \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\netymologically, but is an euphemistic and not particularly good pun\nupon it, really meaning the \u2018sailors of a galleon[573]\u2019 (Turkish\n_q\u0101lioundji_), and humorously substituted for the dreaded name of the\nCallicantzari.\n\nTo conclude this compilation, it must be added that the wives of\nCallicantzari are denoted by feminine forms with the termination -\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\nor -\u03bf\u1fe6, and their children by neuter forms ending in -\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9 or -\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b9 in\nplace of the masculine -\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nFrom a careful analysis of this material two main facts seem to emerge.\nFirst, the form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, the commonest in use, is also the\ncentre from which the other dialectic forms diverge in many directions;\nand therefore if one of the rarer dialectic forms be selected as\nthe parent-form and the basis of any etymological explanation, the\nadvocate of the particular etymology not only assumes the burden of\nshowing how his original form came to be so generally superseded by\nthe form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, but also will require many more steps in his\ngenealogical table of existing varieties of the word. Secondly, the\nwords \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (if, as I hold, they cannot\nbe connected through the mediation of the form \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2) show\nthat we have to deal with a compound word of which the second half is\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2: and corroboration of this view is afforded by the existence\nof a form of the uncompounded word in the dialect of Cynouria, where\n\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1[574] (\u03c4\u1f70)--i.e. a diminutive form of \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with \u03c3\nprefixed and \u03bd lost--is used side by side with the words \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\nand \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 to denote the same beings.\n\nIn view of the latter inference, or perhaps even apart from it, there\nis no need to delay long over a derivation propounded by a Greek\nwriter, Oeconomos, whose theory, that \u2018callicantzaros\u2019 is a corruption\nof the Latin \u2018caligatus\u2019 or perhaps of \u2018calcatura,\u2019 suggests a vision\nof a monster in hob-nailed boots which does more credit to its author\u2019s\nimagination than to his knowledge of philology.\n\nA suggestion which deserves at any rate more serious consideration is\nthat of Bernhard Schmidt[575] who holds that the word is of Turkish\norigin and passed first into Albanian and thence into Greek--reversing,\nthat is, the steps indicated in the above table. But to this there\nare several objections, each weighty in itself, and cumulatively\noverwhelming.\n\nFirst, if the Turkish word _karakondjolos_ be the source from which the\nmultitude of Greek forms, including in that case \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2[576]\nare derived, it ought to be shown how the Turkish word itself came to\nmean anything like \u2018were-wolf[577].\u2019 It is compounded, says Schmidt, of\n_kara_, \u2018black,\u2019 and _kondjolos_ which is connected with _koundjul_,\na word which means a \u2018slave of the lowest kind[578].\u2019 But before that\nderivation can be accepted, it should be shown what link in thought may\nexist between a slave even of the lowest and blackest variety and a\nwere-wolf, and also how the supposed Turkish compound came to have the\nGreek termination -\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nSecondly, the theory that the Greeks borrowed the word, and presumably\nalso the notion which it expressed, from the Turks contravenes\nhistorical probability. For when did the supposed borrowing take\nplace? Evidently not before the Ottoman influence had made itself\nthoroughly felt in Eastern Europe not only in war but in peace; for\nonly those peoples who are living side by side in friendly, or at\nthe least pacific, relations, are in a way to exchange views on the\nsubject of were-wolves or any other superstitions; and in the case of\nthe Greeks and the Turks such intercourse would certainly have been\nretarded by religious as well as racial animosity. Presumably then,\neven if the transference of the word from the Turkish to the Greek\nlanguage had been direct and not, as Schmidt somewhat unnecessarily\nsupposes, through the medium of Albanian, two or three generations\nmust have elapsed after the Ottoman occupation of Chios in 1566[579],\nand the seventeenth century must have well begun, before the Greeks of\nthat island even began to adopt the new word and the new superstition\ninvolved in it. Yet the form of the word familiar to Leo Allatius\nsince the beginning of that century, when he lived as a boy in Chios,\nwas not _karakondjolos_ or anything like it, but _callicantzaros_;\nwhile the belief that children born in the octave of Christmas became\nCallicantzari was of such antiquity in Chios that a custom founded\nupon it had already come, as I have shown, to be misinterpreted.\nIndeed, as the same writer tells us, the Callicantzari and their\nhaunts and habits were so familiar to the people of Chios that two\nproverbs of the island referred to them. One, which was addressed to\npersons always appearing in the same clothes--\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5 \u03c4\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u2018put on something new because of\nthe Callicantzari\u2019--is more than a little obscure; it would seem to\nimply that the clothes which were being worn would hardly be worth\nthe while even of the mischief-loving Callicantzari to tear; but in\nany case the very existence of an obscure proverb is evidence that\nthe Callicantzaros and all his ways had long been a matter of common\nknowledge. The second saying--\u1f10\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03b2\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, \u2018You have\ncome down from the Three Streams,\u2019 or in another version, \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c2 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1; \u2018Why not go to the Three Streams?\u2019--was addressed to mad\npersons, because, as Allatius explains, \u2018the Three Streams\u2019 was a\nwild wooded place in Chios reputed to be the haunt of Callicantzari.\nHistorically then the theory that the people of Chios borrowed from the\nTurks the name and the conception of the Callicantzari is untenable.\n\nAnother piece of historical evidence against Schmidt\u2019s theory is\nthat the Callicantzaros of the present day appears to be identical\nwith the \u2018baboutzicarios\u2019 whereof Michael Psellus[580] discoursed in\nthe eleventh century. He himself indeed, with his usual passion for\nexplaining away popular superstitions, affirms that \u2018baboutzicarios\u2019\nis the same as \u2018ephialtes,\u2019 the demon who punishes gluttony with\nnocturnal discomfort and a feeling of oppression; and in that view he\nwas followed by Suidas[581] and other lexicographers; but he states\ntwo important points in the popular superstition which he combats: the\n\u2018baboutzicarios\u2019 appears only in the octave of Christmas; and it is at\nnight that he meets and terrifies men. Moreover the name itself is, I\nsuspect, derived from the Low-Latin _babuztus_[582] meaning \u2018mad,\u2019 and\nindicates the existence then of the belief which is so largely held\nto-day, that the monstrous apparitions of Christmastide are really men\nsmitten with a peculiar kind of madness. Thus all the information which\nPsellus gives about the \u2018baboutzicarios\u2019 tallies with modern beliefs\nconcerning the Callicantzaros, and militates against the supposition\nthat the Greeks are indebted for this superstition to the Turks.\n\nFinally there is positive evidence that the Turks borrowed the word\nin question from the Greeks; for the time at which they used to fear\nthe advent of the _karakondjolos_--whether the superstition still\nremains the same, I do not know--was fixed not by their own calendar\nbut by that of the Christians. An article written on the subject of the\nTurkish calendar early in last century contains this statement: \u2018The\nTurks have received this fabulous belief from the Greeks, and they say\nthat this demon, whom the former call Kara Kondjolos and the latter\nCali Cangheros, exercises his sway of maleficence and mischief from\nChristmas-day until that of the Epiphany[583].\u2019 Clearly the Turks would\nnot have fixed the time for the appearance of the _karakondjolos_ by\nthe Christian festivals if they had not borrowed the whole superstition\nfrom the Greeks; and indeed the very termination in -\u03bf\u03c2 of the Turkish\nform of the word betrays its Hellenic origin.\n\nThe proposed Turkish derivation of the word \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 must\ntherefore be rejected as finally as Oeconomos\u2019 Latin derivation, and it\nremains only to deal with those which treat the word as genuinely Greek.\n\nThe first of these is that proposed by Cora\u00ebs[584], who made the word\na compound of \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 and \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. The formation, as might be expected\nof so great a scholar, is irreproachable; for the phonetic change of\n\u03b8 to \u03c4\u03b6; is seen in the development of the modern word \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03cc\u03c7\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\n(a hedgehog) from the ancient \u1f00\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03cc\u03c7\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. But the meaning obtained\nis less satisfactory. What has a \u2018good\u2019 or \u2018beautiful beetle\u2019 to do\nwith a Callicantzaros such as I have described? The question remains\nwithout an answer. And yet some of Cora\u00ebs\u2019 followers in recent times\nhave thought triumphantly to vindicate his view by pointing out that in\nthe dialect of Thessaly \u2018a species of large horned beetle\u2019 is known as\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9. Now I am aware that elsewhere in Greece stag-beetles are\ncalled \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, which is undoubtedly a modern form of the ancient\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and illustrates once more the phonetic change involved in\nCora\u00ebs\u2019 derivation; and I can believe that the Thessalian peasantry\nwith a certain rustic humour sometimes call them \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 instead.\nBut what light does this throw on the supposed development of meaning?\nThe view which these disciples of Cora\u00ebs appear to hold, namely that\nthe Callicantzari, who are known and feared throughout Greek lands and\neven beyond them in Turkey and in Albania, were called after an alleged\nThessalian species of Coleoptera, would be fitly matched by a theory\nthat the Devil was so named after a species of fish or a printer\u2019s\nassistant or a patent fire-lighter.\n\nThe same objection holds good as against Polites\u2019 first view[585].\nTaking the word \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 as his starting-point, instead of the\ncommon and central form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, he proposed to derive the word\nfrom \u03bb\u03cd\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018wolf,\u2019 and \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018beetle.\u2019 But though the resulting\nhybrid might be a monster as hideous as the worst of Callicantzari,\nthese creatures so far as I know show no traits suggestive of\nentomological parentage. But since Polites himself has long abandoned\nthis view, there is no need to criticize it further.\n\nHis next pronouncement on the subject[586] banished both wolf and\nbeetle and seemed to recognise the necessity of keeping the main form\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 to the fore. But while he naturally assumed \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 to be\nthe first half of the compound, he could only set down \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 as an\nunknown foreign, perhaps Slavonic, word.\n\nBut in his latest publication[587] he relinquishes this position\nand falls back once more on a dialectic form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 which is\nreported to be in use at the village of Pyrgos in Tenos and at some\nplaces on the western shores of the Black Sea. This word he believes to\nbe a compound, of which the second half is connected with a Byzantine\nword \u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03af\u03bf\u03bd, meaning a kind of boot, and the still existing, if\nsomewhat rare, word, \u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2, \u2018a boot-maker,\u2019 while the first half\nis to be either \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2, \u2018fine,\u2019 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03ba\u03b9, \u2018a hoof[588].\u2019 The former\nalternative provides easily the form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 or, as would be\nalmost more likely, \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, meaning \u2018one who wears fine boots\u2019;\nwhile in the other alternative there results a supposed original\nform \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, meaning \u2018one who has hoofs instead of boots,\u2019\nwhence, by suppression of the third syllable, comes the existing word\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, or again, by loss of the first syllable, a supposed form\n\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 which developed into \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nOn the score of formation the former alternative is unassailable; but\nthe latter, with its supposed loss of syllables, is more questionable.\nThe loss of a first syllable is common enough in modern Greek, where\nit consists of a vowel only (e.g. \u03b2\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03c9[589] for \u03b5\u1f51\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03c9, \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1 for\n\u1f21\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1, etc.), but the supposed loss of the syllable \u03ba\u03b1 would, I think,\nbe hard to parallel. Again the loss of a syllable in the middle of a\nword is fairly common either through the suppression of the vowel \u03b9 (or\n\u03b7, which is not distinguished from \u03b9 in sound) as in \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 for\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f14\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 for \u1f14\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, etc., or else when two concurrent\nsyllables begin with the same consonant, as in \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9, \u2018a\nthunderbolt,\u2019 for \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9, but the loss of the syllable \u03ba\u03bf from\nthe form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 is a bold hypothesis.\n\nBut on the score of meaning both alternatives are alike\nunconvincing. Polites indeed cites one or two popular traditions in\nwhich the Callicantzari are represented as wearing wooden or iron\nshoes--wherewith no doubt the better to kick and to trample their\nvictims; and such footgear might, I suppose, be described ironically as\n\u2018nice boots.\u2019 But to find in this occasional trait the origin of the\nword Callicantzaros[590] appears to me a counsel of despair. Nor does\nthe other alternative commend itself to me any more. It is of course\na widely accepted belief--and one by the way which contradicts the\ntraditions just mentioned--that the Callicantzari have feet like those\nof an ass or a goat. But in describing such a creature no one surely\nwould be likely to say that it had hoofs \u2018instead of boots\u2019--\u2018instead\nof feet\u2019 would be the natural and reasonable expression. To suppose\nthat the Callicantzari (or rather, to use the hypothetical form,\nthe \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9) are so named because their boot-maker provides\nthem with hoofs instead of detachable foot-gear, is little short of\nludicrous.\n\nBut though neither of the proposed derivations will, I think, win much\nacceptance, the historical evidence which Polites adduces in support of\nhis views forms a valuable contribution to the study of this subject.\nThe inferences which he draws therefrom may not be correct; but the\nmaterial which he has collected is of high interest.\n\nSingling out of the many traditions concerning the Callicantzari the\nwidely, and perhaps universally, prevalent belief that their activities\nare confined to the Twelve Days between Christmas and Epiphany, he\nargues that if we can discover the origin of this limitation, we shall\nbe in a fair way to discover also whence came the conception of the\nCallicantzari themselves.\n\nAccordingly he traces the history of winter festivals in Greece,\nstarting from the period in which the Greeks, in deference to their\nRoman masters, adopted the festivals known as the Saturnalia, the\nBrumalia, and the Kal\u00e1ndae (for so the celebration of the Kalends of\nJanuary was called by the Greeks) in place of their own old festivals\nsuch as the Kronia and some of the festivals of Dionysus. The change\nhowever was more one of name than of method of observance[591]. The\npagan orgies which marked these festal days were strongly denounced\nby the Fathers of the Church from the very earliest times. In the\nfirst century of our era, Timothy, bishop of Ephesus, met with his\nmartyrdom in an attempt to suppress such a festival. At the end of the\nfourth century S. John Chrysostom and, after him, Asterios, bishop of\nAmasea, loudly inveighed against the celebration of the Kalandae. At\nthe end of the seventh century the sixth Oecumenical Council of the\nChurch promulgated a canon forbidding all these pagan winter-festivals.\nBut still in the twelfth century, as Balsamon testifies[592], the\nold abuses continued unabated; and there are local survivals of such\nfestivals at the present day.\n\nThe most prominent feature of these celebrations was that men dressed\nthemselves up in various characters, to represent women, soldiers, or\nanimals, and thus disguised gave themselves up to the wildest orgies.\nAt Ephesus it is clear that these orgies included human sacrifice, and\nthat Bishop Timothy was on one occasion the victim; for we are told by\nPhotius that he met with his death in trying to suppress \u2018the polluted\nand blood-stained rites of the Greeks[593]\u2019; and the same writer\nspeaks of \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b3\u03ce\u03b3\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd--so this particular ceremony was called--as\na \u2018devilish and abominable festival[594]\u2019 in which men \u2018took delight\nin unholy things as if they were pious deeds[595].\u2019 And again another\naccount of the same celebration tells how men with masks on their faces\nand with clubs in their hands went about \u2018assaulting without restraint\nfree men and respectable women, perpetrating murders of no common sort\nand shedding endless blood in the best parts of the city, as if they\nwere performing a religious duty (\u1f61\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u1fd6\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03c9\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb\u1f72\u03c2\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2)[596].\u2019\n\nAt Amasea, according to Asterios, at the beginning of the fifth\ncentury, things were not much better. The peasants, he says, who come\ninto the town during the festival \u2018are beaten and outraged by drunken\nrevellers, they are robbed of anything they are carrying, they have\nwar waged upon them in a time of peace, they are mocked and insulted\nin word and in deed[597].\u2019 Here too the custom of dressing up was in\nvogue among those who took part in the festival--women\u2019s dress being\nespecially affected.\n\nAgain in the seventh century the points specially emphasized by the\ncanon of the Church are that \u2018no man is to put on feminine dress, nor\nany woman the dress proper to men, nor yet are masks, whether comic,\nsatyric, or tragic, to be worn\u2019; and the penalty for disregard of this\nordinance was to be excommunication. Yet for all these fulminations the\nold custom continued. The author of \u2018the Martyrdom of S. Dasius[598],\u2019\nwriting perhaps as late as the tenth century, speaks of the festival of\nthe Kronia as still observed in the old way: \u2018on the Kalends of January\nfoolish men, following the custom of the (pagan) Greeks, though they\ncall themselves Christians, hold a great procession, changing their\nown appearance and character, and assuming the guise of the devil;\nclothed in goat-skins and with their faces disguised,\u2019 they reject\ntheir baptismal vows and again serve in the devil\u2019s ranks. And still in\nthe twelfth century these practices obtained not only among the laity\nbut even among the clergy, some of whom, in the words of Balsamon[599],\n\u2018assume various masks and dresses, and appear in the open nave of the\nchurch, sometimes with swords girt on and in military uniform, other\ntimes as monks or even as quadrupeds.\u2019\n\nSeveral instances of the continuance of this custom in modern times\nhave been collected by Polites[600] and others; the savage orgies of\nold time have indeed dwindled into harmless mummery; but their most\nconstant feature, the wearing of strange disguises, remains unchanged;\nand the occasion too is still a winter-festival, either some part\nof the Twelve Days or the carnival preceding Lent. From certain\nfacts concerning these modern festivals it will be manifest that\nsome relation exists between the mummers who celebrate them and the\nCallicantzari.\n\nIn Crete, where the New Year is thus celebrated, the mummers are\ncalled \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, while in Achaia a fuller form of the same word,\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, is a by-name of the Callicantzari. At Portari\u00e1 on\nMount Pelion, each night of the Twelve Days, a man is dressed up as an\n\u2018Arab,\u2019 wearing an old cloak and having bells affixed to his clothes.\nHe goes the round of the streets with a lantern; and the villagers\nexplicitly state that this is done \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1, \u2018because of\nthe Callicantzari,\u2019 i.e., says Polites, as a means of getting rid of\nthem. At Pharsala there is a sort of play at the Epiphany, in which\nthe mummers represent bride, bridegroom, and \u2018Arab\u2019; the Arab tries to\ncarry off the bride, and the bridegroom defends her. In some parts of\nMacedonia similar mumming takes place at the New Year; in Belbent\u00f3s the\nmen who take part in it are called \u2018Arabs\u2019; at Palaeogratsana they have\nthe name \u1fe5\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03b9\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 (evidently another compound of \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, but one\nwhich I cannot interpret); formerly also \u2018at Kozane and in many other\nparts of Greece,\u2019 according to a Greek writer in the early part of the\nnineteenth century, throughout the Twelve Days boys carrying bells used\nto go round the houses, singing songs and having \u2018one or more of their\ncompany dressed up with masks and bells and foxes\u2019 brushes and other\nsuch things to give them a weird and monstrous look.\u2019\n\nThis custom is evidently identical with one which I myself saw enacted\nin Scyros at the carnival preceding Lent. The young men of the town\narray themselves in huge capes made of goat-skin, reaching to the\nhips or lower, and provided with holes for the arms. These capes are\nsometimes made with hoods of the same material which cover the whole\nhead and face, small holes being cut for the eyes but none for purposes\nof respiration. In other cases the cape covers the shoulders only,\nleaving the head free, and the young man contents himself with the\nblue and white kerchief, which is the usual head-gear in Scyros, and a\nroughly made domino. A third variety of cape is provided with a hood\nto cover the back of the head, while the mask for the face is made\nof the skin of some small animal such as a weasel, of which the hind\nlegs and tail are attached to the hood, while the head and forelegs\nhang down to the breast of the wearer; eye-holes are cut in these as\nin the other forms of mask. These capes are girt tightly about the\nwaist with a stout cord or strap, from which are hung all round the\nbody a large number of bronze goat-bells, of the ordinary shape but\nof extraordinary dimensions, some measuring as much as ten inches for\nthe greatest diameter. The method by which these bells are attached\nto the belt is remarkable, and is designed to permit a large number of\nthem to be worn without being in any way muffled by contact with the\ncape. Each bell is fastened to one end of a curved and springy stick of\nabout a foot in length, and the other end is inserted behind the belt\nfrom above; the curve and elasticity of the stick thus cause the bell\nto hang at some few inches distance from the body, free to jangle with\nevery motion of the dancer. Some sixty or seventy of these bells, of\nvarious sizes, are worn by the best-equipped, and the weight of such\na number was estimated by the people of the place as approximately\na hundredweight--no easy load with which to dance over the narrow,\nroughly-paved alleys of \u2018steep Scyros.\u2019 Those however who lack either\nthe prowess or the accoutrements to share in the glorious fatigue\ndo not abstain altogether from the festivities; even the small boys\nbeg, borrow, or steal a goat-bell and attach it to the hinder part of\ntheir person in lieu of a tail, or, at the worst, make good the caudal\ndeficiency with a branch from the nearest tree.\n\nThus in various grades of goat-like attire the young men and boys\ntraverse the town, stopping here and there, where the steep and\ntortuous paths offer a wider and more level space, to leap and dance,\nor anon at some friendly door to imbibe spirituous encouragement to\nfurther efforts. In the dancing itself there is nothing peculiar to\nthis festival; the swinging amble, which is the gait of the more\nheavily equipped, is prescribed by the burden of bells and the\nroughness of roads. The purpose of the leaping and dancing is solely\nto evoke as much din as possible from the bells; and prodigious indeed\nis the jarring and jangling in those narrow alleys when the troupe of\ndancers leap together into the air, as high as their burdens allow, and\ncome down with one crash.\n\nSince I first published[601] an account of these festivities in Scyros,\nsimilar celebrations of carnival-time have been reported from other\nplaces; at Sochos in Macedonia[602] the scene is almost identical\nwith that which I have described; in the district of Viza in Thrace a\nprimitive dramatic performance was recently observed in which the two\nchief actors wore similar goat-skins, masks, and bells, and had their\nhands blackened[603]; and again at Kost\u00ed in the extreme north of Thrace\nthere is mummery of the same kind[604].\n\nA scene of the same sort was formerly enacted in Athens also during\nthe carnival, and was known by the expressive name \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 (i.e.\n\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1), \u2018The Riotings.\u2019 A man dressed up as a bear used to\nrush through the streets followed by a crowd of youths howling and\nclashing any noisy instruments that came to hand. That this ceremony\nwas originally of a religious character is shown not only by its\nassociation with the season of Lent, but by an accessory rite performed\non the same occasion. Wooden statues, actually called \u03be\u03cc\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1 as late\nas the time of the Greek War of Independence, were carried out in\nprocession; and the well-being of the people was believed to be so\nbound up with the due performance of these rites, that even during the\nRevolution, when Athens was in the hands of the Turks, a native of the\nplace is said to have returned from Aegina, whither he had fled for\nsafety, in order to play the part of the bear and to carry out the\n_xoana_ for the general good[605].\n\nThe close connexion of these several modern customs, whether the\noccasion of them is the Twelve Days or Carnival-time, cannot be\ndoubted. The variation of date is of old standing; for the canon of\nthe Church, on which Balsamon[606] comments, condemns certain pagan\nfestivals on March 1st (approximately the carnival time) along with the\n_Kalandae_ and _Brumalia_; and the similarity of the dresses, masks,\nbells, and other accoutrements proper to both occasions proves the\nsubstantial identity of the festivals.\n\nA comparison of these allied modern customs can only lead to one\nconclusion. The use of the same word to denote the mummers in Crete and\nthe Callicantzari in Achaia; the name \u1fe5\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03b9\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 for these mummers\nat Palaeogratsana; the custom of blackening the face, which is clearly\nindicated by the employment of the name \u2018Arab\u2019 in this connexion; the\nmonstrous and half-animal appearance produced by masks, foxes\u2019 brushes,\ngoat-skins, and suchlike adornments; the attempted rape of the bride\nby the \u2018Arab\u2019 in the play at Pharsala--all furnish contributory\nevidence that the mummers themselves represent Callicantzari. Only at\nPortari\u00e1 is the significance of the custom somewhat confused; there\nthe \u2018Arab\u2019 in his old cloak and bells has long ceased to represent a\nCallicantzaros, and has actually been provided with a lantern with\nwhich to scare the Callicantzari away.\n\nThe mummers then represent Callicantzari; the question which remains to\nbe answered is whether the mumming was the cause or the effect of the\nbelief in Callicantzari.\n\nPolites, in support of his theory that the name Callicantzari, in its\nearliest form, meant either \u2018wearers of nice boots\u2019 or \u2018possessors of\nhoofs instead of boots,\u2019 claims that the mummers first suggested to\nthe Greek imagination the conception of the Callicantzari (it is not\nindeed anywhere mentioned in the above traditions that the feet or the\nfootgear of the mummers were in any way remarkable, but we may let\nthat pass), and that the fear which their riotous conduct inspired in\nearlier times gradually elevated them in men\u2019s minds to the rank of\ndemons. This, he urges, is the reason why these demons are feared only\nduring the Twelve Days, the period when such mumming was in vogue.\n\nIn confirmation of his view Polites cites some of the evidence\nconcerning the human origin of the Callicantzari, mentioning both\nthe fairly common belief that men turn into Callicantzari, and the\nrarer traditions that a Callicantzaros resumes his human shape if a\ntorch be thrust in his face and that the transformation of men into\nCallicantzari can be prevented by certain means. With this evidence\nI have already dealt, and I agree with Polites that in it there\nsurvives a genuine record of the human origin of the Callicantzari.\nBut of course on the further question, whether the particular men thus\nelevated to the dignity of demons were the mummers of Christmastide, it\nhas no immediate bearing.\n\nAs a second piece of corroboration, he adduces another derivation\nhardly more felicitous than those with which I have already dealt.\nThe word on which he tries his hand this time is \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\nor \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9--the name of the mummers in Crete and of the\nCallicantzari in Achaia. Here again, with a certain perversity, he\nselects the worse form of the two, \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, which is evidently\na syncopated form of the other, and proceeds to derive it from the\nSpanish _gambujo_, \u2018a mask,\u2019 leaving the subsequent development of\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 totally inexplicable. For my own part I consider it far\nmore probable that the word \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 is a humorously compounded\nname, of which the second half is the word \u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03af[607] (an Arabic\nword which has passed, probably through Turkish, into Greek) meaning\n\u2018chimney,\u2019 and that the whole by-name has reference simply to the\ncommon belief that Callicantzari try to extinguish the fire on the\nhearth and thus to gain access to the house by the chimney. As to\nthe meaning of \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9-, the first half of the compound, I can only\nhazard the conjecture that it is connected with the verb \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9,\nwhich ordinarily means to blight, to wither, to dry up, and so forth,\nthough its passive participle, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, is said by Skarlatos[608]\nto be applied to clothes which are \u2018difficult to wash.\u2019 If then the\ncompound \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 is a descriptive title of the Callicantzari,\nmeaning those who render the chimney difficult to wash, the coarse\nand eminently rustic humour of the allusion to their habits needs no\nfurther explanation; and it is the mummers of Crete who owe their name\nto the Callicantzari, not _vice versa_.\n\nWhile therefore I acknowledge and appreciate to the full the value of\nPolites\u2019 researches into the history of the Twelve Days, the inferences\nwhich he draws from the material collected seem to me no more sound\nthan the derivations which they are designed to corroborate. My own\ninterpretation of the historical facts which Polites has brought\ntogether is as follows.\n\nThe superstitions and customs connected by the modern folk with\nthe Twelve Days are undoubtedly an inheritance from ancestors who\ncelebrated the Brumalia and other pagan festivals at the same season\nof the year. These ancient festivals, though Roman in name, probably\ndiffered very little in the manner of their observance from certain\nold Greek festivals, chief among which was some festival of Dionysus.\nThis is rendered probable both by the date of these festivals and\nby the manner of their celebration. For the worship of Dionysus was\npractically confined to the winter-time; at Delphi his cult superseded\nthat of Apollo during the three winter months[609]; and at Athens the\nfour festivals of Dionysus fell within about the same period--the rural\nDionysia at the end of November or beginning of December, the Lenaea\nabout a month later, the Anthesteria at the end of January, and the\nGreat Dionysia at the end of February. As for the manner of conducting\nthe Latin-named festivals, Asterios\u2019 description of the Kal\u00e1ndae in the\nfifth century plainly attests the Dionysiac character of the orgies,\nand Balsamon, in the twelfth, was so convinced, from what he himself\nwitnessed, of their Bacchanalian origin, that he actually proposed\nto derive the name _Brumalia_ from \u0392\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2[610] (by which he meant\n\u0392\u03c1\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2) a surname of Dionysus.\n\nThe mumming then, which is still customary in some parts of Greece\nduring the Twelve Days, is a survival apparently of festivals in\nhonour of Dionysus. Further the mummers dress themselves up to\nresemble Callicantzari. But the worship of Dionysus presented a\nsimilar scene; \u2018those who made processions in honour of Dionysus,\u2019\nsays Ulpian, \u2018used to dress themselves up for that purpose to resemble\nhis companions, some in the guise of Satyrs, others as Bacchae, and\nothers as Sileni[611].\u2019 The mummers therefore of the present day have,\nit appears, inherited the custom of dressing up from the ancient\nworshippers of Dionysus and are their modern representatives; and\nfrom this it follows that the Callicantzari whom the modern mummers\nstrive to resemble are to be identified with those motley companions of\nDionysus whom his worshippers imitated of old.\n\nThe more closely these two identifications are examined, the\nmore certain they will appear. Take for example M\u00fcller\u2019s general\ndescription[612] of the celebration of Dionysus\u2019 festivals. \u2018The\nswarm of subordinate beings--Satyrs, Panes, and Nymphs--by whom\nBacchus was surrounded, and through whom life seemed to pass from\nthe god of outward nature into vegetation and the animal world, and\nbranch off into a variety of beautiful or grotesque forms, were ever\npresent to the fancy of the Greeks; it was not necessary to depart\nvery widely from the ordinary course of ideas, to imagine that dances\nof fair nymphs and bold satyrs, among the solitary woods and rocks,\nwere visible to human eyes, or even in fancy to take a part in them.\nThe intense desire felt by every worshipper of Bacchus to fight,\nto conquer, to suffer, in common with him, made them regard these\nsubordinate beings as a convenient step by which they could approach\nmore nearly to the presence of their divinity. The custom, so prevalent\nat the festivals of Bacchus, of taking the disguise of satyrs,\ndoubtless originated in this feeling, and not in the mere desire of\nconcealing excesses under the disguise of a mask; otherwise, so serious\nand pathetic a spectacle as tragedy could never have originated in\nthe choruses of these satyrs. The desire of escaping from _self_ into\nsomething new and strange, of living in an imaginary world, breaks\nforth in a thousand instances in these festivals of Bacchus. It is\nseen in the colouring the body with plaster, soot, vermilion, and\ndifferent sorts of green and red juices of plants, wearing goats\u2019 and\ndeer skins round the loins, covering the face with large leaves of\ndifferent plants; and lastly in the wearing masks of wood, bark, and\nother materials, and of a complete costume belonging to the character.\u2019\nTo complete this description it may be added that \u2018drunkenness, and the\nboisterous music of flutes, cymbals and drums, were likewise common to\nall Dionysiac festivals[613].\u2019 Which of all these things is missing in\nthe mediaeval or modern counterpart of the festival? The blackening\nof the face or the wearing of the masks, the feminine costume or\nbeast-like disguise, the boisterous music of bells, the rioting and\ndrunkenness--all are reproduced in the celebration of Kalandae and\nBrumalia or in the mumming of the Twelve Days. The mummers are the\nworshippers of a god, whose name however and existence they and their\nforefathers have long forgotten.\n\nAnd again are not the Callicantzari faithful reproductions of the\nSatyrs and Sileni who ever attended Dionysus? Their semi-bestial form\nwith legs of goat or ass affixed to a human trunk, their grotesque\nfaces and goat-like ears and horns, their boisterous and mischievous\nmerriment, their love of wine, their passion for dancing, above all\nin company with Nereids, the indecency of their actions and sometimes\nof their appearance, their wantonness and lust--all these widely\nacknowledged attributes of the Callicantzari proclaim them lineal\ndescendants of Dionysus\u2019 motley comrades.\n\nSuch is my interpretation of the facts collected by Polites, and it\ndiffers from that which he has advanced in the reversal of cause and\neffect. Starting from the fact that dressing up in various disguises\nwas the chief characteristic of the Kalandae and Brumalia and is\nperpetuated in the mumming of the Twelve Days, but failing to carry his\nresearches far enough back and so to discover the absolute identity of\nthese festivals with the ancient Dionysia, he holds that the generally\nprevalent custom of dressing up in monstrous and horrible disguises at\na given period of the year--a custom which he leaves unexplained--was\nthe cause of the belief in the activity of monstrous and horrible\ndemons at that period; those who had once been simply human mummers\nwere exalted to the ranks of the supernatural, but still betrayed\ntheir origin by the possession of a name which meant either \u2018wearers\nof nice boots\u2019 or else \u2018hoofed and not booted.\u2019 In my view on the\ncontrary the identity of the modern mumming with the ancient Dionysia\nis indisputable; and just as in ancient times the belief in the Satyrs\nand Sileni was the cause of the adoption of satyr-like disguises in the\nDionysia, so in more recent times, when the Satyrs, Sileni, and others\ncame to be included in the more comprehensive term Callicantzari,\nit was the belief in the Callicantzari which continued to cause the\nwearing of similar disguises during the Twelve Days.\n\nAnd this interpretation of the facts explains no less adequately than\nthat of Polites the reason why the activities of the Callicantzari are\nlimited to the Twelve Days. That which was in ancient times the special\nseason for the commemoration of Dionysus and his attendants has now\nwith the very gradual but still real decline of ancient beliefs become\nthe only season. This is natural and intelligible enough in itself;\nbut, if a parallel be required, Greek folklore can provide one. No one\nwill suppose that the Dryads of ancient Greece were feared during the\nfirst six days of August only, though it is likely enough that they\nhad a special festival at that time; but in modern folklore these are\nthe only days on which, in many parts of Greece, any survival of the\nDryads\u2019 memory can be found[614].\nMoreover the identification of the Callicantzari with the Satyrs and\nother kindred comrades of Dionysus elucidates a modern custom which I\nnoticed earlier in this chapter but did not then explain--the rare, but\nknown, custom of making offerings to the Callicantzari. The sweetmeats,\nwaffles, sausages, and even the pig\u2019s bone which are occasionally\nplaced in the chimney for the Callicantzari correspond, it would seem,\nwith offerings formerly made to Dionysus and shared by his train of\nSatyrs. Possibly even the choice of pork (usually in the shape of\nsausages) or, in the more rudimentary form of the survival, of a pig\u2019s\nbone, dates from the age in which the proper victim for Dionysus at the\nAnthesteria was a sow; but of course it may only have been determined\nby the fact that pork is the peasant\u2019s Christmas fare and therefore the\nmost ready offering at that season.\n\nHow then, it will be asked, does the conclusion here reached,\nnamely that the Callicantzari are, in many districts, the modern\nrepresentatives of the Satyrs and other kindred beings, square with\nthat other conclusion previously drawn from another set of facts,\nnamely that the Callicantzari were originally not demons but men who\neither voluntarily or under the compulsion of a kind of madness assumed\nthe shape and the character of beasts? The reconciliation of these two\napparently antagonistic conclusions depends primarily on the derivation\nof the name Callicantzari.\n\nNow the conditions which in my opinion that derivation should satisfy,\nhave already been indicated in my discussion of dialectic forms and in\nmy criticism of the several derivations proposed by others; but it will\nbe well to summarise them here. They are four in number.\n\nFirst, the derivation of this word, as of all others, must involve only\nsuch phonetic changes as find parallels in other words of the language.\n\nSecondly, it must recognise the commonest form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 as being\nalso the central and original form from which the many dialectic forms\nin the above table have diverged.\n\nThirdly, it must explain this form as a compound of a word\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2--presumably with \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2. For, in dialect, there exists a\nword \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9, which is used as a synonym with \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and is\nevidently in form a diminutive of the word \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, and likewise\nthere exists another synonym \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, which cannot be formed from\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 by an arbitrary shuffling of syllables but is a separate\ncompound of \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2--presumably with \u03bb\u03cd\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nFourthly, and consequently on the last-named condition, the word\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, whether alone or in composition with either \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 or \u03bb\u03cd\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2,\nmust possess a meaning adequate to denote the monsters who have been\ndescribed.\n\nAll these conditions are satisfied in the identification of the word\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with the ancient word \u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nThe phonetic change herein involved will, to any who are not familiar\nwith the pronunciation of modern Greek, appear more considerable\nthan it really is. In that pronunciation it must be remembered that\nthe accent, which indicates the syllable on which stress is laid,\nis everything, and ancient quantity is nothing; and further that\nthe ancient diphthongs _au_ and _eu_ have come to be pronounced\nrespectively as _av_ or _af_ and _ev_ or _ef_. The change of sound in\nthis case may therefore be fairly measured by the difference between\nk\u00e9nd\u0103vr\u014fs and k\u00e1ndz\u0103r\u014fs in British pronunciation[615]. The phonetic\nmodifications therefore which require notice are the substitution of \u03b1\nfor \u03b5 in the first syllable, the introduction of a \u03b6 after the \u03c4, and\nthe loss of the _v_-sound before the \u03c1.\n\nThe change from \u03b5 to \u03b1 is very common in Greek, especially (by\nassimilation it would seem) where the following syllable, as in the\nword before us, has an \u03b1 for its vowel. Thus \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 is constantly to\nbe heard instead of \u1f10\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 (light), \u1f00\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03cc\u03c2 for \u1f10\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2 (a loom),\n\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1- for \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1- in compound verbs. The insertion of \u03b6 (or \u03c3) after\n\u03c4 is certainly a less common change, but parallels can be found for\nthis also. The ancient word \u03c4\u03ad\u03c4\u03c4\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03c2 (grasshoppers) appears in modern\nGreek as \u03c4\u03b6\u03af\u03c4\u03b6\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2. A word of Latin origin[616] \u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9 (I stretch)\nhas an equally common by-form \u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9. The classical word \u03c4\u03cd\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\n(a chisel) has passed, through a diminutive form \u03c4\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, into the\nmodern \u03c4\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9. The word \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 (embroideries) has a dialectic\nform \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1[617]. From the adjective \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2 (grey, brown, dusky)\nare formed substantives \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b1 and \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u032f\u03ac (a stain or daub).\nThe substantive \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c6\u03b1 (sulkiness, sullenness) is probably to be\nidentified with the ancient \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1. The two most frequently employed\nequivalents for \u2018mad\u2019 or \u2018crazy\u2019--\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 and \u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2--are probably of\nkindred origin--an insertion of \u03b6 in the former having produced first\n\u03c4\u03b6\u03b5\u03c1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 and thence (\u03c4)\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2. Finally there is some likelihood that\nthe word \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, in a botanical sense in which it is now used, is to\nbe identified with the ancient plant-name \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd or \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\nThe former indeed now denotes a kind of juniper, while the later is\nof course our \u2018centaury\u2019; but this difference in meaning is not, I\nthink, fatal to the identification of the words. At the present day\nthe common-folk are extraordinarily vague in their nomenclature of\nnatural objects. In travelling about I made a practice of asking my\nguides and others the names of flowers and birds and suchlike; and my\ngeneral experience might fairly be summed up by saying that the average\npeasant divides all birds which he does not eat into two classes; the\nlarger ones are hawks, and the smaller are--\u2018little birds, God knows\nwhat\u2019; and an accompanying shrug of the shoulders indicates that the\nman does not care; while most flowers can be called either violets or\ngilly-flowers at pleasure. Even therefore when a peasant of superior\nintelligence knows that \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 is now the name of a kind of juniper,\nit does not follow that that name has always belonged to it, and has\nnot been transferred to it from some plant formerly used, let us say,\nfor a like purpose. In this case it is known that both juniper and some\nkind of centaury were formerly used for medicating wine[618], and the\nwine treated with either was prescribed as \u2018good for the stomach[619].\u2019\nHence a confusion of the two plants is intelligible enough among a\npeasantry not distinguished by a love of botanical accuracy. But\nI place no reliance upon this possible identification; the cases\npreviously cited furnish sufficient analogies.\n\nFurther it may be noted that in the first two examples of this\ninsertion of \u03b6 or \u03c3 a certain change in the consonants of the next\nsyllable accompanies it. The \u03b3 in \u03c4\u03ad\u03c4\u03c4\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03c2 becomes \u03ba, the \u03bd\u03c4 in \u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\nis reduced to \u03c4. In the same way, it seems, when \u03b6 was inserted after\nthe \u03c4 of \u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, the sound of _vr_ was reduced to _r_ only, though\ncertainly the loss of the _v_-sound might have occurred, apart from any\nsuch predisposing modification, as in the common word \u03be\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9 (I know) for\n\u1f20\u03be\u03b5\u03cd\u03c1\u03c9.\n\nSince then the etymological conditions of the problem are satisfied by\nthe identification of the word \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with the ancient \u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2,\nit remains only to show that the name of \u2018Centaurs\u2019 fitly belongs to\nthe monsters whom I have described; and my contention will be that the\nsimple word \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018Centaur,\u2019 surviving now only in the dialectic\ndiminutive form \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9, adequately expresses every sort and condition\nof Callicantzaros that has been depicted; that \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, the\ngeneral word, of which so many dialectic varieties occur, being\nsimply an euphemistic compound of \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 with \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 such as we\nhave previously seen in the title \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 given to the Nereids,\nexpresses precisely the same meaning as the simple word \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u2018Centaur\u2019; and that \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 originally denoted one species only\nof the genus Centaur, namely a Callicantzaros whose animal traits were\nthose of a wolf.\n\nWhat then did the ancients mean by the word \u2018centaur\u2019?\n\nThe mention of the name is apt to carry away our minds to famous frieze\nor pediment, where in one splendidly impossible creation of art the\nexcellences of man, his head and his hands, are wed with the horse\u2019s\nstrength and speed. This was the species of Centaur which the great\nsculptors and painters in the best period of Greek Art chose to depict,\nand these among educated men became the Centaurs _par excellence_. Yet\neven so it was not forgotten that they formed only one species, and\nwere strictly to be called \u1f31\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, \u2018horse-centaurs.\u2019 Moreover\ntwo other species of Centaur are named in the ancient language,\n\u1f30\u03c7\u03b8\u03c5\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 or fish-centaurs, and \u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 or ass-centaurs. Of\nthe former nothing seems to be known beyond the mere name, but this\nmatters little inasmuch as they can assuredly have contributed nothing\nto the popular conception of the wholly terrestrial Callicantzari. The\nass-centaurs will prove of more interest.\n\nBut the list of ancient species of Centaur does not really stop here.\nNo other compounds of the word Centaur may exist, but none the less\nthere were other Centaurs--other creatures, that is, of mixed human\nand animal form. Chief among these were the Satyrs, who as pourtrayed\nby early Greek art might equally well have been called \u2018hippocentaurs,\u2019\nand in the presentations of Greco-Roman art deserved the name, if I\nmay coin it, of \u2018tragocentaurs.\u2019 And the Greeks themselves recognised\nthis fact. \u2018The evidence of the coins of Macedonia,\u2019 says Miss Jane\nHarrison[620], \u2018is instructive. On the coins of Orreskii, a centaur, a\nhorse-man, bears off a woman in his arms. At Lete close at hand, with\na coinage closely resembling in style, fabric, weight the money of the\nOrreskii and other Pangaean tribes, the type is the same in _content_,\nthough with an instructive difference of form--a naked Satyr or\nSeilenos with the hooves, ears and tail of a horse seizes a woman round\nthe waist.... This interchange of types, Satyr and Centaur, is evidence\nabout which there can be no mistake. Satyr and Centaur, slightly\ndiverse types of the horse-man, are in essence one and the same.\u2019\nNor was the recognition of this fact confined to Macedonia. A famous\npicture by Zeuxis, representing the domestic life of Centaurs, with a\nfemale Centaur (a creature about as rare as a female Callicantzaros)\nsuckling her young, pourtrayed her in most respects, apart from her\nsex, conventionally, but gave her the ears of a Satyr[621]. And\nreversely Nonnus ventured to describe the \u2018shaggy Satyrs\u2019 as being, \u2018by\nblood, of Centaur-stock[622].\u2019 In view then of this close bond between\nthe two types of half-human half-animal creatures, it would be natural\nthat, when the specific name Satyr was lost, as it has been lost, from\nthe popular language, while the generic term Centaur survived in the\nform Callicantzaros, the Satyrs should have been amalgamated with those\nwho from of old had professed and called themselves Centaurs; and with\nthe Satyrs, I suppose, went also the Sileni.\n\nThus the word Centaur, in spite of the narrowing tendencies of\nGreek art which selected the hippocentaur as the ideal type, was\nalways comprehensive in popular use, and perhaps became even wider\nin scope as time went on and the distinctive appellations of Satyrs\nand suchlike were forgotten; but it is also possible that from the\nvery earliest times the distinction between Satyrs and Centaurs was\nmerely an artistic and literary convention, and that in popular speech\nthe name Centaur was applied to both without discrimination. But it\ndoes not really concern us to argue at length the question whether\nthe common-folk in antiquity never distinguished, or, having once\ndistinguished, subsequently confused the Satyrs and the Centaurs.\nIt is just worth noticing that it was in art of the Greco-Roman\nperiod, so far as I can discover, that horse-centaurs first began to\nbe represented along with Satyrs and Sileni in the _entourage_ of\nDionysus; and if this addition to the conventional treatment of such\nscenes was made, as seems likely, in deference to popular beliefs,\nthe date by which the close association of the two classes was an\naccomplished fact and confusion of them therefore likely to ensue is\napproximately determined.\n\nAt some date therefore probably not later than the beginning of\nour era, the generic name of Centaur comprised several species\nof half-human, half-animal monsters, of whom the best known were\nhorse-centaurs, ass-centaurs, Satyrs, and Sileni; and each of these\nspecies, it will be seen, has contributed something to one or other of\nthe many types of the modern Centaurs, the Callicantzari.\n\nThe horse-centaur, which was the favourite species among the artists of\nancient times, has curiously enough had least influence upon the modern\ndelineation of Callicantzari. The only attribute which they seem to\nhave received chiefly from this source is the rough shaggy hair with\nwhich they are usually said to be covered; \u2018shaggy\u2019 is Homer\u2019s epithet\nfor the Centaurs[623], and the hippocentaurs of later art retained the\ntrait; for it is specially noted by Lucian that in Zeuxis\u2019 picture the\nmale hippocentaur was shaggy all over, the human part of him no less\nthan the equine[624].\n\nThe ass-centaur on the contrary is rarely mentioned by ancient writers,\nbut has contributed largely to some presentments of the Callicantzari.\nAelian mentions the name, in the feminine form \u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1, but the\nmonster to which he applies it, although true to its name in that\nthe upper part of its body is human and the lower part asinine, is\nnot a creation of superstitious fancy, but, as is evident from other\nfacts which he mentions, some species of ape known to him, none too\naccurately, from some traveller\u2019s tale. The _locus classicus_ on the\nsubject of genuine supernatural ass-centaurs is a passage in the\nSeptuagint translation of Isaiah[625]: \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\n\u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03bf\u03b7\u03b8\u03ae\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f15\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f15\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\n\u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f51\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd--\u2018And demons shall meet with\nass-centaurs and they shall bring help one to another; there shall\nass-centaurs find rest for themselves and be at rest.\u2019 Here our Revised\nVersion runs:--\u201cThe wild beasts of the desert shall meet with the\nwolves (_Heb._ \u2018howling creatures\u2019), and the satyr shall cry to his\nfellow; yea, the night-monster shall settle there.\u201d The comparison\nis instructive. It is clear from the context that the Septuagint\ntranslators were minded to give some Greek colouring to their rendering\neven at the expense of strict accuracy; for in the previous verse,\nwhere our Revised Version employs the word \u2018jackals,\u2019 the Septuagint\nintroduces beings whose voices are generally supposed to have been\nmore attractive, the Sirens. The use of the word \u2018ass-centaurs\u2019 cannot\ntherefore have been prompted by any pedantic notions of literal\ntranslation. The creatures, for all the lack of other literary\nwarranty, must have been familiar to the popular imagination. And what\nmay be gleaned from the passage concerning their character? Apparently\nthey are the nearest Greek equivalent for \u2018howling creatures\u2019 and\nfor \u2018night-monsters\u2019; and such emphasis in the Greek is laid upon\nthe statement that they will \u2018find rest for themselves and be at\nrest,\u2019 that they must surely in general have borne a character for\nrestlessness. These restless noisy monsters of the night, in shape\nhalf-human and half-asinine, are clearly in character no less than in\nform the prototypes of some modern Callicantzari.\n\nOf the many traits inherited by the Callicantzari from the Satyrs\nand Sileni, the usual comrades of Dionysus, I have already spoken.\nSo far as outward appearance is concerned, the Satyrs as they came\nto be pourtrayed in the later Greek art are clearly responsible for\nthe goat-type so common in the description of the Callicantzari,\nwhile a reminiscence of the Sileni may perhaps be traced in the rarer\nbald-headed type. But as regards their manner of life, which as I have\nshown bears many resemblances to that of the Satyrs--their boisterous\nmerriment and rioting, their love of wine, their violence, and their\nlewdness--these traits cannot of course be referred to the Satyrs any\nmore than to the hippocentaurs or for that matter to the onocentaurs\nwho were probably no more sober or chaste than their kindred. Rather it\nwas the common possession of these qualities by the several types of\nhalf-human and half-bestial monsters that allowed them to be grouped\ntogether under the single name of Callicantzari.\n\nThus the conclusion drawn from an historical survey of those ancient\nfestivals which are now represented by the Twelve Days, namely that the\nCallicantzari are the modern representatives of Dionysus\u2019 monstrous\ncomrades, is both corroborated and amplified by the etymological\nidentification of the Callicantzari (or in the simple and unadorned\nform, the \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1) with the Centaurs, of whom the Satyrs and the\nSileni are species.\n\nThe remaining modern name on which I have to touch readily explains\nitself in the light of what has already been said. If the word\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 is the modern form of \u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, and if by the name \u2018Centaur\u2019\nwas denoted a being half-human and half-animal both in shape and\nin character, then the name \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 clearly should mean a\ncreature half-man half-wolf, such as the ancients might have called\na lycocentaur, but did actually name \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2. Lycocantzaros then\netymologically should mean the werewolf--a man transformed either by\nhis own power or by some external influence into a wolf.\n\nThe idea of lycanthropy has probably been familiar to the peasants of\nGreece continuously from the earliest ages down to the present day,\neither surviving traditionally like so many other beliefs, or possibly\nstimulated by actual experiences; for lycanthropy is not a mere figment\nof the imagination, but is a very real and terrible form of madness,\nunder the influence of which the sufferer believes himself transformed\n(and by dress or lack of it tries to transfigure himself) into a wolf\nor other wild animal, and in that state develops and satisfies a\ncraving for human flesh. Outbreaks of it were terribly frequent in the\neast of Europe during the Middle Ages, especially among the Slavonic\npopulations; and it is not likely that Greece wholly escaped this\nscourge. But whether the idea received some such impetus or no, it was\ncertainly known to the ancient Greeks, and is not wholly forgotten\nat the present day. This was curiously betrayed by some questions put\nto an American archaeologist by an Arcadian peasant. Among the items\nof falsehood vended as news by the Greek press he had seen, but owing\nto the would-be classical style had failed to understand, certain\nallegations concerning the cannibalistic habits of Red Indians; and\nthe points on which he sought enlightenment were, first, whether they\nran on all fours, and, secondly, whether they went naked or wore\nwolf-skins. In effect the only form of savagery familiar to his mind\nwas that of the werewolf.\n\nNow here, it might be thought, is the clue by which to explain the\nfirst conclusion which we reached, namely, that the Callicantzari\nwere originally men capable of transformation into beasts. The name\n\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 or werewolf, it might be urged, involved the idea of such\ntransformation; and the idea originally associated with the one species\nwas extended to the whole tribe of Callicantzari. At first sight\nsuch an explanation is attractive and appears tenable; but maturer\nconsideration compels me to reject it.\n\nIn the first place, although the word \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 cannot\netymologically have meant anything but werewolf when it was first\nemployed, at the present day in the few districts where the name may\nbe heard, in Cynouria, in Messenia, and, so far as I can ascertain, in\nCrete, it involves no idea of the transformation of men into beasts; it\nis merely a variant form for \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and in no way distinguished\nfrom it in meaning, and the Callicantzari in those districts are demons\nof definite hybrid form, not men temporarily transformed into beasts.\nAnd conversely in the Cyclades and other places where the belief in\nthis transformation of men is prevalent, the compound \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\nseems to be unknown, and \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (or some dialectic form of the\nsame word) is in vogue. Since then in many places where the generic\nname Callicantzari is alone in use, the human origin of these monsters\nis maintained, while in those few districts where the specific name\nLycocantzari is also used that human origin is denied, it is hard to\nbelieve that in this respect the surviving ideas concerning the genus\ncan be the outcome of obsolete ideas concerning the species.\n\nSecondly, if for the sake of argument it be granted that the\nCallicantzari had always been demons, how came the werewolf, the\n\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, whose very name proved him half-human, to change that\nname to \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2? How came a man who occasionally turned into\na wolf to be classified as one species in a genus of beings who _ex\nhypothesi_ were not human even in origin, but demoniacal? We should\nhave to suppose that the peasants of that epoch in which the change\nof name occurred did not distinguish between men and demons--which,\nas Euclid puts it, is absurd; wherefore the supposition that the\nCallicantzari had always been regarded as demons until werewolves were\nadmitted to their ranks cannot be maintained. Rather the point of\nresemblance between the earliest Callicantzari and werewolves, which\nmade the amalgamation of them possible, must have been the belief that\nboth alike were men transformed into animals.\n\nSince then the belief in the metamorphosis of men into Callicantzari\nexisted before that epoch--a quite indeterminate epoch, I am afraid--in\nwhich the word \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 fell into desuetude[626] and was replaced by\n\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, where are we to look for the origin of the idea?\n\nSince the Callicantzari bear the name of the Centaurs, it is obvious\nthat the enquiry must be carried yet further back, and that the ancient\nideas concerning the Centaurs\u2019 origin must be investigated. Pindar\ntouches often upon the Centaur-myths; what view did he take of the\nCentaurs\u2019 nature? Were they divine in origin or human? We shall see\nthat he held no settled view on the subject. Both traditions concerning\nthe origin of the Centaurs were familiar to him just as both traditions\nstill prevail in modern accounts of the Callicantzari; sometimes he\nfollows the one, sometimes the other. On the one hand the Centaur\nChiron is consistently described as divine. \u2018Fain would I,\u2019 says\nPindar[627], \u2018that Chiron ... wide-ruling scion of Cronos the son of\nOuranos were living and not gone, and that the Beast of the wilds were\nruling o\u2019er the glens of Pelion\u2019; and again he names him \u2018Chiron son\nof Cronos[628]\u2019 and \u2018the Beast divine[629].\u2019 In Pindar\u2019s view Chiron,\nbe he Beast or God, is certainly not human; and if he is once named\nby the same poet \u2018the Magnesian Centaur[630],\u2019 the epithet need only\nperhaps declare his habitation. His divinity is plainly asserted, and\nthe legend that he resigned the divine guerdon of immortality in order\nto deliver Prometheus accords with Pindar\u2019s doctrine.\n\nBut on the other hand the story of Ixion as told by Pindar reveals\nanother tradition. Ixion himself was human; for his presumptuous sin of\nlusting after the wife of Zeus \u2018swiftly he suffered as he, mere man,\ndeserved, and won a misery unique[631].\u2019 The son of Ixion therefore\nby a nebulous mother could not be divine. The cloud wherewith in\nhis delusion he had mated \u2018bare unto him, unblest of the Graces, a\nmonstrous son, a thing apart even as she, with no rank either among\nmen or where gods have their portion; him she nurtured and named\nCentauros; and he in the dales of Pelion did mate with Magnesian mares,\nand thence there sprang a wondrous warrior-tribe like unto both their\nparents--like to their dams in their nether parts, and the upper frame\ntheir sire\u2019s[632].\u2019 The first Centaur then, the founder of the race,\nthough only half-human in origin, was in no respect divine. How then\ncame Chiron, one of that race, to be divine? The two traditions are\ninconsistent. Pindar as a poet was not troubled thereby; he chose now\nthe one, now the other, for his art to embroider. But in the science\nof mythology the discrepancy of the two traditions is important. Once\nmore we must carry our search further back--to Hesiod and to Homer.\n\nThe former, in placing the battle of the Lapithae and the Centaurs\namong the scenes wrought on the shield of Heracles[633], says never a\nword to suggest that either set of combatants were other than human;\nthe contrast between them lies wholly in the weapons they use. The\nLapithae have their leaders enumerated, Caineus, Dryas, Pirithous,\nand the rest; the Centaurs in like manner are gathered about their\nChieftains, \u2018huge Petraeos and Asbolos the augur and Arctos and Oureios\nand black-haired Mimas and the two sons of Peukeus, Perimedes and\nDryalos.\u2019 The account reads like a description of a fight between two\ntribes, one of them equipped with body-armour and using spears, the\nother more primitive and armed only with rude wooden weapons.\n\nTo this representation of the Centaurs Homer also, in the _Iliad_,\nconsents; for, though he names them Pheres or \u2018Beasts,\u2019 it is quite\nclear that this is the proper name of a tribe of men--men who dwelt\non Mount Pelion and were hardly less valiant than the heroes who\nconquered them. \u2018Never saw I,\u2019 says Nestor, \u2018nor shall see other such\nmen as were Pirithous and Dryas, shepherd of hosts, and Caineus and\nExadios and godlike Polyphemus and Theseus, son of Aegeus, like unto\nthe immortals. Mightiest in sooth were they of men upon the earth,\nand against mightiest fought, even the mountain-haunting Pheres,\nand fearfully they did destroy them[634].\u2019 And again we hear how\nPirithous \u2018took vengeance on the shaggy Pheres, and drave them forth\nfrom Pelion to dwell nigh unto the Aethices[635].\u2019 Apart from the name\n\u2018Pheres,\u2019 which will shortly be examined, there is nothing in these\npassages any more than in that of Hesiod to suggest that the conflict\nof the Lapithae and the Centaurs means anything but the destruction\nor expulsion of a primitive and wild mountain-tribe by a people who,\nin the wearing of body-armour, had advanced one important step in\nmaterial civilisation. Yet in some respects the tribe of Centaurs\nwere, according to Homer, at least the equals of their neighbours; for\nChiron, \u2018the justest of the Centaurs[636],\u2019 was the teacher both of\nthe greatest warrior, Achilles[637], and of the greatest physician,\nAsclepios[638]. The only passage of Homer which has been held to imply\nthat the Centaurs were not men comes not from the _Iliad_ but from the\n_Odyssey_[639]--\u1f10\u03be \u03bf\u1f57 \u039a\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b8\u03b7--which Miss\nHarrison[640] translates \u2018Thence \u2019gan the feud \u2019twixt Centaurs and\nmankind,\u2019 inferring therefrom the non-humanity of the Centaurs. It is\nhowever legitimate to take the word \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9 in a stricter sense, and to\nrender the line, \u2018Thence arose the feud between Centaurs and heroes,\u2019\nto wit, the heroes Pirithous, Dryas, and others; and the inference is\nthen impaired. But in any case the _Iliad_, the earlier authority,\nconsistently depicts both Chiron and the other Centaurs as human. The\ntradition of a divine origin must have arisen between the date of\nthe _Iliad_ and the time of Pindar, and from then until now popular\nopinion must have been divided on the question whether the Centaurs,\nthe Callicantzari, were properly men or demons. But one part of the\nconclusion at which we first arrived, namely that Callicantzari were\noriginally men, is justified by Homer\u2019s and Hesiod\u2019s testimony.\n\nWhat then of the other part of that conclusion? There is ancient\nproof that the Callicantzari were originally men; but what witness is\nthere to the metamorphosis of those men into beasts? The Centaurs\u2019\nalternative name, Pheres.\n\nAn ethnological explanation of this name has recently been put forward\nby Prof. Ridgeway[641]. Concluding from the evidence of the _Iliad_\nthat \u2018the Pheres are as yet nothing more than a mountain tribe and\nare not yet conceived as half-horse half-man,\u2019 he points out, on the\nauthority of Pindar, that Pelion was the country of the Magnetes[642]\nand that Chiron not only dwelt in a cave on Pelion, but is himself\ncalled a Magnete[643]. \u2018It is then probable,\u2019 he continues[644], \u2018that\nthe Centaur myth originated in the fact that the older race (the\nPelasgians) had continued to hold out in the mountains, ever the last\nrefuge of the remnants of conquered races. At first the tribes of\nPelion may have been friendly to the (Achaean) invader who was engaged\nin subjugating other tribes with whom they had old feuds; and as the\nNorman settlers in Ireland gave their sons to be fostered by the native\nIrish, so the Achaean Peleus entrusted his son to the old Chiron.\nNor must it be forgotten that conquering races frequently regard the\nconquered both with respect and aversion. They respect them for their\nskill as wizards, because the older race are familiar with the spirits\nof the land.... On the other hand, as the older race have been driven\ninto the most barren parts of the land, and are being continually\npressed still further back, and have their women carried off, they\nnaturally lose no opportunity of making reprisals on their enemies, and\nsally forth from their homes in the mountains or forests to plunder\nand in their turn to carry off women. The conquering race consequently\nregard the aborigines with hatred, and impute to them every evil\nquality, though when it is necessary to employ sorcery they will always\nresort to one of the hated race.\u2019\n\nThen follow a series of instances from various parts of the world\nwhich amply justify this estimate of the relations between conquerors\nand conquered. But in applying the principle thus obtained to the\ncase of the Centaurs Prof. Ridgeway goes a little further. \u2018As it is\ntherefore certain that aboriginal tribes who survive in mountains and\nforests are considered not only possessed of skill in magic, but as\nalso bestial in their lusts, _and are even transformed into vipers and\nwild beasts by the imagination of their enemies_, we may reasonably\ninfer from the Centaur myth that the ancient Pelasgian tribes of Pelion\nand Ossa had been able to defy the invaders of Thessaly, and that they\nhad from the remotest times possessed these mountains.\n\n\u2018We can now explain why they are called Pheres, Centauri and Magnetes.\nScholars are agreed in holding that Pheres (\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2) is only an Aeolic\nform for \u03b8\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2, \u201cwild beasts.\u201d Such a name is not likely to have been\nassumed by the tribe itself, but is rather an opprobrious term applied\nto them by their enemies. Centauri was probably the name of some\nparticular clan of Magnetes[645].\u2019\n\nProf. Ridgeway then, as I understand, believes the Centauri to have\nbeen named Pheres or \u2018Beasts\u2019 by their enemies because they were\nbestial in character, and supports his view by the statement which I\nhave italicised. On this point I join issue.\n\nFirst, the phrase in question is based upon one only out of the many\ninstances which he adduces as evidence of the relations between\ninvaders and aborigines--and that the most dubious, for it depends upon\na somewhat arbitrary interpretation of a passage[646] of Procopius.\n\u2018He wrote,\u2019 says Prof. Ridgeway[647], \u2018in the sixth century of Britain\nthus: \u201cThe people who in old time lived in this island of Britain built\na great wall, which cut off a considerable portion of it. On either\nside of this wall the land, climate and everything are different.\nFor the district to the east of the wall enjoys a healthy climate,\nchanging with the seasons, being moderately warm in summer and cool\nin winter. It is thickly inhabited by people who live in the same\nway as other folk.\u201d After enumerating its natural advantages he then\nproceeds to say that \u201cOn the west of the wall everything is quite the\nopposite; so that, forsooth, it is impossible for a man to live there\nfor half-an-hour. Vipers and snakes innumerable and every kind of wild\nbeast share the possession of that country between them; and what is\nmost marvellous, the natives say that if a man crosses the wall and\nenters the district beyond it, he immediately dies, being quite unable\nto withstand the pestilential climate which prevails there, and that\nany beasts that wander in there straightway meet their death.\u201d\n\n\u2018There seems little doubt that the wall here meant is the Wall of\nHadrian, for the ancient geographers are confused about the orientation\nof the island.\n\n\u2018It is therefore probable that the vipers and wild beasts who lived\nbeyond the wall were nothing more than the Caledonians, nor is it\nsurprising to learn that a sudden death overtook either man or beast\nthat crossed into their territory.\u2019\n\nThat a native British statement made in the sixth century to the effect\nthat the country beyond Hadrian\u2019s wall was pestilential in climate and\ninfested with vipers, snakes, and wild beasts, should be considered as\neven probable evidence that either the Romans or the natives of Britain\nregarded the Caledonians as noxious animals, is to me surprising. The\nquestion whether the Centaurs were called Pheres because of their\nbestial repute among neighbouring tribes must be decided independently\nof that inference and on its own merits.\n\nSecondly then, was there anything bestial in the conduct of the\nCentaurs, as known to Homer, which could have won for them the name\nof \u2018Beasts\u2019? All that ancient mythology tells of their conduct may be\nbriefly summarised; they fought with the men and carried off the women\nof neighbouring tribes, and occasionally drank wine to excess. Were\nthe Achaeans then such ardent abstainers that they dubbed those who\nindulged too freely in intoxicants \u2018Beasts\u2019? Did the invaders of Greece\nand the assailants of Troy hold fighting so reprehensible? Or was it\nthe Centaurs\u2019 practice of carrying off the women of their enemies\nwhich convicted them of \u2018bestial lust\u2019? In all ages surely _humanum\nest errare_, but in that early age the practice was not only human\nbut manly; the enemy\u2019s womenfolk were among the rightful prizes of a\nraid. There is nothing then in mythology to warrant the belief that the\nCentaurs\u2019 moral conduct was such as to win for them, in that age, the\nopprobrious name of \u2018Beasts.\u2019\n\nAnd here Art supports Mythology; for clearly the representation of the\nCentaurs in semi-animal form cannot be dissociated from their name of\nPheres; the same idea must lie at the root of both. If then the name\nPheres was given to the Centaurs because of their violence or lust, the\nanimal portion of them in the representations of early Greek Art should\nhave been such as to express one or both of those qualities. But what\ndo we find? In discussing the development of the horse-centaur in art,\nMiss Harrison[648] points out that though in horse-loving Athens, by\nthe middle of the fifth century B.C., the equine element predominated\nin the composite being, \u2018in archaic representations the reverse is the\ncase. The Centaurs are in art what they are in reality, _men_ with\nmen\u2019s legs and feet, but they are shaggy mountain-men with some of the\nqualities and habits of beasts; so to indicate this in a horse-loving\ncountry they have the hind-quarters of a horse awkwardly tacked on\nto their human bodies.\u2019 Now the particular \u2018qualities and habits of\nbeasts,\u2019 if such there be, in the Centaurs must be their violence\nand lust. Are these then adequately symbolised by \u2018the hind-quarters\nof a horse awkwardly tacked on to their human bodies\u2019? In scenes of\nconflict, in the archaic representations, it is the human part of the\nCentaur which bears the brunt of the fight, and the weapon used is a\nbranch of a tree, the primitive human weapon; the Centaur fights as a\nman fights. If he had been depicted with horns or teeth or claws as his\nweapons of offence, then the animal part of him would fairly symbolise\nhis bestial violence; but who could discover a trace of pugnacity in\nhis equine loins and rump, hind legs and tail? Or again if pugnacity\nis not the particular quality which caused the Centaurs to be named\n\u2018Beasts\u2019 and to be pourtrayed in half-animal form, is it their lewdness\nwhich art thus endeavoured to suggest? Surely, if the early artists\nhad understood that the name Pheres was a contemptuous designation of\na tribe bestial in their lust, Greek taste was not so intolerant of\nithyphallic representations that they need have had recourse to so\ncryptic a symbol as the hind-quarters of a horse. But if it be supposed\nthat, while a sense of modesty, unknown to later generations, deterred\nthose early artists from a more obvious method of expressing their\nmeaning, the idea of the Centaurs\u2019 lewdness was really present to\ntheir minds, then Chiron too falls under the same condemnation and is\ntainted with the same vice as the rest. \u2018A black-figured vase,\u2019 says\nProf. Ridgeway, _\u00e0 propos_ of the virtues, not of the vices, of this\none Centaur, \u2018shows the hero (Peleus) bringing the little Achilles to\nChiron, who is depicted as a venerable old man with a white beard and\nclad in a long robe from under the back of which issues the hinder\npart of a diminutive pony, the equine portion being a mere adjunct to\nthe complete human figure[649].\u2019 So far then as the animal part is\nconcerned, the representation of Chiron in early art differs no whit\nfrom that of other Centaurs, and the quality, which is symbolised by\nthe equine adjunct in these, is imputed to him also. Yet to convict\nof bestial lust the virtuous Chiron, the chosen teacher of great\nheroes, is intolerable. In effect, no explanation of the name Pheres\nin mythology and of the biform representation of the Centaurs in art\ncan be really satisfactory which does not reckon with Chiron, the most\nfamous and \u2018the most just\u2019 of the Centaurs, as well as with the rest\nof the tribe. Some characteristic common to them all--and therefore\nnot lust or any other evil passion--must be the basis of any adequate\ninterpretation of the name \u2018Beasts.\u2019\n\nIf then the name Pheres cannot have been an opprobrious term applied\nto the Pelasgian tribe of Centauri by the Achaean invaders in token\nof their lusts or other evil qualities, can it have been a term of\nrespect? It may not now sound a respectful title; but in view of that\nethnological principle which Prof. Ridgeway enunciates, namely \u2018that\nconquering races frequently regard the conquered both with respect and\naversion,\u2019 the enquiry is worth pursuing. The principle itself seems to\nme well established; it is only his application of it in the particular\ncase of the Centaurs to which I have demurred.\n\nThe conquering race, he shows, are apt to respect the conquered\nfor their skill as wizards. This certainly holds true in the case\nbefore us. Chiron was of high repute in the arts of magic and\nprophecy. It was from him that Asclepios learned \u2018to be a healer of\nthe many-plaguing maladies of men; and thus all that came unto him\nwhether plagued with self-grown sores or with limbs wounded by the\nlustrous bronze or stone far-hurled, or marred by summer heat or winter\ncold--these he delivered, loosing each from his several infirmity, some\nwith emollient spells and some by kindly potions, or else he hung their\nlimbs with charms, or by surgery he raised them up to health[650].\u2019 And\nit was Chiron too to whom Apollo himself resorted for counsel, and from\nwhom he learned the blissful destiny of the maiden Cyrene[651]. Nor was\nChiron the only exponent of such arts among the Centaurs; for Hesiod\nnames also Asbolos as a diviner.\n\nIf then the tribe of Centaurs enjoyed a reputation for sorcery, could\nthis have won for them the name of \u2018Beasts\u2019? Can it have been that,\nin the exercise of their magic powers, they were believed able to\ntransform themselves into beasts?\n\nWithin the limits of Greek folk-lore we have already once encountered\nsuch a belief, namely in the case of the \u2018Striges,\u2019 old witches capable\nof turning themselves into birds of prey; and in the folk-lore of the\nworld at large the idea is extremely frequent. There is no need to\nencumber this chapter with a mass of recorded instances; the verdict\nof the first authority on the subject is sufficient. According to\nTylor[652], the belief \u2018that certain men, by natural gift or magic art,\ncan turn for a time into ravening wild beasts\u2019 is \u2018a widespread belief,\nextending through savage, barbaric, classic, oriental, and mediaeval\nlife, and surviving to this day in European superstition.\u2019 \u2018The origin\nof this idea,\u2019 he says, \u2018is by no means sufficiently explained,\u2019 but\nhe notes that \u2018it really occurs that, in various forms of mental\ndisease, patients prowl shyly, long to bite and destroy mankind, and\neven fancy themselves transformed into wild beasts.\u2019 Whether such cases\nof insanity are the cause or the effect of the belief, he does not\ndetermine; but he adds, what is most important to the present issue,\nthat \u2018professional sorcerers have taken up the idea, as they do any\nmorbid delusion, and pretend to turn themselves and others into beasts\nby magic art\u2019; and, later on[653], citing by way of illustration a\npassage of the _Eclogues_[654], in which Vergil \u2018tells of Moeris as\nturning into a wolf by the use of poisonous herbs, as calling up souls\nfrom the tombs, and as bewitching away crops,\u2019 he points out that in\nthe popular opinion of Vergil\u2019s age \u2018the arts of the werewolf, the\nnecromancer or \u201cmedium,\u201d and the witch, were different branches of one\ncraft.\u2019\n\nIf then the Centaurs were a tribe of reputed sorcerers and also\nobtained the secondary name of \u2018Beasts,\u2019 the analogy of worldwide\nsuperstitions suggests that the link between these two facts is to be\nfound in their magical power of assuming the shape of beasts.\n\nWhat particular beast-shape the Centaurs most often affected need not\nmuch concern us. The analogy, on which my interpretation of the name\nPheres rests, makes certainly for some shape more terrifying than that\nof a horse; and the word \u03c6\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2 itself also denotes wild and savage\nbeasts rather than domestic animals. But the horse-centaur, though it\nmonopolised art, was not the only form of centaur known, nor, if we may\njudge from modern descriptions of the Callicantzari, had it so firm a\nhold on the popular imagination as some other types. Possibly its very\nexistence is due only to the aesthetic taste of a horse-loving people.\nPindar certainly knew of one Centaurus earlier in date and far more\nmonstrous than the horse-centaurs which artists chose to depict, and\nprovided a genealogy accordingly. Moreover in the passage of Hesiod\nwhich I have quoted above and which, by its agreement with the _Iliad_\nas to the human character of the Centaurs, is proved to embody an\nearly tradition, there is at least a suggestion of a more savage form\nassumed by the Centaurs. Several of their names in that passage[655]\nseem to indicate various qualities and habits which they possessed.\nOne is called Petraeos, because the Centaurs lived in rocky caves or\nbecause they hurled rocks at their foes; another is Oureios, because\nthey were a mountain-tribe; then there are the two sons of Peukeus, so\nnamed because the Centaurs\u2019 weapons were pine-branches. And why is\nanother named Arctos? Is it not because the Centaurs assumed by sorcery\nthe form of bears? There is some probability then that the equine type\nof Centaur, the conventional Centaur of Greek Art, was a comparatively\nlate development, and that the remote age which gave to the Centaurs\nthe name of Pheres believed rather that that tribe of sorcerers were\nwont to transform themselves into the more monstrous and terrible\nshapes of bears and other wild beasts.\n\nBut if the particular animal which Greek artists selected as a\ncomponent part of their Centaurs is thus of minor importance, the\nfact that their Centaurs were always composite in conception, always\ncompounded of the human and the animal, is highly significant. In\ndiscussing the various types of Callicantzari in various parts of\nGreece, we found that, where there exists a belief in their power of\nmetamorphosis, they are stated to appear in single and complete shapes,\nwhile, where the belief in their transformation is unknown, they are\nrepresented in composite shapes; and having previously concluded that\nthe belief in their metamorphosis was a genuine and original factor\nin the superstition, we were led to formulate the principle, that a\nbeing of some single, normal, and known shape who has originally been\nbelieved capable of transforming himself into one or more other single,\nnormal, and known shapes, comes to be represented, when the belief\nin his power of transformation dies out, as a being of composite,\nabnormal, and fantastic shape, combining incongruous features of the\nseveral single, normal, and known shapes. Now the horse-centaur of\nGreek Art is a being of composite, abnormal, and fantastic shape,\ncombining incongruous features of man and animal. If then the principle\nbased on facts of modern Greek folk-lore may be applied to the facts\nof ancient Greek folk-lore, the horse-centaur of Greek Art replaced\na completely human Centaur capable of transforming himself into\ncompletely animal form.\n\nMoreover I am inclined to think that such a development was likely to\noccur in the representations of art even more readily than in verbal\ndescriptions. For even if the artist belonged to an age which had not\nyet forgotten that the Centaurs were human beings capable of turning\nthemselves by sorcery into beasts, how was he to distinguish the\nCentaur in his picture either from an ordinary man, if the Centaur\nwere in his ordinary human shape, or from a real animal, if the\nCentaur were in his assumed shape? He might of course have drawn an\nordinary man and have inscribed the legend, \u2018This is a Centaur capable\nof assuming other forms\u2019; or he might have drawn an ordinary animal\nwith the explanatory note, \u2018This is not really an animal but a Centaur\nin disguise.\u2019 But if such expedients did not satisfy his artistic\ninstincts, what was he to do? Surely his only course was to depict\nthe Centaur in his normal human shape, and by some animal adjunct\nto indicate his powers of transformation. And that is what he did;\nfor in the earliest art the fore part of the Centaur is a complete\nhuman figure, and the hind part is a somewhat disconnected equine\nappendage[656].\n\nNor is this artistic convention without parallel in ancient Greece.\nAt Phigalea there was once, we are told, an ancient statue of Demeter\nrepresented as a woman with the head and mane of a horse; and the\nexplanation of this equine adjunct was that she had once assumed the\nform of a mare[657]. In other words, the power of transformation was\nindicated in art by a composite form.\n\nHence indeed it is not unlikely that the very method which early\nartists adopted of indicating the Centaurs\u2019 power to assume various\nsingle forms, being misunderstood by later generations among whom the\nCentaurs\u2019 human origin and faculty of magical transformation were\nno longer predominant traditions, contributed not a little to the\nconception of Centaurs in an invariable composite form; and that later\nart, by blending the two incongruous elements into a more harmonious\nbut less significant whole, confirmed men in that misunderstanding,\nuntil the old traditions became a piece of rare and local lore.\n\nThus on three separate grounds--the analogy of world-wide superstition\nwhich attributes to sorcerers the power of assuming bestial form;\nthe tendency detected in modern Greek folk-lore to replace beings of\nsingle shape, but capable of transforming themselves into other single\nshapes, by creatures of composite shape; and the contrast between the\nhorse-centaurs of archaic art and those of the Parthenon--we are led to\nthe same conclusion, namely that the Centaurs were a tribe of reputed\nsorcerers whose most striking manifestation of power, in the eyes of\ntheir Achaean neighbours, was to turn themselves into wild beasts. The\nname Pheres was then in truth a title of respect, a title in no way\nderogatory to the virtuous Chiron, who, if he exercised his magical\npowers chiefly in mercy and healing, shared doubtless with the other\nCentaurs the miraculous faculty of metamorphosis.\n\nOur first conclusion then concerning the Callicantzari, namely that\nthey were originally men capable of turning into beasts, was no less\ncorrect than the second conclusion which showed them as the modern\nrepresentatives of Dionysus\u2019 attendant Satyrs and Sileni. Where the\nbeliefs in their human origin and in their power of metamorphosis\nstill prevail, Greek tradition has preserved not only the name but the\nessential character of the ancient Centaurs.\n\nDoes it seem hardly credible that popular tradition should still\nfaithfully record a superstition which dates from before Homer and yet\nis practically ignored by Greek literature? Still if the fidelity of\nthe common-folk\u2019s memory is guaranteed in many details by its agreement\nwith that which literature does record, it would be folly to disregard\nit where literature is silent or prefers another of the still prevalent\ntraditions. Let us take only Apollodorus\u2019 account[658] of the fight\nof Heracles with the Centaurs and mark the several points in which it\nconfirms the present beliefs about the Callicantzari. The old home, he\nsays, of the Centaurs before they came to Malea was Pelion; Pelion is\nnow the place where above all others stories of the Callicantzari are\nrife; and in the neighbouring island of Sciathos it is believed[659]\nthat they come at Christmas not from the lower world, but from the\nmainland, the old country of the Magnetes; even local associations then\nseem to have survived, just as in the modern stories about Demeter\nfrom Eleusis and from Phigaleia. Heracles was entertained in the cave\nof the Centaur Pholos; the Callicantzari likewise live in caves during\ntheir sojourn on earth, and their hospitality, though never sought,\nhas been endured. The Centaur Pholos ate raw meat, though he provided\nhis guest with cooked meat; the Callicantzari also regale themselves\non uncooked food[660], toads and snakes for the most part, but in one\nMessenian story also raw dogs\u2019-flesh[661]. Heracles broached a cask of\nwine, and Pholos\u2019 brother Centaurs smelt it and swarmed to the cave on\nmischief bent; the Callicantzari have the same love of wine and the\nsame malevolence. The first of the Centaurs to enter the cave were put\nto flight by Heracles with fire-brands, and his ordinary weapon, the\nbow, was not used by him save to complete the rout; fire-brands are the\nright weapons with which to scare away the Callicantzari. Surely, when\nsuch correspondences as these attest the integrity of popular tradition\nfor some two thousand years, there is nothing incredible in the\nsupposition that there had been equal integrity in popular (as opposed\nto artistic and literary) traditions for another thousand years or more\nbefore that.\n\nThus then it appears that in some districts of modern Greece, in which\nthere prevail the beliefs that the Callicantzari are, in their normal\nform, human and that they are capable of transforming themselves into\nbeasts, popular tradition dates from the age in which the Achaean\ninvaders credited the Pelasgian tribe of Centauri with magical powers\nand in token of one special manifestation thereof surnamed them Pheres.\n\nIn other districts, where the Callicantzari are represented as\ndemoniacal and not human and as monsters of mixed rather than of\nvariable shape, the popular memory goes back to a period somewhat less\nremote, that period in which a new conception, encouraged perhaps\nunwittingly by archaic art, became predominant in classical art and\nliterature, with the further result, we must suppose, that in the minds\nof some of the common-folk too monsters of composite shape took the\nplace of the old human wonder-working Centaurs.\n\nAnd yet again in other districts, where the Christmas mummers in\nthe guise of Callicantzari are the modern representatives of those\nworshippers of Dionysus who dressed themselves in the guise of\nSatyrs or Sileni, the traditions which survive are mainly those of\na post-classical age in which the half-human half-animal comrades\nof Dionysus lost their distinctive names and were enrolled in the\nCentaurs\u2019 ranks.\n\nFinally in the few districts where language at least testifies that\nwerewolves have also been numbered among the Callicantzari, popular\nbelief, though preserving much that is ancient, may have been modified\nby a superstition, or rather by an actual form of insanity, which was\nparticularly prevalent in the Middle Ages.\n\nSuch have been in different districts and periods the various\ndevelopments of a superstition which originated in the reputation for\nsorcery enjoyed by a Pelasgian tribe inhabiting Mount Pelion in a\nprehistoric age; and the complexity of modern traditions concerning the\nCallicantzari is due to the fact that they do not all date from one\nepoch but comprise the whole history of the Centaurs.\n\n\n\u00a7 14. GENII.\n\nThe tale of deities is now almost told. There remain only a few\nmiscellaneous beings, identical or, at the least, comparable with the\ncreations of ancient superstition, who may be classed together under\nthe name of \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03ac[662] (anciently \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1) or, to adopt the exact\nLatin equivalent, _genii_.\n\nThe Greek word, which in classical times served as a fair equivalent\nfor any sense of our word \u2018elements,\u2019 became from Plato\u2019s time\nonward a technical term in physics for those first beginnings of the\nmaterial world which Empedocles had previously called \u1fe5\u03b9\u03b6\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 and\nother philosophers \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03af. The physical elements however were commonly\nsupposed to be haunted each by its own peculiar spirit, and hence\namong the later Platonists the term \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 became a technicality of\ndemonology rather than of natural science[663]. Every component part\nof the visible universe was credited with an invisible _genius_, a\nspirit whose being was in some way bound up with the existence of its\nabode; and the term \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd was transferred from the material to the\nspiritual.\n\nBut though the Platonists invented and introduced this new sense of\nthe word, its widespread acceptance was probably not their work,\nbut a curious accident resulting from misinterpretation of early\nChristian writings. In St Paul\u2019s Epistles[664] there occurs several\ntimes a phrase, \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018worldly principles,\u2019 which\nwas apparently a little too cultured for many of those who heard or\nread it. It conveyed to their minds probably no more than \u2018being\nenslaved to weak and beggarly elements[665]\u2019 conveys to the British\npeasant of to-day. What more natural then than that the commentator\nshould accept the word in the sense given to it by the Platonists,\nand that the common-folk who heard his exposition should readily\nidentify the \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 whom they were bidden no longer to serve with the\nlesser deities and local _genii_ to whose service they had long been\nbound--to whose service moreover in spite of the supposed injunction\nthey have always continued faithful? The Church, they would have felt,\nacknowledged the existence of these beings; ecclesiastical authority\nendorsed ancestral tradition; and since such beings existed, it were\nfolly to ignore them; nay, since the Church declared that they were\npowers of evil, it was but prudent to propitiate them, to appease their\nmalevolence. Thus \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 came to be reckoned by every right-minded\npeasant among his regular demoniacal _entourage_. And so they\nremain--some of them hostile to man, some benevolent, but all alike\nwild, uncontrollable spirits--so that St Paul\u2019s phrase \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 even appears in one folk-song metaphorically as a description of\nwild and wilful young men[666].\n\nThus the very origin of the term rendered it comprehensive in\nmeaning. Even the greater deities of ancient Greece were, in a sense,\nlocal--the occupants of prescribed domains; Poseidon might logically\nbe called the _genius_ of the sea, Demeter of the corn-land; while\nlesser deities were always associated with particular spots and often\nunknown elsewhere. But mediaeval usage of the word \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd and of\nits derivatives tended to widen the meaning of the word yet more.\nA verb \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd[667] was formed which properly meant to settle a\n_genius_ in a particular place--either a beneficent _genius_ to act\nas tutelary deity, or an evil _genius_ whose range of activity would\nthus be circumscribed within known and narrower limits; but it was\nused also in a larger sense to denote the exercise of any magical\npowers. A corresponding adjective \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2[668] was applied\nto anyone who had dealings with genii or familiar spirits, and more\nvaguely to wizards in general. Thus the famous magician Apollonius\nof Tyana is described as a \u2018Pythagorean philosopher with power over\n_genii_\u2019 (\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 \u03a0\u03c5\u03b8\u03b1\u03b3\u03cc\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2)[669]; and two out\nof his many miracles may be taken as typical of his exercise of the\npower. Once, it is recorded, he was summoned to Byzantium by the\ninhabitants and there \u2018he charmed (\u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd) snakes and scorpions\nnot to strike, mosquitoes totally to disappear, horses to be quiet\nand not to be vicious either towards each other or towards man;\nthe river Lycus also he charmed (\u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd) not to flood and do\ndamage to Byzantium[670].\u2019 In the first part of this passage the\nverb is undoubtedly used in a very lax sense, for snakes, scorpions,\nmosquitoes, and horses can hardly have been conceived to have their own\nseveral _genii_ or guardian-spirits upon whom magic could be exercised;\nbut the charming of the river Lycus certainly suggests the restraining\nof the \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd or _genius_ of the river within settled bounds. This\nstricter sense of the word however comes out more clearly in relation\nto good _genii_ who were settled by magical charms in any given object\nor place. Hence even the word \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd reverted to a material sense,\nand was sometimes employed to mean a \u2018talisman[671]\u2019--an object, that\nis, in which resided a _genius_ capable of averting wars, pestilences,\nand suchlike. _Genii_ of this kind, we are told, were settled by the\nsame Apollonius in the statues throughout Constantinople[672], where\nthe belief in their efficacy seems to have been generally accepted;\nfor there was to be seen there a cross in the middle of which was\n\u2018the fortune of the city, namely a small chain having its ends locked\ntogether and possessed of power to keep the city abounding in all\nmanner of goods and to give her victory ever over the nations (or\nheathen), that they should have strength no more to approach and draw\nnigh thereto, but should hold further aloof from her and retreat as\nthough they had been vanquished. And the key of the chain was buried\nin the foundations of the pillars[673]\u2019 on which the cross rested.\nThe locked chain was probably the magical means by which the tutelary\n_genius_ of the city was kept at his post.\n\nBut these wide and vague usages of the word and its derivatives have\nnow for the most part disappeared. Leo Allatius[674] still used\n\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2 in the sense of \u2018magician,\u2019 but I have not found it\nin modern Greek. A remnant of the verb \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd[675] is seen in the\npast participle \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, which at the present day is applied in\nits true sense to objects \u2018haunted by _genii_.\u2019 And the word \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03ac,\nthough locally extended in scope so as to become in effect synonymous\nwith \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1 or \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac[676], comprising all non-Christian deities\nirrespectively of their close connexion with particular natural\nphenomena, still maintains in its more strict, and I think more\nfrequent, usage the meaning of _genii_.\n\nThe term thus provided by the Platonists and popularised accidentally\nby the Church is a convenience in the classification of demons; for the\nancient Greeks had no popular word which was exactly equivalent; they\nhad to choose between the vague term \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd which implied nothing\nof attachment to any place or object, and the special designation of\nthe particular kind of _genius_. The Latin tongue was in this respect\nbetter supplied. It must not however be inferred that the introduction\nof the useful term \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 into the demonological nomenclature of\nGreece marked any innovation in popular superstition. The Greeks no\nless than the Romans had from time immemorial believed in _genii_.\nThat scene of the _Aeneid_[677], in which, while Aeneas is holding a\nmemorial feast in honour of his father, a snake appears and tastes\nof the offerings and itself in turn is honoured with fresh sacrifice\nas being either the genius of the place or an attendant of the hero\nAnchises, is throughout Greek in tone; and the comment of Servius\nthereupon, \u2018There is no place without a _genius_, which usually\nmanifests itself in the form of a snake,\u2019 revives a hundred memories\nof sacred snakes tended in the temples or depicted on the tombs of\nancient Greece. Moreover several of the supernatural beings whom I have\nalready described, and whose identity with the creatures of ancient\nsuperstition is established, are essentially _genii_. The Lamia is the\n_genius_ of the darksome cave where she makes her lair; the Gorgon, of\nthe straits where she waylays her prey; and, most clearly of all, the\nDryads are the _genii_ of the trees which they inhabit. For the life\nof each one of them is bound up with the life of the tree in which\nshe dwells; and still as in old time, so surely as the tree decays\naway with age, her life too is done and \u2018her soul leaves therewith the\nlight of the sun[678].\u2019 The woodman of to-day therefore speaks with the\nutmost fidelity to ancient tradition when he calls the trees where his\nNereids dwell \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1, \u2018trees haunted by _genii_\u2019; such\ninnovation as there has been is in terminology only.\n\nOne word of caution only is required before we proceed to the\nconsideration of various species of _genii_ not yet described. It must\nnot be assumed that all _genii_, on the analogy of the tree-nymphs, die\nalong with the dissolution of their dwelling-places; the existence of\nthe _genius_ and that of the haunted object are indeed always closely\nand intimately united, but not necessarily in such a manner as to\npreclude the migration of the _genius_ on the dissolution of its first\nabode into a second. The converse proposition however, that any object\ncould enjoy prolonged existence after the departure from it of the\nindwelling power, may be considered improbable.\n\nThe _genii_ with whom I now propose to deal fall into five main\ndivisions according to their habitations. These are first buildings,\nsecondly water, thirdly mountains, caves, and desert places, fourthly\nthe air, fifthly human beings.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe _genii_ of buildings are universally acknowledged in Greece. The\nforms in which they appear are various; this may partly be explained by\nthe belief that they possess the power of assuming different shapes at\nwill; but it is certain also that their normal shape is in some measure\ndetermined by the nature of the building--house, church, or bridge--of\nwhich each is the guardian.\n\nThe _genius_ of a house appears almost always in the guise of a snake,\nor, according to Leo Allatius[679], of a lizard or other reptile. It\nis believed to have its permanent dwelling in the foundations, and\nnot infrequently some hole or crevice in a rough cottage-floor is\nregarded as the entrance to its home. About such holes peasants have\nbeen known to sprinkle bread-crumbs[680]; and I have been informed,\nthough I cannot vouch as an eye-witness for the statement, that on the\nfestival of that saint whose name the master of a house bears, he will\nsometimes combine services to both his Christian and his pagan tutelary\ndeities, substituting wine for the water on which the oil of the sacred\nlamp before the saint\u2019s icon usually floats, and pouring a libation\nof milk--for the older deities disapprove of intoxicants--about the\naperture which leads down to the subterranean home of the _genius_. If\nit so happen that there is a snake in the hole and the milky deluge\ncompels it speedily to issue from its hiding-place, its appearance\nin the house is greeted with a silent delight or with a few words of\nwelcome quietly spoken. For on no account must the \u2018guardian of the\nhouse,\u2019 \u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2[681] or \u03c4\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2[682], as it is sometimes called, be\nfrightened by any sound or sudden movement. Much less of course must\nany physical hurt or violence be done to it; the consequences of such\naction, even though it be due merely to inadvertence, are swift and\nterrible; the house itself falls, or the member of the family who was\nguilty of the outrage dies in the self-same way in which he slew the\nsnake[683].\n\nThese beliefs and customs are probably all of ancient date.\nTheophrastus[684] notes how the superstitious man, if he sees a snake\nin the house, sets up a shrine for it on the spot. The observation also\nof such snakes was a recognised department of \u2018domestic divination\u2019\n(\u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae) on which one Xenocrates--not the disciple of Plato--wrote\na treatise[685]. They were probably known as \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03af, \u2018guardians\nof the house\u2019 (a name which is identical in meaning with the modern\n\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2), for it is thus at any rate that Hesychius[686] designates\nthe great snake which Herodotus[687] tells us was \u2018guardian (\u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1)\nof the acropolis\u2019 at Athens, and which, by leaving untouched the\nhoney-cake with which it was fed every month, proved to the Athenians,\nwhen the second Persian invasion was threatening them, that their\ntutelary deity had departed from the acropolis, and decided them\nlikewise to evacuate the city. Thus the few facts that are recorded\nabout this belief in antiquity accord so exactly with modern\nobservations, that from the minuter detail of the latter the outlines\nof the former may safely be filled in.\n\nThe _genii_ of churches most commonly are seen or heard in the form of\noxen--bulls for the most part[688], but also steers and heifers[689].\nThey appear, like all _genii_, most frequently at night, and, according\nto one authority, \u2018are adorned with various precious stones which\ndiffuse a brightness such as to light the whole church.\u2019 \u2018They are\nseldom harmful,\u2019 continues the same writer[690]; \u2018the few that are\nso--called simply \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac--do not dare to make their abode within the\nchurches, but have their lairs close to them in order to do hurt to\nchurch-goers.... Near Calam\u00e1ta, on a mountain-side, there is a chapel\nof ease dedicated to St George. The peasants narrate that at each\nannual festival held there on April 23rd a _genius_ used to issue forth\nfrom a hole close by and to devour one of the festal gathering. After\nsome years the good people, seeing that there was no remedy for this\nannual catastrophe, decided to give up the festival. But a week before\nthe feast St George appeared to them all simultaneously in a dream, and\nassured them that they should suffer no hurt at the festival, because\nhe had sealed up the monster. And in fact they went there and found the\nhole closed by a massive stone, on which was imprinted the mark of a\nhorse\u2019s hoof; for St George, willing that the hole should remain always\nclosed, had made his horse strike the stone with his hoof. Thenceforth\nthe saint has borne the surname \u03a0\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (from \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd the \u2018shoe\u2019 or\n\u2018hoof\u2019 of a horse) and up to this day is shewn the hoof-mark upon a\nstone.\u2019\n\nHarmless _genii_ however are more frequently assigned to churches,\nexercising a kind of wardenship over them and taking an interest in\nthe parishioners. At Marousi, a village near Athens, there is a church\nwhich is still believed to have a _genius_, in the form of a bull,\nlurking in its foundations; and when any parishioner is about to die,\nthe bull is heard to bellow three times at midnight. A church in Athens\nused to claim the same distinction, and the bellowing of the bull\nthere is said to have been heard within living memory at the death of\nan old man named Lioules[691]. Other churches also in Athens, not to\nbe outdone, pretended to the possession of _genii_ in the shapes of a\nsnake, a black cock, and a woman, who all followed the bull\u2019s example\nand emitted their appropriate cries thrice at midnight as a presage of\nsimilar events[692].\n\nWhy the _genii_ of churches in particular appear mostly as bulls, I\ncannot determine. When the _genius_ of a river manifests itself in that\nform, the connexion with antiquity is obvious; for river-gods, who _ex\nvi termini_ are the _genii_ of the rivers whose name they share, were\nconstantly pourtrayed of old in the form of bulls. All that can be said\nis that the type of _genius_ is old, though its localisation is new and\ndifficult to explain.\n\nThe _genii_ of bridges cannot properly, I suppose, be distinguished\nfrom the _genii_ of those rivers or ravines which the bridges span.\nThey are usually depicted as dragons or other formidable monsters,\nand they are best known for the cruel toll which they exact when\nthe bridge is a-building. The original conception is doubtless that\nof the river-god demanding a sacrifice, even of human life, in\ncompensation for men\u2019s encroachment upon his domain. The most famous\nof the folk-songs which celebrate such a theme is associated with \u2018the\nBridge of Arta,\u2019 but many versions[693] of it have been published\nfrom different districts, and in some the names of other bridges are\nsubstituted; in Crete the story is attached to the \u2018shaking bridge\u2019\nover a mountain torrent near Canea[694]; in the Peloponnese to \u2018the\nLady\u2019s bridge\u2019 over the river Ladon[695]; in the neighbourhood of\nThermopylae to a bridge over the river Hell\u00e1da[696]; in the island of\nCos to the old bridge of Antimachia[697]. The song, in the version[698]\nwhich I select, runs thus:\n\n    \u2018Apprentices three-score there were, and craftsmen five and forty,\n    For three long years they laboured sore to build the bridge of Arta;\n    All the day long they builded it, each night it fell in ruin.\n    The craftsmen fall to loud lament, th\u2019 apprentices to weeping:\n    \u201cAlas, alas for all our toil, alack for all our labour,\n    That all day long we\u2019re building it, at night it falls in ruin.\u201d\n    Then from the rightmost arch thereof the demon gave them answer:\n    \u201cAn ye devote not human life, no wall hath sure foundation;\n    And now devote not orphan-child, nor wayfarer, nor stranger,\n    But give your master-craftsman\u2019s wife, his wife so fair and gracious,\n    That cometh late toward eventide, that cometh late toward supper.\u201d\n    The master-craftsman heard it well, and fell as one death-stricken;\n    A word anon he writes and bids the nightingale to carry:\n    \u201cTarry to don thy best array, tarry to come to supper,\n    Tarry to go upon thy way across the bridge of Arta.\u201d\n    The nightingale heard not aright, and carried other message:\n    \u201cHurry to don thy best array, hurry to come to supper,\n    Hurry to go upon thy way across the bridge of Arta.\u201d\n    Lo, there she came, now full in view, along the dust-white roadway;\n    The master-craftsman her espied, and all his heart was breaking;\n    E\u2019en from afar she bids them hail, e\u2019en from afar she greets them:\n    \u201cGladness and health, my masters all, apprentices and craftsmen!\n    What ails the master-craftsman then that he is so distress\u00e8d?\u201d\n    \u201cNought ails save only that his ring by the first arch is fallen;\n    Who shall go in and out again his ring thence to recover?\u201d\n    \u201cMaster, be not so bitter-grieved, I will go fetch it for thee;\n    Let me go in and out again thy ring thence to recover.\u201d\n    Not yet had she made full descent, not halfway had descended;\n    \u201cDraw up the rope, prithee goodman, draw up the cable quickly,\n    For all the world is upside down, and nought have I recovered.\u201d\n    One plies the spade to cover her, another shovels mortar,\n    The master-craftsman lifts a stone, and hurls it down upon her.\n    \u201cAlas, alas for this our doom, alack for our sad fortune!\n    Three sisters we, and for all three a cruel fate was written.\n    One went to building Do\u00fanavi, the next to build Avl\u00f3na,\n    And I, the last of all the three, must build the bridge of Arta.\n    Even as trembles my poor heart, so may the bridge-way tremble,\n    Even as my fair tresses fall, so fall all they that cross it!\u201d\n    \u201cNay, change, girl, prithee change thy speech, and utter other presage;\n    Thou hast one brother dear to thee, and haply he may pass it.\u201d\n    Then chang\u00e8d she her speech withal, and uttered other presage:\n    \u201cAs iron now is my poor heart, as iron stand the bridge-way,\n    As iron are my tresses fair, iron be they that cross it!\n    For I\u2019ve a brother far away, and haply he may pass it.\u201d\u2019\n\nBut while the most famous examples of sacrifice to _genii_ are\nconnected with bridges, the custom in a less criminal form than that\nwhich the folk-songs celebrate is common throughout Greece to-day. In\nbuilding a house or any other edifice, the question of propitiating the\n_genius_ already in possession of the site and of inducing it to become\nthe guardian of the building is duly considered. Sacrifice is done. The\npeace-offering, according to the importance of the building and the\nmeans of the future owner, may consist of an ox, a ram, a he-goat, or\na cock (or, less commonly, of a hen with her brood[699]), preferably\nof black colour, as were in old time victims designed for gods beneath\nthe earth. The selected animal is in Acarnania and Aetolia[700] taken\nto the site, and there its throat is cut so that the blood may fall on\nthe foundation-stone, beneath which the body is then interred. In some\nother places[701] it suffices to mark a cross upon the stone with the\nvictim\u2019s blood. In the same district the practice of taking auspices\nfrom the victim--from the shoulder-blade in the case of a ram and from\nthe breast-bone in the case of a cock--is occasionally combined with\nthe sacrifice, but is not essential to the ceremony.\n\nBut animals, though they are the only victims actually slaughtered upon\nthe spot, are not the only form of peace-offering. Even at the present\nday when, added to the power of the law, a sense of humanity, or a fear\nof being pronounced \u2018uncivilised,\u2019 tends to deter the peasantry even of\nthe most outlying districts from actually satisfying the more savage\ninstincts of hereditary superstition, there still exists a strong\nfeeling that a human victim is preferable to an animal for ensuring\nthe stability of a building. Fortunately therefore for the builder\u2019s\npeace of mind, the principles of sympathetic magic offer a compromise\nbetween actual murder and total disregard of the traditional rite.\nIt suffices to obtain from a man or woman--an enemy for choice but,\nfailing that, \u2018out of philanthropy\u2019 as a Greek authority puts it, any\naged person whose term of life is well-nigh done--some such object as\na hair or the paring of a nail, or again a shred of his clothing or a\ncast-off shoe, or it may be a thread or stick[702] marked with the\nmeasure either of the footprint or of the full stature of the person,\nand to bury it beneath the foundation-stone of the new edifice. By this\nproceeding a human victim is devoted to the _genius_ of the site, and\nwill die within the year as surely as if an image of him were moulded\nin wax and a needle run through its heart. Another variation of the\nsame rite consists in enticing some passer-by to the spot and laying\nthe foundation-stone upon his shadow. In Santorini I myself was once\nsaved from such a fate by the rough benevolence of a stranger who\ndragged me back from the place where I was standing and adjured me to\nwatch the proceedings from the other side of the trench where my shadow\ncould not fall across the foundations. Nor are the invited guests\nimmune; unenviable therefore is the position of those persons who are\nofficially required to assist at the laying of the foundation-stones of\nchurches and other public buildings. The demarch (or mayor) of Agrinion\ninformed me that, according to the belief of the common-folk in the\nneighbourhood, his four immediate predecessors in office had all fallen\nvictims to this their public duty; and he described to me the concern\nand consternation of his own women-folk when he himself had recently\nbraved the ordeal. He honestly allowed too that he had kept his shadow\nclear of the dangerous spot.\n\nSo much importance is attached to these foundation-ceremonies that the\nChurch has provided a special office to be read alike for cathedral or\nfor cottage; and the priest who attends for this purpose is sometimes\ninduced to pronounce a blessing on the animal that is to be sacrificed.\nThis however is the more expensive rite; the victim has to be bought,\nand the priest expects a fee for blessing it; whereas the immolation of\na shadow-victim costs nothing, is more efficacious as being equivalent\nto a human sacrifice, and provides an excellent means for removing an\nenemy with impunity.\n\nThe sacrificial ceremony is also sometimes performed on other occasions\nthan those of the laying of foundation-stones. In Athens a precept of\npopular wisdom enjoins the slaughtering of a black cock when a new\nquarry is opened[703]; and an interesting account is given by Bent[704]\nof a similar scene at the launching of a ship in Santorini. \u2018When they\nhave built a new vessel, they have a grand ceremony at the launching,\nor benediction, as they call it here, at which the priest officiates;\nand the crowd eagerly watch, as she glides into the water, the position\nshe takes, for an omen is attached to this. It is customary to\nslaughter an ox, a lamb or a dove on these occasions, according to the\nwealth of the proprietor and the size of the ship, and with the blood\nto make a cross on the deck. After this the captain jumps off the bows\ninto the sea with all his clothes on, and the ceremony is followed by\na banquet and much rejoicing.\u2019 Here it is reasonable to suppose that\nthe captain by jumping into the sea goes through the form of offering\nhimself as a sacrifice to the _genius_ of the sea, and that the animal\nactually slaughtered is a surrogate victim in his stead.\n\nThe strength of these superstitions to-day, as gauged by the shifts\nand compromises to which the peasants resort in order to satisfy\ntheir scruples, goes far to guarantee the historical accuracy of\nsuch ballads as \u2018the Bridge of Arta.\u2019 Not of course that each of the\nnumerous versions with all its local colouring is to be taken as\nevidence of human sacrifice in each place named; exactitude of detail\ncannot be claimed for them. But as a faithful picture of the beliefs\nand customs prevalent not more perhaps than two or three centuries ago\nthey deserve full credence. Both the wide dispersion of the several\nversions, and also the skill with which in each of them the action of\nthe master-builder evokes feelings not of aversion but rather of pity\nfor a man of whom religious duty demanded the sacrifice of his own\nwife, furnish plain proof of the domination which the superstition in\nits most gruesome form once exercised; and the intentions of the modern\npeasants, if not their acts, testify to the same overwhelming dread of\n_genii_.\n\nThat the ceremonies which I have described are in general of the nature\nof sacrifices to _genii_ is beyond question. In the version of \u2018the\nBridge of Arta\u2019 which I have translated, both the _genius_ and the\nvictim whom he demands appear as _dramatis personae_. Again, in some\ndistricts the word \u2018sacrifice\u2019 (\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03cc[705] or \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1[706]) is actually\nstill applied to the rite. Finally, though the victims are of various\nkinds and the forms in which a genius may appear equally various,\nthe distinction between the two is as a rule kept clear; cases of a\nsingle species of animal serving for both _genius_ and victim--of the\n_genius_ for example appearing as a cock or of the chosen victim being\na snake--are extremely rare.\n\nConfusion of the two nevertheless does occur; the original _genius_\nof the site is sometimes forgotten, and the victim is conceived to be\nslain and buried in order that from the under-world it may exercise a\nguardianship over the building which is its tomb. Thus in one version\nof \u2018the Bridge of Arta,\u2019 inferior in many respects to that which I have\ntranslated, the complaint of the master-craftsman\u2019s wife contains the\nline\n\n    \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f34\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd, \u03c4\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u1f70 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd[707],\n    \u2018Three sisters we, and all the three they took for guardian-demons.\u2019\n\nProbably the same confusion of thought was responsible for the\nrepresentation of the _genius_ of a church in Athens in the shape\nof a cock, which is the commonest kind of victim; and possibly too\nthe bulls which are so frequently the guardians of churches were\noriginally the victims considered most suitable for the foundation of\nsuch important edifices. This error of belief has undoubtedly been\nfacilitated by the use of a word which in its mediaeval meanings has\nalready been discussed--the verb \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9. This, as I have pointed\nout, meant strictly \u2018to provide (a place or object) with a _genius_.\u2019\nBut in modern usage it can take an accusative of the victim devoted\nto a _genius_ no less than of the place provided with a _genius_.\nIn Zacynthos and Cephalonia, says Bernhard Schmidt[708], the phrase\n\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9 \u1f00\u03c1\u03bd\u03af, for example, meaning \u2018I devote a lamb\u2019 to the\n_genius_, is in regular use; and so too in the above rendering of \u2018the\nBridge of Arta,\u2019 the phrase which I have translated \u2018an ye devote not\nhuman life\u2019 is in the Greek \u1f02\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03ce\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf. Now verbs of\nthis form are in both ancient and modern Greek usually causative.\nThe ancient \u03b4\u03b7\u03bb\u03cc\u03c9 and modern \u03b4\u03b7\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9 mean \u2018I make (an object) clear\u2019\n(\u03b4\u1fc6\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2): the ancient \u03c7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03cc\u03c9 and modern \u03c7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9 mean \u2018I make (an object)\ngold\u2019 (\u03c7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2). Similarly \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9 is readily taken to mean \u2018I\nmake (an animal or person) the _genius_\u2019 (\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd) of a place. If\ntherefore this word continued to be applied to the rite of slaughtering\nan animal at foundation-ceremonies in any place where the true purport\nof the custom, as often happens, had been forgotten, language itself\nwould at once suggest that erroneous interpretation of the custom of\nwhich we have seen examples; the victim would be raised to the rank of\n_genius_.\n\nThis development of modern superstition supplies a clue for tracing the\nevolution of ancient Greek religion, which has hitherto been missed\nby those who have dealt with the subject[709]. They have generally\ncompared with the modern Greek superstition similar beliefs and\ncustoms prevalent throughout the Balkans and even beyond them, and\nhave thence inferred that the practice of sacrificing to the _genii_\nof sites selected for building was of Slavonic importation. The wide\ndistribution of the superstition in the Balkans, especially among\nthe Slavonic peoples, is a fact; but the inference goes too far. To\nSlavonic influence I impute the recrudescence of the superstition in\nits most barbarous form, involving human sacrifice, during the Middle\nAges. Ancient history, even ancient mythology, contains no story so\nsuggestive of barbarity as one brief statement made by Suidas: \u2018At St\nMamas there was a large bridge consisting of twelve arches (for there\nwas much water coming down), and there a brazen dragon was set up,\nbecause it was thought that a dragon inhabited the place; and there\nmany maidens were sacrificed[710].\u2019 The date of the events to which the\npassage refers cannot be ascertained; but I certainly suspect it to be\nsubsequent to the Slavonic invasion of Greece. Yet even so the Slavs\ndid not initiate a new custom but merely stimulated the native belief\nthat _genii_ required sacrifice in compensation for the building of any\nedifice on their domains. This belief dated from the Homeric age--nay,\nwas already old when the Achaeans built their great wall with lofty\ntowers, a bulwark for them and their ships against the men of Ilium.\n\n\u2018Thus,\u2019 we read, \u2018did they labour, even the long-haired Achaeans; but\nthe gods sitting beside Zeus that wieldeth the lightning gazed in\nwonder on the mighty work of the bronze-clad Achaeans. And to them\ndid Poseidon the earth-shaker open speech: \u201cFather Zeus, is there now\none mortal on the boundless earth, that will henceforth declare unto\nimmortals his mind and purpose? Seest thou not that contrariwise the\nlong-haired Achaeans have built a wall to guard their ships and driven\na trench about it, and have not offered unto the gods fair sacrifice?\nVerily their wall shall be famed far as Dawn spreads her light; and\nthat which I with Phoebus Apollo toiled to build for the hero Laomedon\nwill men forget.\u201d And unto him spake Zeus that gathereth the clouds,\nsore-vexed: \u201cFie on thee, thou earth-shaker whose sway is wide, for\nthis thy word. Well might this device of men dismay some other god\nlesser than thou by far in work and will; but thou verily shalt be\nfamed far as Dawn spreads her light. Go to; when the long-haired\nAchaeans be gone again with their ships unto their own native land,\nbreak thou down their wall and cast it all into the sea and cover again\nthe vast shore with sand, that so the Achaeans\u2019 great wall may be wiped\nout from thy sight[711].\u201d\u2019 And later in the _Iliad_ we read of the\nfulfilment; how that the rivers of the Trojan land were marshalled and\nled by Poseidon, his trident in his hands, to the assault of the wall\nthat \u2018had been fashioned without the will of the gods and could no long\ntime endure[712].\u2019\n\nThe whole passage finds its best commentary in modern superstition.\nPoseidon, though a great god, is the local _genius_; to him belongs the\nshore where the Greek ships are assembled, to him too the land where\nhe had built the town of Ilium; to him therefore were due sacrifices\nfor the building of the wall. But the god whose fame is known far as\nDawn spreads her light deserves the rebuke administered by Zeus for his\npettiness of spirit. An ordinary local _genius_, \u2018some god far lesser\nthan he in work and will,\u2019 might justly wax wrathful at the neglect\nof his more limited prerogatives. Yet even so the wall was doomed to\nendure no long time. Then as now the divine law ran, \u2018An ye devote not\nhecatombs, no wall hath sure foundation.\u2019\n\nIn this passage there is of course no suggestion of a local _genius_ in\nanimal shape; the anthropomorphic tendency of Homeric religion was too\nstrong to admit of that. But since we know from Theophrastus\u2019 sketch\nof the superstitious man and from other sources that in the classical\nage _genii_ of houses and temples were believed to appear in the form\nof snakes, we may without hesitation assign the same belief to earlier\nages. Such a superstition could not in the nature of things have sprung\nup after an anthropomorphic conception of the gods dominated all\nreligion, but must necessarily have been a survival from pre-classical\nand pre-Homeric folklore.\n\nBut, though Homer speaks of the _genius_ only as a \u2018lesser god\u2019 without\nfurther description, he implies clearly that the present custom of\ndoing sacrifice to such a being for the foundation of any building\nwas then in existence. Did the sacrifice ever involve human victims?\nA positive and certain answer cannot, I suppose, be made; but bearing\nin mind the many ancient traditions of human sacrifice in Greece and\neven the occasional continuance of the practice in the most civilised\nand enlightened age[713] I cannot doubt it. I suspect that, if we\ncould obtain an earlier version of the story of Iphigenia than has\ncome down to us, we should find that the wrath of Artemis had no part\nin it, but that human sacrifice was offered to the Winds or other\n_genii_ of the air--that the \u2018maiden\u2019s blood\u2019 was, in the words of\nAeschylus, \u2018a sacrifice to stay the winds[714],\u2019 \u2018a charm to lull the\nThracian blasts[715],\u2019 that and nothing more. But a story still more\nstrongly evidential of the custom is told by Pausanias[716]. In the\nwar between Messenia and Sparta, when the Messenians had been reduced\nto extremities, \u2018they decided to evacuate all their many towns in the\nopen country and to establish themselves on Mount Ithome. Now there was\nthere a town of no great size, which Homer, they say, includes in the\nCatalogue--\u201cIthome steep as a ladder.\u201d In this town they established\nthemselves, extending its ancient circuit so as to provide a stronghold\nlarge enough for all. And apart even from the fortifications the place\nwas strong; for Ithome is as high as any mountain in the Peloponnese\nand, where the town lay, was particularly inaccessible. They determined\nalso to send an envoy to Delphi,\u2019 who brought them back the following\noracle:\n\n    A maiden pure unto the nether powers,\n    Chosen by lot, of lineage Aepytid,\n    Ye shall devote in sacrifice by night.\n    But if ye fail thereof, take ye a maid\n    E\u2019en from a man of other race as victim,\n    An he shall give her willingly to slay.\n\nAnd the story goes on to tell how in the end Aristodemus devoted his\nown daughter, and she became the accepted victim.\n\nHere Pausanias, it will be noticed, does not give any reason for the\nsacrifice being required. But three points in his narrative are highly\nsuggestive. The story of the sacrifice follows immediately upon the\nmention of the building of new fortifications--and the foundation of\nwhat was to be practically a new city was eminently a question on which\nto consult the Delphic oracle; the powers to whom sacrifice is ordered\nare designated merely as \u03bd\u03ad\u03c1\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, the nearest equivalent\nin ancient Greek to _genii_; and the time of the sacrifice is to be\nnight, when, according to modern belief, _genii_ are most active. If\nthen modern superstition can ever teach us anything about ancient\nreligion, it supplies the clue here. The maiden was to be sacrificed\nto the _genii_ of Mount Ithome to ensure the stability of the new\nfortifications.\n\nNow if my interpretation of this story is right and the practice of\nhuman sacrifice to _genii_ was known in ancient Greece, the transition\nfrom the worship of _genii_ in the form of snakes or dragons to the\nworship of tutelary heroes or gods in human likeness is readily\nexplained on the analogy of a similar transition in modern belief.\nWhat was originally the victim was mistaken for the genius. The same\nconfusion of thought, by which, in one version of \u2018the Bridge of Arta,\u2019\nthe _genius_ in person demands a human victim and yet afterwards the\nvictim speaks of herself as becoming the _genius_ of the bridge,\ncan be detected even in the oracle given to the Messenians. \u2018If ye\nfail to find a maid of the blood of the Aepytidae,\u2019 it said, \u2018ye may\ntake the daughter of a man of other lineage, provided that he give\nher willingly for sacrifice.\u2019 Why the condition? Why \u2018willingly\u2019\nonly? Because, I think, even the Delphic oracle halted between two\nopinions--between the conception of the maiden as a victim to appease\nangry _genii_ and the belief that the dead girl herself would become\nthe guardian-_daemon_ of the stronghold.\n\nLet us read another story from Pausanias[717]: \u2018At the base of Mount\nCronius, on the north side (of the Altis at Olympia), between the\ntreasuries and the mountain, there is a sanctuary of Ilithyia, and in\nit Sosipolis, a native _daemon_ of Elis, is worshipped. To Ilithyia\nthey give the surname \u201cOlympian,\u201d and elect a priestess to minister to\nher year by year. The old woman too who waits upon Sosipolis is bound\nby Elean custom to chastity in her own person, and brings water for the\nbathing of the god and serves him with barley-cakes kneaded with honey.\nIn the front part of the temple, which is of double construction, is\nan altar of Ilithyia, and entrance thereto is public; but in the inner\npart Sosipolis is worshipped, and only the woman who serves the god may\nenter, and she only with her head and face covered by a white veil.\nAnd while she does so, maidens and married women wait in the temple of\nIlithyia and sing a hymn; incense of all sorts is also offered to him,\nbut no libations of wine. An oath also at the sanctuary of Sosipolis is\ntaken on very great occasions.\n\n\u2018It is said that when the Arcadians had once invaded Elis, and the\nEleans lay encamped opposite to them, a woman came to the generals of\nthe Eleans, with a child at her breast, and said that, though she was\nthe mother of the child, she offered it, bidden thereto by dreams,\nto fight on the side of the Eleans. And those in command, trusting\nthe woman\u2019s tale, put the child in the forefront of the army naked.\nThen the Arcadians came to the attack, and lo! straightway the child\nwas changed into a serpent. And the Arcadians, dismayed at the sight,\nturned to flight, and were pressed by the Eleans, who won a signal\nvictory and gave to the god the name of Sosipolis (\u201csaviour of the\nstate\u201d). And at the place where the serpent disappeared in the ground\nafter the battle they set up the sanctuary; and along with him they\ntook to worshipping Ilithyia, because she was the goddess who had\nbrought the boy into the world.\u2019\n\nIs this story complete, or did Pausanias\u2019 informants suppress one\nmaterial point out of shame? How came a mortal infant to assume the\nform of a serpent which is proper only to apparitions from the lower\nworld? The missing episode is, I believe, the sacrifice of the child,\nwhich having been offered willingly became after death a _daemon_\nfriendly to the Eleans and fought, in the form of a serpent, on their\nside. Human sacrifice before a battle was not unknown in ancient\nGreece[718], but by Pausanias\u2019 time the inhabitants of Elis might well\nhave hesitated to impute to their forefathers so barbarous a custom,\nand have modified the story by omitting even that incident which alone\ncould make it harmonise with ancient religious ideas[719].\n\nA similar view has been taken of another story of Pausanias[720], also\nfrom Elis. \u2018Oxylus (the king of Elis), they say, had two sons Aetolus\nand Laias. Aetolus died before his parents and was buried by them in a\ntomb which they caused to be made exactly in the gate of the road to\nOlympia and the sanctuary of Zeus. The cause of their burying him thus\nwas an oracle which forbade the corpse to be either within or without\nthe city. And up to my time the governor of the gymnasium still makes\nannual offerings to Aetolus as a hero.\u2019 Commenting on this passage Dr\nFrazer[721] says, \u2018The spirit of the dead man was probably expected\nto guard the gate against foes.... It is possible that in this story\nof the burial of Aetolus in the gate we have a faded tradition of an\nactual human sacrifice offered when the gate was built.\u2019 Certainly the\nfacts that Aetolus was young and that he was not head of the royal\nhouse make his elevation to the rank of tutelary hero after death\ndifficult to understand on any other hypothesis; and it should be\nnoted too that the oracle, in obedience to which his tomb was made in\nthe gateway, probably came, as the preceding context suggests, from\nDelphi, that same shrine which was responsible for the sacrifice of\nAristodemus\u2019 daughter in the Messenian war.\n\nThus there is some probability that in ancient, as in modern, Greece\nthe _genius_ was sometimes superseded by the victim offered to him,\nbut bequeathed to his successor something of his own character. The\nvictim, now become a hero, manifested himself in the old-established\nguise of a serpent, and, if we may judge from the case of Sosipolis at\nOlympia, continued to be fed with honey-cakes, the same food which had\nbeen considered the appropriate diet for the original snake-_genii_\nsuch as those dwelling in the Erechtheum. But, when once the transition\nof worship was well advanced, the power to assume serpent-form was\nnaturally extended to all tutelary heroes and even to gods; to have\nbeen sacrificed was no longer the sole qualifying condition. The hero\nCychreus went to the help of the Athenians at Salamis in the form\nof a serpent[722]. Two serpents were the incarnations of the heroes\nTrophonius and Agamedes at the oracle of Lebadea[723]. Amphiaraus was\nrepresented by a snake on the coins of Oropus. An archaic relief of the\nsixth century B.C. in the Museum of Sparta, to which Miss Harrison\nhas recently called attention, represents \u2018a male and a female figure\nseated side by side on a great throne-like chain.... Worshippers of\ndiminutive size approach with offerings--a cock and some object that\nmay be a cake, an egg, or a fruit.... It is clear that we have ...\nrepresentations of the dead, but the dead conceived of as half-divine,\nas heroized--hence their large size as compared with that of their\nworshipping descendants. They are \u03ba\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, \u201cBetter and Stronger\nOnes.\u201d The artist of the relief is determined to make his meaning\nclear. Behind the chair, equal in height to the seated figures, is a\ngreat curled snake, but a snake strangely fashioned. From the edge of\nhis lower lip hangs down a long beard, a decoration denied by nature.\nThe intention is clear; he is a _human_ snake, the vehicle, the\nincarnation of the dead man\u2019s ghost[724].\u2019\n\nIn this relief the offerings depicted also are, I think, no less\ninstructive than the bearded snake. If we may suppose that the\nsomewhat indeterminate object, cake, egg, or fruit, was intended for a\nhoney-cake, the offerings combine that which was the accustomed food of\nsnake-_genii_ in ancient times with a cock, the victim most frequently\nsacrificed to the same _genii_ at the present day.\n\nOf gods, Asclepius, perhaps because he began life as a hero, was most\nfrequently represented in serpent-form. It was in this guise that he\ncame to Sicyon, Epidaurus Limera, and Rome[725]; and in later times\nLucian tells a humorous tale of how an impostor effected by trickery a\nsupposed re-incarnation of Asclepius in snake-form before the very eyes\nof the people out of whose superstitions he made a living and indeed\na fortune[726]. Here again, if we may argue from modern custom, the\nserpent-form carried with it the traditional offering of a \u2018cock to\nAsclepius.\u2019 But other gods too had sometimes their attendant snakes,\nas had Asclepius at Epidaurus; and in every case it is likely that the\nparticular god had originally dispossessed a primitive snake-_genius_,\nbut inherited from him and retained for a time in local cults the\nform of a snake; until, as the conception of the gods became more and\nmore anthropomorphic, the snake ceased to be a manifestation of the\ngod himself and became merely his minister or his symbol. Even Zeus\nhimself, under the title of Meilichios, is proved by two reliefs found\nat the Piraeus to have been figured for a time by his worshippers as a\nsnake[727].\n\nIn many such cases doubtless the substitution of the cult of a new\nand named god for that of a primitive and nameless _genius_ explains\nadequately the incomer\u2019s inheritance and temporary retention of the\nsnake-form; but in the case of tutelary heroes, above all, the analogy\nof modern folk-lore, in which the human victim is sometimes erroneously\nelevated to the rank of guardian-_genius_, supplies, I think, the right\nclue to the process by which in ancient times the snake came to be the\nrecognised incarnation of the spirits of dead men and heroes.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe _genii_ of water, to whom we now turn, are sometimes imagined in\nthe form of dragons or of bulls, but more often by far in human or\nquasi-human shape. An exception to the general rule must of course be\nmade in the case of the _genii_ of bridges, if, as I suppose, they were\noriginally identical with the _genii_ of those rivers which the bridges\nspan; for these, as I have said, are usually dragons. But if in this\ncase there is a difference in outward appearance, there is a general\nagreement at any rate in characteristics; for the _genii_ of water are\nno less hostile to man than those who demand human sacrifice as the\nprice of their permission to build a bridge.\n\nAt Kephal\u00f3vryso in Aetolia the _genii_ of a river were described to me\nas red, grinning devils who might often be seen sitting in the bed of\nthe stream beneath the water. They were believed to mate with _Lamiae_\nwho infested several caves on the bank of the river; and together these\ntwo kinds of monster would feed on the bodies of men whom they had\ndragged into the river and drowned.\n\nBut far more frequently the _genii_ of water, and especially of wells,\nappear in the form of Arabs (\u1f08\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2), and may be seen sometimes\nsmoking long pipes in the depths. They have the power of transforming\nthemselves into any shape. At one time they assume dragon-form and\nterrorise a whole country side; at another they adopt the guise of a\nlovely maiden weeping beside a well, and, on pretence of having dropped\ninto it a ring, induce gallant and unwary men to descend to their\ndeath[728]; for when once the Arab has entrapped them in his well he\nfeeds upon them or smokes them in lieu of tobacco in his pipe.\n\nHow Arabs have come to find a place among the _genii_ of modern Greece\nis a question which must be answered in one of two ways. Either during\nthe Turkish domination of Greece the Arab slaves, who were to be found\nin every wealthy house, were suspected by the Christian population of\npossessing magical powers, and from being magicians were elevated,\nas the _Striges_ often were in mediaeval and modern Greece, to the\nrank of demons; or else they are another example of the transmutation\nof victims into _genii_. For several reasons I incline to the latter\nexplanation. First, these Arabs are most commonly associated with\nwells, and for the sinking of a well, no less than for the erection\nof a building or the opening of a quarry, a victim would naturally be\nrequired. Secondly, an animal victim is for choice of a black or dark\ncolour, and, by parity of reasoning, among human victims an Arab (or\nother man of dark colour, for the word Arab is used popularly of all\nsuch) would be preferable to a white man. Thirdly, it was reported\nfrom Zacynthos only a generation ago that a strong feeling still\nexisted there in favour of sacrificing a Mohammedan or a Jew at the\nfoundation of important bridges and other buildings[729]; and there\nis a legend of a black man having been actually immured in the bridge\nof an aqueduct near Lebadea in Boeotia[730]. Lastly, I heard from a\nshepherd belonging to Chios the story of a house in that island haunted\nby beings whom he called indifferently Arabs[731] and _vryk\u00f3lakes_. He\nhimself had been mad for eight months from the shock of seeing them,\nand four of his friends who visited the house to discover the cause of\nhis disaster were similarly afflicted. The demons were finally laid to\nrest by an old man driving a flock of goats through the house[732]. Now\n_vryk\u00f3lakes_, with whom I shall deal at length later on, are persons\nresuscitated after death who issue from their graves; and among those\nwho are predisposed to such reappearance are men who have met with a\nviolent death. The identification therefore of Arabs with _vryk\u00f3lakes_\nin this story suggests that an Arab victim sacrificed at the foundation\nof some building might become the _genius_ of it--not in this case the\nbeneficent guardian of it, but owing to his violent death a malicious\nand hurtful monster. On this evidence I incline to the view that the\nArabs who now form a class of _genii_ were originally the human victims\npreferred at the sinking of wells--a piece of engineering, it must be\nremembered, of first-rate importance in a country as dry as Greece--and\nthat, when once these _genii_ had become associated with water, the\npopular imagination soon assigned them to rivers and natural springs no\nless than to wells.\n\nThe _genii_ of rivers sometimes appear also in the shape of bulls,\nthough as I have already remarked this type of _genius_ is far more\ncommonly associated with churches. Possibly in some cases the fact\nthat the church was built in the neighbourhood of some sacred spring,\nwhose miraculous virtue was of older date and repute than Christianity,\nfirst caused the transference; but at any rate some rivers still retain\nthis type of _genius_, the type under which river gods were regularly\nrepresented in ancient times. In this connexion a story entitled\n\u2018the ox-headed man[733]\u2019 and narrated to me at Goni\u00e1 in the island of\nSantorini deserves mention.\n\nA princess and a poor girl once agreed that when they were married, if\nof their respective first-born the one should be a boy and the other\na girl, these two should be married. Now, as it chanced, princess\nand peasant-maid were both wed on the same day, but for a long time\nboth remained childless. Then at last they prayed to the Panagia, the\nprincess for a child even if it were but a girl, the peasant for a son\neven if he were but half a man; and their prayers were answered; for\nthe poor woman bore a son with the head of an ox, while the princess\nwas blest with a beautiful daughter.\n\nWhen the two children were grown up, the poor woman went one day to\nclaim the fulfilment of the agreement, and the princess, or rather now\nthe queen, went to ask her husband. He however objected to the suitor\non the grounds of personal appearance, and stipulated that he should at\nleast first perform certain feats to prove his worthiness. The first\ntask was to build a palace of pearls, the second to plant the highest\nmountain of Santorini (\u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u03bf \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03af, \u2018central mountain,\u2019 as it is locally\ncalled) with trees, and the third to border all the roads of the island\nwith flowers. For each labour one single night was the limit of time.\nBut the ox-headed man was equal to the work, and having accomplished\nit came riding on a white horse to claim his bride. The king however,\nwho had imposed these three labours in full assurance that the unseemly\nsuitor would fail, now flatly refused to abide by his promise, and the\nman retired disconsolate and disappeared none knew whither.\n\nThe young princess was much affected at the unfair treatment of her\nlover, and each day she grew more and more melancholy. But finally she\nhit upon a means of cheering herself. She proposed to her father that\nthey should leave the palace and start an inn, not for money, but for\nthe sake of the amusement to be derived from the stories and witty\nsayings of the guests. The king consented, and the inn was set up.\n\nNow one day a boy who had been fishing dropped his rod into the river,\nand having dived in after it came to a flight of stairs at the bottom.\nHaving walked down forty steps, he entered a large room where sat the\nox-headed man, who talked with him and told him that he was waiting\nthere for a princess who came not. The boy then returned without hurt,\nand on his way home had to pass the inn. Having turned in there, he\nwas asked by the princess to tell her something amusing. He replied\nhowever that he knew no stories, but would recount to her an adventure\nwhich had just befallen him. In the course of the story the princess\nrecognised that what the boy called the _genius_ of the river (\u03c4\u1f78\n\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u1f78 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6) could be no other than her lover, and having been\nstraightway conducted to the spot, found and married the ox-headed man,\nand in his palace under the river lived happily ever afterwards--\u201cbut\u201d\n(as Greek fairy-tales often end) \u201cwe here much more happily.\u201d\n\nIt is curious that Santorini of all places should be the source of\nthis story; for the island does not possess a stream. Locally however\ncertain gullies by which the island is intersected are known as rivers\n(\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03af)[734], and after unusually heavy rain they might perhaps form\ntorrents; at any rate one known as \u2018the evil river\u2019 (\u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2)\nis frequently mentioned in popular traditions as a real river. Possibly\nthe tradition is accurate; for the volcanic nature of the island\nwould readily account for the disappearance of a single stream[735].\nBut the importance of the story lies in the mention of an ox-headed\nman as _genius_ of a river. The fact that he is made the son of a\npeasant-woman need not concern us; the first part of the story is\nprobably adapted from some other folk-tale with a view to account for\nthe wooing of a princess by so ill-favoured a suitor. In the latter\npart we have a more ancient _motif_, the wedding of a mortal maid with\na river-god. If only it were mentioned in this tale that, besides the\npower of performing miraculous tasks, the bull-headed man had the\nfaculty, which modern _genii_ possess, of transforming himself into\nother shapes, we should have a complete parallel (save in the princess\u2019\nwillingness to wed) with the wooing of Deianira by the river-god\nAchelous; \u201cfor he,\u201d says she, \u201cin treble shapes kept seeking me from\nmy sire, coming now in true bull-form, now as a coiling serpent of\ngleaming hues, anon with human trunk and head of ox[736].\u201d The _genii_\nof rivers have not, it would seem, changed their forms and attributes,\nsave for the admission of Arabs to their number, from the age of\nSophocles to this day.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe third class of _genius_ which we have to notice is terrestrial,\ninhabiting mountains, rocks, caves, and any other grim and desolate\nplaces. These _genii_ are the most frequent of all, and are known\nas dragons. Not of course that all dragons are terrestrial; the\ndragon-form has already been mentioned among the forms proper to the\n_genii_ of springs and wells, and also as a shape assumed at will by\nthe Arabs who more frequently occupy those haunts. But terrestrial\n_genii_, in whatever place they make their lair--and no limit can be\nset to such places--are far most commonly pictured as dragons; and\nI have therefore preferred to speak of the dragons in general here,\nrather than among the _genii_ of either buildings or water.\n\nThe term \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2[737] indicates to the Greek peasant a\nmonster of no more determinate shape than does the word \u2018dragon\u2019 to\nourselves. The Greek word however differs, and has always differed,\nfrom the English form of it in one respect, namely that it is often\nemployed in a strict and narrow sense to denote a \u2018serpent\u2019 as\ndistinguished from a small snake (in modern Greek \u03c6\u03af\u03b4\u03b9, i.e. \u1f40\u03c6\u03af\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd,\nthe diminutive of the ancient \u1f44\u03c6\u03b9\u03c2). On the other hand, a Greek\n\u2018dragon,\u2019 in the widest sense of the term, is sometimes distinctly\nanthropomorphic in popular stories, and is made to boil kettles and\ndrink coffee without any sense of impropriety. It is in fact only from\nthe context of a story that it is possible to determine in what shape\nthe dragon is imagined; in general it is neither flesh nor fowl nor\ngood red devil; heads and tails, wings and legs, teeth and talons, are\nassigned to it in any number and variety; it breathes air and fire\nindifferently; it sleeps with its eyes open and sees with them shut;\nit makes war on men and love to women; it roars or it sings, and\nthere is little to choose between the two performances; for the lapse\nof centuries, it seems, has in no wise mellowed its voice[738]. The\nstories of the common-folk are full of these monsters\u2019 savagery and\ntreachery[739]; for it is the dragons, above all other supernatural\nbeings, who provide the wandering hero of the fairy-tales with\nbefitting adventures and tests of prowess.\n\nA common _motif_ of such stories is provided by the belief that dragons\nare the guardians of buried treasure. When a man in a dream has had\nrevealed to him the whereabouts of buried treasure, his right course\nis to go to the spot without breathing to anyone a hint of his secret,\nand there to slay a cock or other animal such as is offered at the\nlaying of foundation-stones, in order to appease the _genius_ (which\nis almost always a dragon, though an Arab is occasionally substituted)\nbefore he ventures to disturb the soil. This is the very superstition\nwhich Artemidorus had in mind when he interpreted dreams about dragons\nto denote \u2018wealth and riches, because dragons make their fixed abode\nover treasures[740].\u2019 Having complied with these conditions the digger\nmay hope to bring gold to light; but if he have previously betrayed to\nanyone his expectations or have failed to propitiate the dragon, the\nold proverb is fulfilled, \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2[741], his treasure turns\nout to be but ashes (\u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1).\n\nThe guardianship likewise of gardens wherein flow \u2018immortal waters\u2019 or\ngrows \u2018immortal fruit\u2019 is the province of dragons. In Tenos a typical\nstory concerning them is told in several versions[742]. The hero of\nthem all bears the name of \u0393\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2 or \u2018Jack\u2019 (a familiar diminutive\nof \u1f38\u03c9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2, \u2018John\u2019)--a name commonly given in Greek fairy-tales to the\nperformer of Heraclean feats. The hero who, after discovering that his\nyoungest sister is a Strigla, has fled with his mother, the queen, from\nthe palace where they were in imminent danger of being devoured[743],\ncomes to a castle occupied by forty dragons. The prince straightway\nattacks them single-handed and slays, so he thinks, all of them, but\nin reality one has only feigned to be dead and so escapes to a hole\nbeneath the castle, of which Jack now becomes the master. The remaining\ndragon however ventures forth, when the prince is gone out to the\nchase, and makes love to the queen, and after a while dragon and queen\nknowing that the prince would be incensed at their intrigue conspire to\nkill him. To this end the queen on her son\u2019s return pretends to be ill,\nand in response to his enquiries tells him that the only thing that can\nheal her is \u2018immortal water[744],\u2019 which, as her paramour, the dragon,\nknows, is to be found only in a distant garden guarded by one or more\nother dragons. The prince at once undertakes to obtain the desired\nremedy, and is directed by a witch (who in some versions appears as the\nimpersonation of his \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7 or \u2018Fortune\u2019) whither to go and how to deal\nwith the dragons. These accordingly he slays or eludes, and so returns\nhome unhurt bringing the immortal water. Then once more the dragon\nand the queen take counsel together, and the pretence of illness is\nrepeated with a demand this time for some immortal fruit or herb[745]\nknown to be guarded in the same way as the water; and once more the\nprince sets out and circumvents the dragons in some new fashion.\n\nBetween such stories and the ancient fable of Heracles\u2019 journey to\nthe land of the Hesperides in search of the golden apples, and of his\nvictory over the guardian-dragon Ladon, the connexion is self-evident.\nWhether that connexion is one of direct lineage, is less certain. More\nprobably, I think, a form of this same story was already current in an\nage to which the name of Heracles was as unknown as that of the modern\nJack; and just as the story of Peleus and Thetis became the classical\nexample of the winning of a nymph to wife by a mortal man[746], so\nthe myth, by which the exploit of bearing off wonderful fruit from the\ncustody of a dragon was numbered among the labours of Heracles, is\nnothing more than the authorised version, so to speak, of a fairy-tale\nthat might have been heard of winter-nights in Greek cottage-homes any\ntime between the Pelasgian and the present age.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nDaemons of the air, the fourth class of _genius_ which we have to\nconsider, have been acknowledged ever since the time of Hesiod and\ndoubtless from a period far anterior to that. In his theology it was\nthe lot of the first race of men in the golden age to become after\ndeath daemons \u2018clothed in air and going to and fro through all the\nworld\u2019 as good guardians of mortal men. But the goodness which Hesiod\nattributes to the _genii_ of the air was never, I suspect, an essential\ntrait in their character. In Hesiod it is a corollary of the statement\nthat they are the spirits of men who belonged to the golden age; but\nthere is no reason to suppose that the common-folk ever regarded them\nas more beneficent than other gods and daemons. At any rate at the\npresent day the \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, or _genii_ of the air, are no better disposed\ntowards mankind than any other supernatural beings.\n\nOf this class as a whole little can be said. The word \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc is\napplied to almost any apparition too vague and transient to be more\nclearly defined. It suggests something \u2018clothed in air,\u2019 something\nless tangible, less discernible, than most of the beings whom the\npeasant recognises and fears. The limits of its usage are hard to fix.\nIt may properly include a Nereid whose passing through the air is the\nwhirlwind, and it will equally certainly exclude a callicantzaros or a\ndragon. Yet even the Nereids are more substantial than the _genii_ of\nthe air in their truest form; for the assaults of Nereids upon men and\nwomen are made, as we have seen, from without[747], while _genii_ of\nthe air are more often supposed to \u2018possess\u2019 men in the same way as do\ndevils, and to be liable to exorcism.\n\nBut, if the class as a whole is too vague and shadowy in the popular\nimagination to be capable of exact description, one division of it\nis more clearly defined and has a generally acknowledged province of\nactivity. These particular a\u00ebrial _genii_ are known as Telonia (\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\nor, more rarely, \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1). They cannot claim equal antiquity with\nsome of their fellows, for they are, it would seem, a by-product of\nChristianity, with a certain accretion however of pagan superstition.\n\nThe origin of the name Telonia is not in dispute. It means frankly\nand plainly \u2018custom-houses.\u2019 Such is the bizarre materialism of the\nGreek imagination that the soul in its journeys no less than the\nbody is believed to encounter the embarrassment of custom-houses.\nAn institution which of all things mundane commands least sentiment\nand sympathy has actually found a place in popular theology. Many of\nthe people indeed at the present day, as I know from enquiry, have\nceased to connect their two usages of the word; but others accept as\nreasonable the belief that the soul in its voyage after death up from\nthe earth to the presence of God must bear the scrutiny of a\u00ebrial\ncustoms-officers.\n\nBut, apart from modern belief, the apotheosis of the _douane_ is amply\nproved by passages cited by Du Cange[748] from early Christian authors.\n\u2018Some spirits,\u2019 says one[749], \u2018have been set on the earth, and some\nin the water, and others have been set in the air, even those that\nare called \u201ca\u00ebrial customs-officers\u201d (\u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03a4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1).\u2019 Another[750]\nspeaks of \u2018the Judge and the prosecutions by the toll-collecting\nspirits.\u2019 Yet another[751] explains the belief in fuller detail: \u2018as\nmen ascend, they find custom-houses guarding the way with great care\nand obstructing the soaring souls, each custom-house examining for\none particular sin, one for deceit, another for envy, another for\nslander, and so on in order, each passion having its own inspectors\nand assessors[752].\u2019 Again a prayer for the use of the dying contains\nthe same idea: \u2018Have mercy on me, all-holy angels of God Almighty, and\nsave me from all evil Telonia, for I have no works to weigh against my\nwrong-doings[753].\u2019 Appeal in support of this belief was made even to\nthe authority of Christ as given in the words, \u2018Thou fool, this night\nthey require thy soul of thee[754],\u2019 where the commentators explained\nthe vague plural as implying some such subject as \u2018toll-collectors\u2019 or\n\u2018custom-house officers[755].\u2019\n\nBut the belief does not stop here. One does not pass the custom-houses\nof this world, or at any rate of Greece, without some expenditure\nin duty or in _douceur_; and the same apparently holds true of the\ncelestial custom-houses. Hence in some places the belief has generated\na practice, or, to speak more exactly, has breathed a new spirit\ninto the old practice of providing the dead with money. My view of\nthe origin of this practice has already been explained; I have given\nreasons for holding that the coin placed in the mouth of the dead was\nsimply a charm to prevent evil spirits from entering, or the soul from\nre-entering, into the body, and that the interpretation of the custom,\naccording to which the coin was the fee of the ferryman Charon, was of\ncomparatively late date. At the present day Charon in the _r\u00f4le_ of\nferryman is almost forgotten; but in his place the Telonia seem locally\nto have become the recipients of the fee, and the old custom has thus\nreceived a second and equally erroneous explanation.\n\nThis may have been the idea in the mind of my informant who vaguely\nsaid that a coin placed in the mouth of the dead was \u2018good because of\nthe a\u00ebrial beings[756].\u2019 If the particular a\u00ebrial beings whom he had in\nmind were the Telonia, he no doubt thought of the coin as a fee payable\nto them, though in that case it is somewhat strange that he should\nnot have used the name which actually denotes their toll-collecting\nfunctions.\n\nBut from other sources at any rate comes evidence of a less ambiguous\nkind that the idea of paying the Telonia for passage is, or has been, a\nreal motive in the minds of the peasantry. In Chios (where however the\nobject actually placed in the mouth of the dead is clearly understood\nas a precaution against a devil entering the body) it is believed\nthat the soul after death remains for forty days in the neighbourhood\nof its old habitation, the body, and then making its way to Hades\nhas to pass the Telonia. Happy the soul that makes its voyage on\nFriday, for then the activities of the Telonia (who in the conception\nof the islanders are clearly evil spirits and not, as sometimes, the\nministers of God) are restrained. But, to appease the Telonia and\nto ensure the safe passage of the soul, money is distributed to the\npoor[757]. The same usage obtains also at Sinasos in Cappadocia, and\nthere the money so distributed is actually called \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, \u2018duty paid\nat the customs[758].\u2019 The fact that in both these cases the money is\nnow given in alms instead of being buried with the body is clearly a\nresult of Christian influence; before that change was effected, it is\nreasonably likely that the widely-known practice of placing a coin in\nthe mouth of the dead was explained in some places, though erroneously,\nby the belief that the dead must pay their way through the a\u00ebrial\ncustom-houses. The term \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03ba\u03b9, \u2018passage-money,\u2019 by which, in the\nneighbourhood of Smyrna, is denoted the coin still in that district\nburied with the dead, has reference possibly to the same Telonia rather\nthan to Charon[759].\n\nAnother and wholly different aspect of the Telonia concerns the\nliving and not the dead, while it still exhibits them as true _genii_\nof the air. Any striking phenomena of the heavens at night, such as\nshooting-stars or comets, are believed to be manifestations of the\nTelonia[760]; but most dreaded of all is the phenomenon known to us\nas St Elmo\u2019s light, the flame that sometimes flickers in time of\nstorm about the mast-head and yards. This light, the Greek sailor\nthinks, portends an immediate onset of malevolent a\u00ebrial powers, whom\nhe straightway tries to scare away by every means in his power, by\ninvocation of saints and incantation against the demons, by firing of\nguns, and, best of all, by driving a black-handled knife (which is in\nthe Cyclades thought doubly efficacious if an onion has recently been\npeeled with it) into the mast. For he no longer discriminates as did\nthe Greek mariner of old; then the appearance of two such flames was\ngreeted with gladness as a manifestation of the Dioscuri, the saviours\nfrom storm and tempest, and evil was portended only if there appeared a\nsingle flame, the token of Helena[761], who wrecked as surely as her\ntwin brothers guarded; now the phenomenon in any form bodes naught but\nill. This change is probably due to Christian influences; the seaman\nno longer looks to any pagan power for succour in time of peril; he\naccounts St Nicholas his friend and saviour; and the Telonia, who in\nthis province of their activity represent the older order of deities,\nhave become by contrast man\u2019s enemies.\n\nOther vague and incorrect usages of the term Telonia are also recorded.\nSometimes it may be heard as a synonym for \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, any non-Christian\ndeities. In Myconos it is said to have been applied to the _genii_\nof springs[762]. In Athens men used to speak of Telonia of the sea,\nwho like the Callicantzari were abroad only from Christmas until the\nblessing of the waters at Twelfth-night; and during this time ships\nwere wont to be kept at anchor and secure from their attacks[763].\nA belief is also mentioned by Pouqueville[764], in a very confused\npassage, that children who die unbaptised become Telonia; but the\nstatement is corroborated by Bernhard Schmidt[765], who adduces\ninformation of the same belief existing in Zacynthos. The idea at the\nroot of it probably was that unbaptised children could not pass the\ncelestial customs, and were detained there on their road to the other\nworld in order to assist in obstructing the passage of other souls. But\nthese are local variations of the main belief, and, so far as I can\nsee, are of little importance. In general the Telonia are a species of\na\u00ebrial _genius_, and their two activities consist in the collecting of\ndues from departed souls and assaults upon mariners.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere remain only for consideration the _genii_ of human beings, or\nthe attendant spirits to whom is committed in some way the guidance of\nmen\u2019s lives. To some of them the name _genius_ (i.e. \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc) would\nhardly perhaps be extended by the peasants; but they all bear the same\nkind of relation towards men, and may therefore conveniently be grouped\ntogether for discussion.\n\nThe best example which I know of an acknowledged _genius_ attached to\na man is in a story in Hahn\u2019s collection[766], which tells of an old\nwizard whose life was bound up with that of a ten-headed snake which\nlived beneath a threshing-floor. Here the monstrous nature of the\n_genius_ is doubtless intended to match the character of the wizard;\nordinary men, unversed in magic, may have _genii_ of a less complex\npattern. Thus the snake which so commonly acts as _genius_ to a house\nis also in many cases regarded as the _genius_ of the head or some\nother member of the household. When therefore the death-struggle of any\nperson is prolonged, this is sometimes set down to the unwillingness of\nthe _genius_ to permit his death; and in extreme cases of protracted\nagony recourse has before now been had to a priest, who, entering\nthe sick man\u2019s room alone, reads a special prayer for the sufferer\u2019s\nrelease, and by virtue of this solemn office causes the house-snakes,\nwho are pagan _genii_, to burst[767]. With their disruption of course\nthe soul of the dying man is at once set free.\n\nBut the guardian spirits of whom the peasants most commonly speak\nbelong to the _personnel_ of Christian theology or demonology, and are\ntherefore not actually numbered among _genii._ These are angels, two\nof whom are allotted to each man, the one good (\u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2) and\nthe other bad (\u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2). But though the designation _genius_ is\nnot applied to them, in functions angels and _genii_ do not differ. To\nthem belongs the control of a man\u2019s life, the one guiding him in the\nway of righteousness, and the other diverting him to the pitfalls of\nvice. Their presence is ever constant, but seldom visible. Sometimes\nindeed, in stories at any rate, we hear of the good angel appearing\nto a man and rewarding him in his old age for a virtuous life[768];\nand in general men born on Saturday, \u03c3\u03b1\u03b2\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, are reputed to\nbe \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9[769] and endowed with special powers of seeing\nand dealing with the supernatural. But most commonly the power to\nsee the guardian angel is granted only to the dying, and the vision\nis a warning that the end is near. So, when the gaze of a dying man\nbecomes abstracted and fixed, they say in some places \u03b2\u03bb\u03ad\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u1f04\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03cc \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, or in one word \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b8\u03c9\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6[770], \u2018he sees his angel,\u2019 or\nagain \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9[771], \u2018he is terrified of an angel.\u2019 In these\nexpressions it is not clear which of the two angels is intended; but,\nto judge from other expressions, popular belief recognises the activity\nof the one or the other according to the peace or pain of the death.\n\u2018He is borne away by an angel,\u2019 \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9[772], suggests a quiet\npassing, as of Lazarus who was carried by the angels into Abraham\u2019s\nbosom; while the word \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6, \u2018he is fighting with an angel,\u2019 an\nexpression used in Laconia of a protracted death-struggle, and again\n\u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5[773], \u2018he was stricken by an angel,\u2019 a term which\ndenotes a sudden death, argue rather the presence of the evil angel.\n\nAnother kind of _genius_ sometimes associated with men is the \u1f34\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\n(the modern form of \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac), the \u2018shadow\u2019 personified. The phrase \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78 \u1f34\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf, \u2018he has a good shadow,\u2019 is used of a man who enjoys good\nfortune, and he himself is described sometimes as \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u0390\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2[774],\n\u2018good-shadowed,\u2019 that is, \u2018lucky.\u2019 But apparently a man may also get\ninto trouble with this shadow no less than with an angel. The word\n\u1f30\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5, \u2018he has been trampled upon by his shadow[775],\u2019 is\nused occasionally of a man who has been stricken down by some sudden,\nbut not necessarily fatal, illness such as epilepsy or paralysis.\nThis personification of the shadow as _genius_ is perhaps responsible\nin some measure for the fear which the peasant feels of having the\nfoundation-stone of a building laid upon his shadow; but, as I have\nsaid above, the principle of sympathetic magic will explain the cause\nof fear without this supposition.\n\nTo these _genii_ might reasonably be added the Fate (\u1f21 \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1 or, more\nrarely, \u1f21 \u03a4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7) of each individual. But these lesser Fates, as well as\nthe great Three, have already been discussed, and there is nothing to\nadd here save that by virtue of the close connexion of each lesser Fate\nwith the life of one man these too might be numbered among _genii_.\n\nThe same belief in a guardian-deity presiding over each human life is\nto be found throughout ancient Greek literature. In Homer the name\nfor such a _genius_ is \u039a\u1f74\u03c1 (at any rate if it be of an evil sort),\nin later writers \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd--both of them vague terms which embrace\nother kinds of deities as well, yet not so vague but that with the\naid of context we can readily discover in them the equivalent of the\n\u2018guardian-angel\u2019 or other modern _genius_. From Homer onwards the word\n\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd is regularly used of the allotment of each human life from\nthe moment of birth to one of these guardians, and the belief in their\nattendance upon men throughout, and even after, life seems to have had\ngeneral acceptance. In the _Iliad_ the wraith of Patroclus is made\nto speak of the hateful _Ker_ to whom he was allotted at the hour of\nbirth[776], and the _Ker_ here mentioned is not, I think, merely fate\nin the abstract but as truly a person as that baneful _Ker_ of battle\nand carnage \u2018who wore about her shoulders a robe red with the blood of\nheroes[777].\u2019 After Homer the word \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd is preferred, but there is\nno change in the idea. The famous saying of Heraclitus, \u1f26\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u1ff3\n\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd, \u2018the god that guides man\u2019s lot is character,\u2019 is in no wise\ndark, but Plato throws even clearer light upon the popular belief in\nguardian-_daemons_. \u2018It is said that at each man\u2019s death his _daemon_,\nthe _daemon_ to whom he had been allotted for his lifetime, has the\ntask of guiding him to some appointed place[778],\u2019 where the souls of\nmen must assemble for judgement. Here the words \u2018it is said\u2019 indicate\nthe popular source of the doctrine; and this is confirmed by another\npassage in which Plato[779] protests against the fatalism involved in\nthe allotment of souls to particular _daemons_, and prefers to hold\nthat the soul may choose its own guardian. Again in a fragment of\nMenander there is a simple statement of the belief in a form which robs\nfatalism of its gloom:\n\n    Beside each man a daemon takes his stand\n    E\u2019en at his birth-hour, through life\u2019s mysteries\n    A guide right good[780].\n\nBut there were others who did not take so cheerful a view, at any rate\nof their own guardian-deities; \u2018alas for the most cruel _daemon_ to\nwhom I am allotted[781]\u2019 is a complaint of a type by no means rare in\nGreek literature, and the word \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd came as readily as \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd\nto men\u2019s lips[782].\n\nFrom these passages it is evident that in general each man was believed\nto have one, and only one, attendant _genius_, and his happiness or\nmisery to depend on the character of the guardian allotted to him by\nfate. But sometimes this injustice of destiny was obviated by a belief\nsimilar to the modern belief in both good and bad angels in attendance\non each man. The comment of Servius on Vergil\u2019s line, \u2018Quisque suos\npatimur manes[783],\u2019 sets forth this view: \u2018when we are born two\n_Genii_ are allotted to us, one who exhorts us to good, the other who\nperverts us to evil.\u2019\n\nAs in modern so in ancient times these _genii_ were rarely visible to\nthe men whom they guarded. The _genius_ of Socrates, which, like those\nof other men past and present, had been, so he held, divinely appointed\nto wait upon him from his childhood onward[784], spoke to him indeed\nin a voice which he could hear[785] (just perhaps as the priestess of\nDelphi heard the voice of Apollo[786]), but ever remained unseen.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[107] Pindar, _Nem._ VI. 1\n\n    \u1f13\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd, \u1f13\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7 \u1f10\u03ba \u03bc\u03b9\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bd\u03ad\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\n    \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u00b7 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\n    \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.\n\nThe opening phrase is often, even usually, translated \u2018one is the race\nof men, another the race of gods.\u2019 Whether \u1f13\u03bd ... \u1f13\u03bd was ever used\nin Greek for \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf ... \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf, I doubt; but even if it be possible, the\nemphasis \u1f13\u03bd ... \u1f13\u03bd ... \u1f72\u03ba \u03bc\u03b9\u1fb6\u03c2 must to my mind be an emphasis upon\nunity, and the first mention of divergence comes equally strongly in\n\u03b4\u03b9\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72....\n\n[108] Stobaeus, _Sentent._ p. 279, \u03a0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u0398\u03b1\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6 ... \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03bd,\n\u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f25\u03c1\u03c9\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[109] For dialectic variations of the form, see Schmidt, _Das\nVolksleben der Neugr._ p. 91.\n\n[110] I. _Cor._ v. 12, I. _Tim._ iii. 7, and elsewhere.\n\n[111] Basil III. 944 A (Migne, _Patrol. Graec._ vol. XXIX.).\n\n[112] Pouqueville, _Voyage de la Gr\u00e8ce_, I. p. 319, writes \u2018Pagania.\u2019\n\n[113] In Andros the word is used (in the singular \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc) to denote\nan unbaptised child. Cf. \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u039c\u03b7\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f59\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u039a\u03c5\u03ba\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u1ff6\u03bd,--\u1f0c\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u039a\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2, p. 45.\n\n[114] _op. cit._ p. 92, referring to Du Cange, \u03c4\u03b6\u03af\u03bd\u03b1 = fraus, p. 1571.\n\n[115] \u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, II. p. 122.\n\n[116] Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 97.\n\n[117] _Relation de ce qui s\u2019est pass\u00e9 de plus remarquable \u00e0 Sant-Erini,\nisle de l\u2019Archipel, depuis l\u2019etablissement des P\u00e8res de la Compagnie de\nJesus en icelle_ (Paris, 1657), p. 192 ff.\n\n[118] See below, pp. 255 ff.\n\n[119] See below, pp. 284-7.\n\n[120] Cf. Hesych. \u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b4\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2 = \u03c6\u03bf\u03b2\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2,\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2; and \u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 = \u03bb\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1, \u1fe5\u03ce\u03bc\u03b7, \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f45\u03c1\u03bc\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1.\n\n[121] Bybilakis, _Neugriechisches Leben_, p. 16, and in the periodical\n\u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, IV. p. 517.\n\n[122] _op. cit._ p. 92.\n\n[123] Steph. _Thesaur._ s.v.\n\n[124] \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd, anno 1861, p. 1851, quoted by Schmidt, _loc.\ncit._\n\n[125] Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 92.\n\n[126] _Ibid._\n\n[127] Zenob. _Cent._ III. 3. Cf. Hesych. and Suidas, s.v. \u0393\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ce.\n\n[128] Cf. Leo Allatius, _de quor. Graec. opin._ cap. III. _ad fin._,\nquoting Mich. Psellus, \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c1\u03ad\u03c6\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u1fb6\u03bd \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\n\u1f51\u03b3\u03c1\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n[129] Artemidorus, _Oneirocritica_, Bk II. cap. 9, p. 90.\n\n[130] _Ibid._ p. 91.\n\n[131] Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugr._ p. 33.\n\n[132] Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_, etc. p. 131.\n\n[133] Soutzos, _Hist. de la R\u00e9volution Grecque_, p. 158. Cf. Schmidt,\n_Das Volksleben_, p. 27.\n\n[134] Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_, etc. no. XI.\n\n[135] Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 135.\n\n[136] \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1 (periodical) XVI. p. 538, \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5 \u039d\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1 \u03bd\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7.\n\n[137] B. Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_, etc. no. XX.\n\n[138] Plutarch, _de defect. orac._ 17.\n\n[139] _Idyll._ I. 15.\n\n[140] _Ps._ 91. 6.\n\n[141] _De quorumdam Graecorum opinationibus_, cap. VIII.\n\n[142] Du Cange, _Lex. med. et infim. Latin_, s.v.\n\n[143] Clarke, _Catalogue of Sculptures in Fitzwilliam Museum,\nCambridge_.\n\n[144] The population of Eleusis, as of many villages in Attica,\nis mainly Albanian; but they have inherited many of the old Greek\nsuperstitions and customs.\n\n[145] Lenormant, _Monographie de la voie sacr\u00e9e \u00e9leusinienne_, p. 399\nff.\n\n[146] \u201cThe diminutive in Albanian of Nicolas is Kolio: in the choice of\nthis name is there not a reminiscence of that of Celeus?\u201d--so Lenormant\nin a note. The suggestion does not appear to me very probable.\n\n[147] Opposite Eleusis in Salamis.\n\n[148] Euseb. _Chron._ p. 27. Plut. _Vita Thes._ XXXI. _ad fin._\n\n[149] Paus. VIII. 15.\n\n[150] Conon, _Narrat._ 15.\n\n[151] _Tour through Greece_, II. p. 440.\n\n[152] _Travels in the Morea_, III. p. 148.\n\n[153] Paus. VIII. 42. 1-4, and 25. 5.\n\n[154] Schol. in Ar. _Ran._ 441. Aelian, _Hist. Anim._ X. 16.\n\n[155] Frazer, _Golden Bough_, II. 44 ff. (2nd edit.).\n\n[156] Herod. II. 171.\n\n[157] Aelian, _l.c._\n\n[158] Herod. II. 47. Plut. _Isis et Osiris_, 8 (Moral. 354). Aelian,\n_l.c._\n\n[159] _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. Song no. 56.\n\n[160] Above, p. 53.\n\n[161] Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. no. VII.\n\n[162] Paus. VIII. 42. 1 ff.\n\n[163] Paus. VIII. 42. 2.\n\n[164] Schuchhardt, _Schliemann\u2019s Excavations_ (tr. Sellers), p. 296.\n\n[165] _Ibid._\n\n[166] Paus. II. 22. 1.\n\n[167] _op. cit._ p. 147.\n\n[168] _op. cit._ p. 302.\n\n[169] Schuchhardt, _op. cit._ p. 151, and Leaf\u2019s introduction, p.\nXXVII. Cf. Frazer in _Journal of Philology_, XIV. 145 ff.\n\n[170] Schuchhardt, _op. cit._ p. 151.\n\n[171] _op. cit._ p. 303.\n\n[172] Frazer in _Journal of Philology_, XIV. pp. 145 ff.\n\n[173] Paus. I. 18. 3.\n\n[174] _Id._ IX. 36.\n\n[175] _Iliad_ IX. 404-5.\n\n[176] _Griech. und Albanesische M\u00e4rchen_, nos. 63 and 97.\n\n[177] \u2018die Sch\u00f6ne der Erde\u2019 in von Hahn\u2019s translation. Unfortunately\nthe original does not appear in Pio\u2019s \u039d\u03b5\u03bf\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1, for which\nthe MSS. of von Hahn provided the material.\n\n[178] Cf. Plut. _Vita Thes._ 31, _ad fin._\n\n[179] For references see Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugr._ p. 222.\n\n[180] Passow, _Popul. Carm. Graeciae recentioris_. Carm. no. 408.\n\n[181] \u03a7\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f74 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f2c\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, p. 169.\n\n[182] Passow, _op. cit._ no. 423.\n\n[183] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, p. 290.\n\n[184] Bernhard Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. p. 81.\n\n[185] Kindly communicated to me by Mr G. F. Abbott, author of\n_Macedonian Folklore_.\n\n[186] B. Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. Song no. 39.\n\n[187] Cf. Passow, no. 428.\n\n[188] _Ibid._ no. 430.\n\n[189] Above, p. 53.\n\n[190] _e.g._ Passow, no. 427.\n\n[191] Cf. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 230.\n\n[192] This expression which I have heard several times is not noticed\nby Schmidt or Polites. They give, however, \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018he is being\nstricken by an angel,\u2019 and other phrases meaning to see, to fear, to\nbe carried away by, an angel, all in the same sense. See Schmidt, _op.\ncit._ 181, and \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. 308.\n\n[193] \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. The word expresses the relationship in which a\ngodfather stands to the parents of his godson.\n\n[194] This story, as I have told it, is not a literal translation, for\nI could not take down the original. But notes which I set down after\nhearing it enable me to reproduce it in a form which certainly contains\nthe whole substance and many actual phrases of the version which I\nheard.\n\n[195] Probably meaning the brigand\u2019s \u2018comrades.\u2019 The term \u03be\u03b5\u03c6\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9,\n\u2018hawk,\u2019 is commonly so applied.\n\n[196] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _op. cit._ p. 246 (from \u039b\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u0394\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4. \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03bb. p. 57).\n\n[197] _e.g._ Passow, _Popul. Carm._ nos. 426-429.\n\n[198] \u03a3\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, vol. III. p. 48. Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _op. cit._\np. 239.\n\n[199] The word for \u2018black\u2019 includes the sense of \u2018grim,\u2019 \u2018gloomy,\u2019\n\u2018sorrowful.\u2019 Tears are commonly described as \u2018black,\u2019 \u03bc\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03b1.\n\n[200] Passow, _op. cit._ distich no. 1155.\n\n[201] Cf. Passow, no. 408.\n\n[202] Cf. Passow, nos. 414, 415, 417.\n\n[203] Passow, no. 424.\n\n[204] Aesch. _Eum._ 237.\n\n[205] Fauriel, _Chants populaires de la Gr\u00e8ce Moderne, Discours\npr\u00e9liminaire_, p. 85.\n\n[206] Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. Song no. 38.\n\n[207] _Ibid._ no. 37.\n\n[208] Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. Song no. 7.\n\n[209] _Das Volksleben_, p. 237.\n\n[210] _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. Song no. 10.\n\n[211] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 272.\n\n[212] Passow, no. 371.\n\n[213] \u1f38\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4. \u1f00\u03c3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, p. 17. Cf. Schmidt, _op. cit._\np. 236.\n\n[214] So in some districts of Macedonia up to the present day; Abbott,\n_Macedonian Folklore_, p. 193.\n\n[215] \u03a0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c2, p. 14. The form \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\nwhich the writer gives can hardly be popular. It might be, as Schmidt\npoints out, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03ba\u03b9\u03bd in the local dialect. I have given the form which\nthe word would assume in most districts.\n\n[216] \u03a3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03b4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2 in the periodical \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, XI. p. 449. Cf. Schmidt,\n_op. cit._ p. 238.\n\n[217] \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03ad\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u00a7 10.\n\n[218] For this term see above, p. 68, and below, p. 283.\n\n[219] Below, p. 285.\n\n[220] See above, p. 13.\n\n[221] Passow, no. 432.\n\n[222] This is shown later to be the first form of the superstition. See\nbelow, pp. 433-4.\n\n[223] Newton, _Travels and Discoveries in the Levant_, I. p. 289 (cited\nby Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 239).\n\n[224] The use of the coin, quite apart from any such variation of the\ncustom, was forbidden by several councils of the Church between the 4th\nand 7th centuries, cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 etc. p. 269.\n\n[225] Cf. Ricaud, _Annales des conciles g\u00e9n\u00e9raux et particuliers_\n(1773), vol. I. p. 654 (from \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 269).\n\n[226] According to Bent (_Cyclades_, p. 363) the object used thus in\nNaxos is a wax cross with the initial letters \u0399. \u03a7. \u039d. engraved upon\nit, and it still bears the old name \u03bd\u03b1\u1fe6\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, \u2018fare.\u2019\n\n[227] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, pp. 335 and 339.\n\n[228] Newton, _Travels and Discoveries in the Levant_, I. p. 212. The\nexact details of the custom in each place are given below, p. 406.\n\n[229] See below, pp. 433-4.\n\n[230] In Rhodes, according to Newton, _l.c._, the Christian symbol \u0399.\n\u03a7. \u039d. \u039a. is combined with that to which I now come, the \u2018pentacle.\u2019\n\n[231] Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. 573, where it is said that in Myconos\nthe symbol is sometimes carved on house doors to keep _vrykolakes_ (on\nwhich see below, cap. IV.) from troubling the inmates at night.\n\n[232] Cf. Lucian, \u1f51\u03c0\u1f72\u03c1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, 5.\n\n[233] apud Pausan. x. 28. 1.\n\n[234] _e.g._ Eur. _Alc._ 252, 361, _Heracl._ 432, Arist. _Ran._ 184\nff., _Lysistr._ 606, _Plut._ 278.\n\n[235] Suidas s.v.\n\n[236] Pollux, 8, 102.\n\n[237] Pollux, 4, 132.\n\n[238] Strabo, 579.\n\n[239] _Ibid._ 636\n\n[240] _Ibid._ 649.\n\n[241] Plut. _Anton._ 16.\n\n[242] \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, s.v.\n\n[243] Eur. _Alc._ 48, 49.\n\n[244] _Ibid._ 74-6.\n\n[245] _Ibid._ 1141-2.\n\n[246] _Ibid._ 50.\n\n[247] Codex Vaticanus, no. 909. Cf. Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 223,\nwhence the majority of these references are borrowed.\n\n[248] VII. 603 and 671; XI. 133. Cf. Schmidt, _l.c._\n\n[249] s.v.\n\n[250] Gerhard, _die Gottheiten der Etrusker_, p. 56; M\u00fcller, _die\nEtrusker_, II. 102.\n\n[251] Ambrosch, _de Charonte Etrusco_, pp. 2, 3.\n\n[252] _Ibid._ p. 8.\n\n[253] _Ibid._ pp. 4-7; and Maury in _Revue Arch\u00e9ologique_, I. 665, and\nIV. 791.\n\n[254] _Annuaire de l\u2019Association pour l\u2019encouragement des \u00e9tudes\ngrecques en France_, no. VIII. (1874), p. 392 ff.\n\n[255] Both fortifications and well are actual features of Acro-Corinth\nup to the present day.\n\n[256] Pausan. I. 37, _ad fin._; Perrot, _l.c._ Cf. Frazer, _Pausanias_,\nII. 497.\n\n[257] _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. _Introduction_, p. 35.\n\n[258] Cf. Bursian, _Geographie von Griechenland_, II. p. 17.\n\n[259] Vr\u00e9to, _M\u00e9lange N\u00e9o-hellenique_.\n\n[260] Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_ etc. nos. 16-18.\n\n[261] _Ibid._ p. 113 (note 2).\n\n[262] See below, p. 165.\n\n[263] _Orph. Hymns_, 57 (58), 2.\n\n[264] _Orph. Hymns_, 55, 8. \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c1\u03ce\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd. For representations in\nancient art of many \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, cf. Philostr. _Eikones_, p. 383 (770).\n\n[265] See above, p. 57.\n\n[266] Tzetzes, _Schol. on Lycophron_, 406.\n\n[267] Pausan. _I._ 19. 2. Cf. _C. I. G._ no. 1444, and Orph. Hymn, 55\n(54), 4.\n\n[268] Apparently the old subterranean passage by which competitors\nentered the stadium.\n\n[269] Mentioned by Pouqueville, _Voyage en Gr\u00e8ce_, V. p. 67, and\nconfirmed by many other writers.\n\n[270] Pausan. X. 38. 6.\n\n[271] Pouqueville, _op. cit._ IV. p. 46.\n\n[272] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, I. p. 222, III. p. 156.\n\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 227.\n\n[273] Dodwell, _Tour through Greece_, I. 397.\n\n[274] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._\n\n[275] _l.c._\n\n[276] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. I. p. 222.\n\n[277] Cf. \u1f26\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03c4\u03cc \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018It was my written lot,\u2019 i.e. destiny, and\nother similar phrases cited by Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 212, and\n\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, pp. 218, 219.\n\n[278] _Choeph._ 464-5, which the Scholiast annotates thus, \u03c0\u03ad\u03c0\u03b7\u03b3\u03b5\n\u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f65\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u039a\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.\n\n[279] I regret to say that I cannot trace the source of this story.\nI incline to think that I took it from some publication, but it is\npossible that it was narrated to me personally.\n\n[280] Except in Zacynthos, according to Schmidt (_Volksleben_, p. 211),\nwhere they number twelve.\n\n[281] Schmidt, _Volksleben_, p. 220.\n\n[282] _Chants populaires de la Gr\u00e8ce moderne, Discours pr\u00e9liminaire_,\np. 83.\n\n[283] According to Bent (_Cyclades_, pp. 292 and 437), the name Erinyes\nis still applied by the people of Andros and of Kythnos to the evil\nspirits who cause consumption.\n\n[284] So Pouqueville, _Voyage de la Gr\u00e8ce_, VI. p. 160.\n\n[285] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd., III. pp. 67, 68.\n\n[286] Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 218.\n\n[287] The visit of the Fate on the day of birth instead of the third\nday after is unusual.\n\n[288] From \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. I. pp. 310, 311.\n\n[289] Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 212.\n\n[290] Cf. \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 of the \u2018destined\u2019 bridegroom, in Hom. _Od._ XVI. 392.\n\n[291] Cf. Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_,\npp. 286 ff.\n\n[292] Passow, no. 385.\n\n[293] Heuzey, _Le mont Olympe_, p. 139. I have introduced a few\nalterations of spelling, mostly suggested by Schmidt, _das Volksleben_,\np. 229 (note), _e.g._ \u03c4\u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6 for \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6, in order to restore the\nrather rough metre.\n\n[294] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (\u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 228, note 1) gives the following\nreferences: Wordsworth, _Athens and Attica_, p. 228; \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd,\n1868, p. 1479; Passow, _Popul. Carm._ p. 431, besides those to which I\nhave referred in other notes.\n\n[295] _Persae_, 659.\n\n[296] VII. 218.\n\n[297] \u03a0\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, who recorded this version in \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae, no. 30\n(1852), p. 653, spelt the word erroneously \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03b2\u03bf; the sound of \u03bf\u03b9 and\n\u03c5 being identical in modern Greek, I have substituted the latter.\n\n[298] _Theog._ 217 and 904.\n\n[299] _Theog._ 217.\n\n[300] _Prom. Vinct._ 516 ff.\n\n[301] Leo Allatius (_de quorumdam Graec. opinationibus_, cap. xx.)\nquotes from Mich. Psellus (11th century) the ancient form \u039d\u03b7\u03c1\u03b7\u0390\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2\nas then in use. He himself (_ibid._ cap. xix.) employs the form\n\u039d\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 which was probably the dialectic form of his native Chios.\nBern. Schmidt (_Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, pp. 98-9) has brought\ntogether a large number of variants now in use, in which the accent\nfluctuates between the \u03b1 and the \u03b9, the first vowel is indifferently \u03b1,\n\u03b5 or \u03b7, the two consecutive vowels \u03b1\u03ca are sometimes contracted to \u1fb3,\nsometimes more distinctly separated by the faintly pronounced letter \u03b3,\nand lastly an euphonetic \u03b1 is occasionally prefixed to the word. Hence\nforms as widely distinct as \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u1fb7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 and \u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 often occur. Du\nCange, it may be added, gives the form \u039d\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 (with interchange of\nthe \u03c1 and the inserted \u03b3); but since his information is seemingly drawn\nentirely from Leo Allatius, there is reason to regard it as merely his\nown error in transcribing \u039d\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n[302] An attempt has been made by one authority on the folk-lore of\nAthens (\u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, I. pp. 218 and 222), to\ndistinguish \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 from \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2. He maintains that in Athens the\nlatter were never regarded as maleficent beings, and must therefore be\ndistinguished from the dread \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, whom he seeks to identify,\non no better ground than the euphemistic name, with the Eumenides. A\nfolk-story, however, which he himself records (_ibid._ p. 319), how a\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac was married to a prince, whose eyes she had blinded to all\nother women, and how after living with him for a while she disappeared\nfinally in a whirlwind, reveals in her all the usual traits of a\nNereid, and thus defeats the writer\u2019s previous contention. But apart\nfrom this a little enquiry on the subject outside the limits of Athens\nwould have set at rest his doubts as to the identity of the two. It is\nquite possible that formerly in Athens, as now elsewhere, it was usual\nto employ the euphemism \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 in referring to the Nereids in\ntheir more mischievous moods; only in that way can I explain his idea\nthat the Nereids were never maleficent.\n\n[303] Cf. Passow, _Distich_ 692; Pashley, _Travels in Crete_, vol. II.\np. 233; \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, XIV. p. 566; Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 104.\n\n[304] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 105.\n\n[305] The latter is quoted by Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 106,\nfrom the dialect of Arachova near Delphi.\n\n[306] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _l. c._; Bybilakis, _Neugriechisches Leben_,\np. 13.\n\n[307] Pind. _Nem._ V. 36.\n\n[308] Hom. _Od._ 13. 102 ff.\n\n[309] Cf. e.g. Passow, _Popularia Carmina_, Distichs 552-3.\n\n[310] Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, vol. I. no. 15. \u2018Ihre ganze Kraft steckt\naber in den Kleidern, und wenn man ihnen die wegnimmt, so sind sie\nmachtlos.\u2019\n\n[311] To form a chain of dancers the leader, who occupies the extreme\nright, is linked to the second in the row by a kerchief, while the rest\nmerely join hands. More freedom of motion is thus allowed to the chief\nperformer.\n\n[312] Cf. also Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, vol. II. no. 77. \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4.\n\u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 123.\n\n[313] The crowing of the third cock is more usually the signal for the\ndeparture of Nereids and their kind. It is commonly held that the white\ncock crows first, the red second, and the black third. The last is a\nsure saviour from the assaults of all manner of demons.\n\n[314] Similar transformations occur in a Cretan story, the forms\nassumed being those of dog, snake, camel, and fire. \u03a7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03cd\u03b6\u03b7\u03c2,\n\u039a\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, p. 69.\n\n[315] Cf. Apollodorus, III. 13. 5.\n\n[316] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 104, quoting Ritschl, _Ino\nLeucothea_, Pl. I., II. (1 and 2), III.; and referring to a sarcophagus\nin the Corsini Gallery at Rome, figured in _Monum. Ined._ vol. VI. Pl.\nXXVI.\n\n[317] Hom. _Od._ 5. 346 sqq. and 459 sqq.\n\n[318] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 123.\n\n[319] The women of Scopelos on certain festal occasions wear a dress\nwhich may well be the same as the classical \u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, a loose\npleated robe falling from the shoulders and widening as it falls, so\nthat their figures resemble a fluted column too broad at the base and\ntoo tapering at the top.\n\n[320] Hahn, _Griechische M\u00e4rchen_, vol. II. no. 83. \u03a7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03cd\u03b6\u03b7\u03c2,\n\u039a\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, p. 69.\n\n[321] Cf. a folk-song quoted by Ross, _Reisen auf Inseln_, III. p. 180,\n\n    \u03a3\u1f72 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03b2\u1fc7\u03c2, \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03b2\u1fc3\u03c2,\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03b6\u1fc3\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9,\n    \u03ba\u1fc2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b8\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6 \u2019\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u1fb7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2,\n\n\u2018Go not up to the solitary tree, go not down to the lowlands, beside\nthe torrent above play not thy pipes, lest the Nereids of the stream\ncome and swarm thick about thee.\u2019\n\n[322] Lexicon, s.v. \u1fe5\u03ac\u03bc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\n(\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u1fc3) \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[323] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, III. p. 32.\n\n[324] Cf. Welcker, _Kleine Schriften_, 3. 197-9; Rohde, _Psyche_, I. p.\n360, note 1.\n\n[325] Cf. Hom. _Od._ XI. 48 ff. and Eustathius, _ad loc._\n\n[326] \u0396. \u0394. \u0393\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u1fb6\u03c2, \u1f29 \u03bd\u1fc6\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03a6\u03bf\u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, p. 29.\n\n[327] _Reisen auf Inseln_, etc. III. pp. 181-2.\n\n[328] _C.I.G._, no. 6201 (from Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, etc. p.\n122 note). \u03a4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u00b7 \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd | \u1f25\u03c1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\n\u1f61\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bd\u1f74\u03bd \u039d\u03b1\u0390\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f50 \u0398\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[329] \u1f18\u03bc. \u039c\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 129. There are also compounds\n\u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 and \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 with the same meaning.\n\n[330] Plato, _Phaedr._ XV. (238 D).\n\n[331] _Ibid._ 229 A, B; 230 B; 242 A; 279 B.\n\n[332] Cf. Leo Allatius, _De quor. Graec. opin._ cap. xx. \u2018potissimum si\nfluentis aquarum solum irrigetur.\u2019\n\n[333] To this belief I attribute the origin of the phrase \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u03b7\u1f57\u03c1\u03b5, \u2018an (evil) hour overtook him\u2019 (Leo Allatius, _op. cit._ xix.),\nemployed euphemistically in reference to \u2018seizure\u2019 by the Nereids, and\nof the kindred imprecation, \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f74 \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bd\u03ac \u03c3\u2019 \u03b5\u1f55\u03c1\u1fc3, \u2018may an evil hour\novertake you\u2019 (Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 97), which gains in force\nand elegance by its reversal of an ordinary phrase of leave-taking, \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae.\n\n[334] See above, p. 79.\n\n[335] Leo Allatius, _op. cit._ xix.\n\n[336] From Epirus, Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 120. See above, p. 142,\nnote 2.\n\n[337] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 120.\n\n[338] I. p. 473 (Migne, _Patrolog. Graeco-Lat._ vol. XCIV. p. 1604).\n\n[339] See above, p. 13.\n\n[340] Cf. Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, Vol. II. no. 80.\n\n[341] _The Cyclades_, p. 457.\n\n[342] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 369.\n\n[343] \u1f21 \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5. Cf. the periodical \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2 IV. p. 773, and\nWachsmuth, _Das alte Griechenland im Neuen_, p. 30. See also below, pp.\n171 ff.\n\n[344] _Histoire de la R\u00e9volution grecque_, p. 228 note.\n\n[345] Hor. _Carm._ III. 28. 10.\n\n[346] \u1f38. \u03a3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f29 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 90.\n\n[347] \u0395\u1f50\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03af\u03b1 \u039a. \u039a\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u039b\u03b1\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1, pp. 43 sqq.\n\n[348] Cf. \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, IV. p. 669 (1880).\n\n[349] So according to Theodore Bent (_Cyclades_, p. 496) but perhaps\ninaccurately.\n\n[350] So Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 101, following \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 in\n\u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd, 1861, p. 1826; and Bent, _loc. cit._\n\n[351] In this view Prof. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 of Athens University, whom I\nconsulted, concurs with me.\n\n[352] Cf. \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, IV. p. 669, \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 97.\n\n[353] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, etc. p. 101.\n\n[354] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, I. p. 223.\n\n[355] Travels in Crete, II. pp. 232-4.\n\n[356] I cannot vouch for the accuracy of my translation of this word,\nwhich I have never seen or heard elsewhere.\n\n[357] Cf. Leo Allatius, _op. cit._ cap. xix.\n\n[358] Cf. \u1f38\u03bf\u03bd. \u1f08\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1, III. p. 509. Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, vol.\nII. no. 81.\n\n[359] _C.I.G._ no. 997 (from Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 122 note).\n\n[360] \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, IV. p. 765. The origin of the second part of the\ncompound is unknown.\n\n[361] \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74 \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03c2, 1852, p. 647.\n\n[362] Cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, III. p. 156.\n\n[363] Theotokis, _D\u00e9tails sur Corfou_, p. 123.\n\n[364] Theocr. _Id._ v. 53-4 and 58-9.\n\n[365] Kindly communicated to me by Mr Abbott, author of _Macedonian\nFolklore_.\n\n[366] Hom. _Od._ XIII. 105-6.\n\n[367] See Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena to the study of Greek Religion_,\np. 423.\n\n[368] \u039f\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c2, p. 768.\n\n[369] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 131 and \u03a3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u039b\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019\n\u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b3\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c3\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2, s.v. \u03b4\u03c1\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2.\n\n[370] \u03a3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03b4\u03af\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2, in \u03a0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\u03b1, XI. p. 472; cf. Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._\np. 130.\n\n[371] Cited by Bern. Schmidt, _ibid._ from \u0392\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2, \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd. \u1f29\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb. 1863,\np. 55. This reference I have been unable to verify.\n\n[372] In Macedonia.\n\n[373] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 359.\n\n[374] Wachsmuth in _Rhein. Mus._ 1872.\n\n[375] _Orph. Hymns_, 36 (35), 12.\n\n[376] Alexis, _Fragm. Fab. Incert._ 69.\n\n[377] Verg. _Georg._ IV. 336.\n\n[378] Tzetzes, _Lycophron_, 536.\n\n[379] _ibid._ 522.\n\n[380] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f29 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 85.\n\n[381] \u1f18\u03bc. \u039c\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 189. In Carpathos however the\nthree middle and three last days of August are added.\n\n[382] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 131.\n\n[383] \u03a3\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, vol. I. p. 710.\n\n[384] Theodore Bent (_Cyclades_, p. 174) says that the word \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\nis used in Sikinos to mean actually the sores on limbs, and in other\nislands the holes in linen caused by washing during Aug. 1-6. But as\nhe appears to have been unaware that \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 usually means the days\nthemselves, I question the accuracy of his statement.\n\n[385] \u03a3\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, I. p. 710, who derives the word from \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2\nand \u0391(\u1f54\u03b3)\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[386] Anthol. Palat. VI. 189.\n\n[387] Verg. _Georg._ IV. 383.\n\n[388] \u03a3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03b4\u03af\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2, in \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, XI. p. 472.\n\n[389] I give both these words as I received them, but cannot account\nfor the abnormal accents. \u1f0c\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 and either \u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c2 or\n\u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 would be usual. As regards the whole form \u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, it\ncannot I think be a dialectic change of \u0391\u1f54\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, but is probably a\npun upon it with reference to the custom of not washing during the\nfirst days of the month.\n\n[390] \u03a3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u039b\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, s.v. \u03b4\u03c1\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2.\n\n[391] Modern \u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9, ancient \u03c0\u03c1\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[392] Hesiod, _Fragm. apud_ Plutarch. _De Orac. Defect._ p. 415.\n\n[393] Cf. also Schol. _ad_ Apoll. Rhod. II. 479, where Mnesimachus is\nquoted for the same opinion.\n\n[394] _O. T._ 1099.\n\n[395] _Nat. Hist._ IX. cap. 5.\n\n[396] _Lycophron_, 480.\n\n[397] _Hom. Hymns_, III. 256 sqq.\n\n[398]\n\n    \u1f11\u03c3\u03c4\u1fb6\u03c3\u2019 \u1f20\u03bb\u03af\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u00b7 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03b4\u03ad \u1f11 \u03ba\u03b9\u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\n    \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\u00b7 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03ae\u03c1\u1ff3.\n\nThese two lines (267-8) have fallen under suspicion because, it is\nurged, the word \u1f00\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd is in direct contradiction of what has been\nsaid as to the intermediate position of nymphs between mortals and\nimmortals. This criticism is due to careless reading. The lines do not\nmean that each tree is called the \u03c4\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 of an immortal nymph, but\nthat a number of trees, each inhabited by a nymph, often form together\nthe \u03c4\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 of an immortal god. A sanctuary of Artemis, for example,\nmight well be surrounded by trees which each harboured one of her\nattendant nymphs.\n\n[399] Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, II. no. 84. Cf. also no. 58.\n\n[400] \u03a7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03cd\u03b6\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, pp. 69, 70.\n\n[401] This belief however is not universal in Greece; in some few\ndistricts a Nereid now, like a wolf in ancient times, is safer seen\nfirst than seeing first.\n\n[402] Apoll. Rhod. _Argon._ II. 477 sqq.\n\n[403] i.e. past participle passive of \u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9 (anc. \u03be\u03b7\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9).\n\n[404] Hom. _Od._ XIII. 103-4.\n\n[405] _De quorumdam Graec. opinat._ cap. xix.\n\n[406] _Id._ XIII. 39 sqq.\n\n[407] So I translate \u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd on the authority of a muleteer whom I\nhired at Olympia; the modern form is \u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9. It may be added that in\nGreece the cuckoo-flower is often of a dark enough shade to justify the\nepithet \u03ba\u03c5\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[408] Artem. _Oneirocr._ II. 27.\n\n[409] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 102. \u03a7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03cd\u03b6\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, p. 69.\n\u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f39\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, II. p. 122.\n\n[410] Inscription on rock at entrance now barely legible. Cf. Paus. X.\n32. 5, Strabo IX. 3, Aesch. _Eum._ 22.\n\n[411] Cf. Ulrichs, _Reisen und Forschungen in Griechenland_, I. p. 119,\nBern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 103.\n\n[412] Heuzey, _Le mont Olympe et l\u2019Acarnanie_, pp. 204-5.\n\n[413] Hom. _Od._ VI. 105.\n\n[414] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 107. The title \u1f21 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b7 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac\nmust not be confused with the title \u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 (see above p.\n89), which belongs to Demeter.\n\n[415] _Ibid._\n\n[416] Cf. Paus. VIII. 35. 8, whence it appears probable that the\nnymph \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ce was once identical with Artemis; see Preller, _Griech.\nMythol._ p. 304.\n\n[417] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. I. p. 227.\n\n[418] Apoll. Rhod. III. 877. Callim. _Hymn to Artemis_, 15.\n\n[419] From Onorio Belli, _Descrizione dell\u2019 isola di Candia_, in Museum\nof Classical Antiqu., vol. II. p. 271. Cf. B. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p.\n108. Spratt, _Trav. in Crete_, I. p. 146.\n\n[420] Du Cange, _Gloss. med. et infim. Latin._ s.v. _Diana_.\n\n[421] Above, p. 119.\n\n[422] _Orph. Hymn_ 36 (35) _ad fin._\n\n[423] _De quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. xx.\n\n[424] For these two names see above, p. 21.\n\n[425] For the _Callicantzari_ see below, p. 190.\n\n[426] For _Burcolakes_ or _Vrykolakes_ see below, cap. IV.\n\n[427] _pulcras dominas_, a translation of the Nereids\u2019 title \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f70\u03c2\n\u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, _ibid._ cap. XIX.\n\n[428] The title-page of this exceedingly rare work runs as follows:--\n\n  La description et histoire de l\u2019isle de Scios ou Chios\n  par\n  Jerosme Justinian\n\nGentil\u2019homme ordinaire de la chambre du Roy Tres-Chrestien, fils\nde Seigneur Vincent Justinian, l\u2019un des Seigneurs de la dite Isle,\nChevalier de l\u2019ordre de sa Majest\u00e9, Conseiller en son Conseil d\u2019Estat\net Priv\u00e9, et Ambassadeur extraordinaire du Roy, auprez de Sultan Selin,\nGrand Seigneur de Constantinople.\n\n  M.D.VI.\n\nIn the copy formerly belonging to the historian Finlay and now in the\npossession of the British School of Archaeology at Athens is found a\nnote by Finlay as follows:--\u2018Joh. Wilh. Zinkeisen in Geschichte des\nosmanischen Reiches in Europa (Gotha, 1854), vol. ii. p. 90, note 2,\nmentions a second printed copy as existing in the Mazarine Library at\nParis, and a manuscript copy in possession of Justiniani family at\nGenoa. The date according to Zinkeisen should be not MDVI but MDCVI.\u2019\nThere is no designation of the press or place from which the volume\nissued.\n\n[429] _op. cit._ bk vi. p. 59.\n\n[430] See above, p. 140.\n\n[431] _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, pp. 107 and 123.\n\n[432] Compare _M\u00e4rchen_, etc. Song 56 and Stories 7, 19, with _Das\nVolksleben_, p. 123.\n\n[433] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 129.\n\n[434] See above, p. 121.\n\n[435] Also in one word \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n[436] Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 227; Pouqueville, _Voyage en\nGr\u00e8ce_, VI. p. 160; and above, p. 125.\n\n[437] _Reisen auf dem griech. Inseln_, III. pp. 45 and 182.\n\n[438] In \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae, 1852, p. 648.\n\n[439] Passow, _Pop. Carm. Graec. Recent._ no. 524.\n\n[440] Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 130.\n\n[441] Curt. Wachsmuth, _Das alte Griechenland im Neuen_, p. 31. Cf.\nalso \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, IV. p. 773 (1880).\n\n[442] Cf. Theodore Bent, _The Cyclades_, p. 144, who mentions also the\ncustom of shooting at the waterspout as a precaution.\n\n[443] Curt. Wachsmuth, _op. cit._ p. 30.\n\n[444] Schol. ad Apoll. Rhod. IV. 828, cited by Wachsmuth, _loc. cit._\n\n[445] For passages from authors of the 11th century and onwards see\nLeo Allatius, _De quor. Graec. opin._ cap. iii., and Grimm, _Deutsche\nMythologie_, II. 1012.\n\n[446] Aristophanes, _Frogs_, 293.\n\n[447] Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 133.\n\n[448] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. I. p. 224.\n\n[449] _Vespae_, 1177, and _Pax_, 758.\n\n[450] e.g. Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, no. 4.\n\n[451] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. p. 193.\n\n[452] Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, no. 4. Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._\n\n[453] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._\n\n[454] e.g. Hahn, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, nos. 4 and 32.\n\n[455] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. III. p. 156.\n\n[456] \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae, 1852, p. 653, and \u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74\u03c2 \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f18\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1. II. p. 135.\n\n[457] A few instances are collected by Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 141.\n\n[458] See Preller, _Griech. Myth._ p. 618.\n\n[459] \u03a4\u1f70 \u1f10\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03a4\u03c5\u03b1\u03bd\u03ad\u03b1 \u1f08\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, IV. 25 (p. 76).\n\n[460] _Metamorph._ I. cap. 11-19.\n\n[461] Lucian, _Philopseudes_, \u00a7 2. Strabo, I. p. 19. Schol. ad Arist.\n_Vesp._ 1177.\n\n[462] See above, pp. 147-8.\n\n[463] _The Cyclades_, p. 496.\n\n[464] \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 = ancient \u03b1\u1f30\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2, \u2018the shore.\u2019\n\n[465] The differences in sound between \u03b3\u03b9 and \u03b3 before \u03b5, and between \u03bb\nand \u03bb\u03bb, are negligible. In many words and dialects there are none.\n\n[466] _De quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. iii.-viii.\n\n[467] Zenob. _Cent._ III. 3. Suidas s.v. \u0393\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1 (a\nproverb). Hesych. s.v. \u0393\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ce.\n\n[468] The date is approximate only; for the authorship of the work in\nquestion is, I understand, disputed.\n\n[469] This is merely a Latinised plural form; the Greek plural\nregularly ends in -\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n[470] This word is recorded as still in use by Wachsmuth, _Das alte\nGriechenland im Neuen_, p. 78.\n\n[471] _op. cit._ cap. viii.\n\n[472] Cf. above, p. 174, where however the accent is given as belonging\nto the first syllable. The actual spelling in Allatius is \u039c\u03c9\u03c1\u03c1\u1fb7. The\nword in form \u039c\u03bf\u03c1\u1fc6 also occurs in conjunction with the mention of\nStriges and Geloudes in a MS. of \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 obtained by Dr W. H. D.\nRouse. See _Folklore_, vol. X. no. 2, p. 151.\n\n[473] Probably from Low Latin \u2018_burdo_\u2019 = _milvus_, a kite.\n\n[474] Compounded from Low Latin \u2018_bardala_\u2019 = _alauda_, a lark. A form\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf\u1fe6 occurs in a similar list of names cited by Dr Rouse from a\nMS. on magic. See _Folklore_, _l.c._ p. 162. The names said to have\nbeen extorted by the Archangel Michael begin there with \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1, \u03b3\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6,\nand belong clearly to a similar female demon.\n\n[475] The spelling in the text of Allatius before me is \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n[476] Theo. Bent, _The Cyclades_, p. 496.\n\n[477] Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ XI. 39.\n\n[478] Hyginus, _Fabul._ 28, emend. Barth.\n\n[479] _Fasti_, VI. 131 ff.\n\n[480] The same apparently as the \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 of Hesychius. The Greek\npeasants are very vague about the names of any birds other than those\nwhich they eat.\n\n[481] I. p. 473 (\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03a3\u03c4\u03c1\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u1ff6\u03bd), Migne, _Patrol. Graeco-Lat._ vol.\nXCIV., p. 1604.\n\n[482] The word is \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 which suggests rather the \u2018possession\u2019 of\nchildren by Striges as by devils. This however could hardly represent\nfairly the popular belief.\n\n[483] Quoted by Leo Allatius, _op. cit._ cap. iii.\n\n[484] So also in Albania, Hahn, _Alb. Studien_, I. 163.\n\n[485] From \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. pp. 179-181.\n\n[486] \u0391\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f38. \u1f08\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03c5, \u03a4\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, pp. 293 sqq.\n\n[487] Du Cange, _Gloss. med. et infim. Latin._ s.vv. \u2018Diana\u2019 and\n\u2018Striga.\u2019\n\n[488] _Ibid._\n\n[489] A witch of Santorini told me that she had a narrow escape from\nbeing burnt for a much less heinous crime, failure to get rain. See\nabove, p. 49.\n\n[490] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 in \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, II. p. 261 (1878).\n\n[491] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _ibid._ p. 260.\n\n[492] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _ibid._ pp. 266-8.\n\n[493] \u03a3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u039b\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, s.v. (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._).\n\n[494] \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd, 1860, p. 1272 (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._).\n\n[495] \u039d\u03b5\u03bf\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, II. p. 191 (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._).\n\n[496] \u1f08\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u039d. \u1f08\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03c5, \u03a4\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, pp. 293 ff. Cf. above, p. 183.\nThe forms used are \u1f21 \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9, and \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03af.\n\n[497] \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd, 1871, p. 1843 (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 _l.c._).\n\n[498] Published by E. Legrand in _Collection de monuments de la langue\nn\u00e9o-hell\u00e9nique_, no. 16, from two MSS. nos. 929 and 930 in Paris\n(Biblioth\u00e8que Nationale).\n\n[499] See above, p. 173.\n\n[500] Passow, _Carm. Popul._ no. 337.\n\n[501] The date assigned is, I believe, not certain, but is not of great\nimportance.\n\n[502] _De monstris et beluis_, edited by Berger de Xivrey in\n_Traditions T\u00e9ratologiques_, p. 25. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._\n\n[503] _Theog._ 270-288.\n\n[504] Cf. Pind. _Ol._ XIII. 90.\n\n[505] Kuhn in _Zeitschrift f\u00fcr vergleichende Sprachforschung_, vol. I.\npp. 460-1, connects \u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03ce with \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1 and Sanskr. _garya, garyana_, in\nsense of \u2018the noise of the waves.\u2019 Cf. Maury, _Hist. des relig. de la\nGr\u00e8ce antique_, I. p. 303.\n\n[506] No. 1002, found at Athens; date 600 B.C. or earlier.\n\n[507] No. 534, from Corinth; date about 550 B.C.\n\n[508] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l.c._ p. 269.\n\n[509] Hom. _Od._ XII. 73 ff.\n\n[510] _Aen._ IV. 327.\n\n[511] \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, part ii. of the series \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2\n\u03b3\u03bb\u03ce\u03c3\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u1fe6.\n\n[512] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. p. 1293.\n\n[513] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. 1295.\n\n[514] _De quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. ix.\n\n[515] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. II. 1245.\n\n[516] _Ibid._ II. 1245. It might equally well however, as Polites\nsuggests, mean \u2018deceivers,\u2019 from the active \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c9, \u2018to lead astray.\u2019\n\n[517] So explained by \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _op. cit._ 1247.\n\n[518] _Ibid._ II. 1245.\n\n[519] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. p. 370 (from Syra).\n\n[520] _Ibid._ II. 1293 (from Myconos).\n\n[521] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. I. p. 230.\n\n[522] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. II. p. 1291. In the Museum they are numbered\n10333-4.\n\n[523] \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 367.\n\n[524] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. II. p. 1323.\n\n[525] Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 148, and \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. p. 333.\n\n[526] Leo Allatius (_De quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. ix.) makes the\nperiod a week only, ending on New Year\u2019s Day.\n\n[527] For dialectic varieties of this name from Macedonia, the\nPeloponnese, Crete, and some of the Cyclades, see \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4., II.\n1256.\n\n[528] \u1f41 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 or \u1f41 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. Also, according to \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2,\n\u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. p. 369, \u1f41 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. In Constantinople (acc. to\n\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. 343) he has a proper name \u039c\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, which\nhowever I cannot interpret satisfactorily.\n\n[529] \u1f41 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c3\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, or simply \u1f41 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c3\u1f78\u03c2, \u1f41 \u03c7\u03c9\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2. Cf. B. Schmidt,\n_Das Volksleben_, pp. 152-4.\n\n[530] The sequence of these cocks varies locally; their order is\nsometimes black, white, red.\n\n[531] Lucian, _Philops._ cap. 14.\n\n[532] So Leo Allatius, _De quor. Graec. opin._ cap. ix.\n\n[533] Several other versions in the same vein are recorded, cf. B.\nSchmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 151, \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. pp. 337-41 and\nII. p. 1305.\n\n[534] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. p. 372.\n\n[535] For this version see \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. I. p. 229.\n\n[536] See above, p. 149.\n\n[537] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. p. 338 (from Samos).\n\n[538] Mod. Gk \u03c7\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u032f\u03cc, Anc. \u03c7\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03bb\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[539] \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd, 1862, p. 1909.\n\n[540] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. 347.\n\n[541] _Ibid._ I. 356.\n\n[542] _Ibid._ I. 338.\n\n[543] _Ibid._ I. 342.\n\n[544] \u03c8\u03af\u03c7\u03b1, \u03c8\u03af\u03c7\u03b1 \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf, \u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9 \u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03ae\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c6\u1fb6\u03bd \u03bf\u1f31\n\u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c6\u03cd\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2. For other versions see B.\nSchmidt, _Das Volksl._ p. 150, and \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. 342.\n\n[545] Cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. III. 154.\n\n[546] Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 357.\n\n[547] _Ibid._ II. p. 1308.\n\n[548] Abbott, _Maced. Folklore_, p. 74.\n\n[549] _Voyage de la Gr\u00e8ce_, VI. p. 157.\n\n[550] \u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1. \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, II. pp. 137-141.\n\n[551] \u1f38. \u039c\u03b9\u03c7\u03b1\u03ae\u03bb, \u039c\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, p. 39. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. II. 1251 note 2.\n\n[552] _loc. cit._\n\n[553] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. III. pp. 66 and 156.\n\n[554] \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, i. p. 334.\n\n[555] The word means literally men whose attendant _genii_ ( \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03ac,\non which see the next section) are \u2018light\u2019 ( \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2) instead of being\nsolid and steady. The temperament of such persons is ill-balanced in\nordinary affairs, but peculiarly sensitive to supernatural influences;\nit often involves the gift of second sight and other similar faculties.\n\n[556] Supernatural donkeys with the same habits are known also in Crete\nunder the name of \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 (prob. formed from \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1, \u2018on one\u2019s\nback,\u2019 the position in which the rider soon finds himself).\n\n[557] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. p. 342, from \u0393. \u039b\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u1fb6\u03c2, \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba. p. 12.\n\n[558] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. 338.\n\n[559] Luke iii. 22.\n\n[560] Cf. above, p. 67.\n\n[561] _De quorundam Graec. opinat._ cap. X.\n\n[562] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. p. 1286.\n\n[563] \u1f18\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd. \u039c\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 130.\n\n[564] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 I. p. 344.\n\n[565] The word \u03b6\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac which is sometimes heard in the Cyclades is, I\nsuspect, merely a corrupt form of \u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac (on which see above, p. 67);\nsome writers however have derived it from the root of \u03b6\u03ac\u03c9. But at any\nrate in usage it denotes the same class of beings as the commoner form\n\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac.\n\n[566] _op. cit._ cap. X. Actually the earliest reference to the\nCallicantzari which I have found occurs in _La description et histoire\nde l\u2019isle de Scios ou Chios_ by Jerosme Justinian, p. 61, where he\nsays, _Ils tiennent ... qu\u2019il y a de certains esprits qui courent par\nles grands chemins, et sont nommez Calican, Saros_. But inasmuch as\nhe does not record even the name correctly, his statement that these\nbeings are _esprits_ can have little weight as against that of Leo\nAllatius.\n\n[567] _Das Volksleben_, p. 143.\n\n[568] \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. pp. 331-81, and II. pp. 1242-4.\n\n[569] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. II. 1257.\n\n[570] _The Cyclades_, pp. 360 and 388. Bent does not seem to have known\nthe ordinary form \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9.\n\n[571] Abbott, _Maced. Folklore_, p. 73.\n\n[572] \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 209.\n\n[573] In this, the ordinary, sense the word appears twice in Passow\u2019s\n_Popularia Carm._ nos. 142 and 200. See also his index, s.v.\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03ae\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2. The Turks themselves borrowed the word _q\u0101lioum_ (our\n\u2018galleon\u2019) from the Franks.\n\n[574] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. II. pp. 1242 and 1244.\n\n[575] _Das Volksleben_, p. 144.\n\n[576] Schmidt, it should be said, was dubious about the existence of\nthis form.\n\n[577] In Bianchi, _Dict. Turc- fr._ II. p. 469, it is translated\n\u2018loup-garou,\u2019 Schmidt, _l.c._\n\n[578] Schmidt, _l.c._ note 2, \u2018esclave de la plus mauvaise esp\u00e8ce.\u2019\n\n[579] The previous relations between the Giustiniani, who controlled\nthe Genoese chartered company in Chios, and the Ottoman Empire seem to\nhave been purely commercial.\n\n[580] Quoted by Leo Allat. _de quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. ix. and\npublished in full by \u03a3\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[581] If this was the origin of Suidas\u2019 information, as seems almost\ncertain in view of its inaccuracy, his date cannot be earlier than that\nof Psellus (flor. circa 1050).\n\n[582] d\u2019Arnis, _Lexicon Med. et Infim. Latin._, explains _babuztus_\n(with other forms _babulus_, _baburrus_, and _baburcus_) by the words\n_stultus_, _insanus_.\n\n[583] J. B. Navon, _Rouz Nam\u00e9_, in the periodical _Fundgruben Orients_,\nVienna, 1814, vol. IV. p. 146, quoted by \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. p.\n1249, note 1.\n\n[584] \u1f0c\u03c4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, IV. p. 211.\n\n[585] In the periodical \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, 1866, XVI. p. 453.\n\n[586] \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 73, note 6.\n\n[587] \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. pp. 1252-3.\n\n[588] The word \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03ba\u03b9 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03b3\u03b9 is a diminutive form from the Latin\n_caliga_. Besides its original meaning \u2018shoe,\u2019 it has acquired now\nthe sense of \u2018hoof.\u2019 The transition was clearly through the sense of\n\u2018horse-shoe,\u2019 as witness the verb \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9, \u2018I shoe a horse.\u2019\n\n[589] This word has to be written with \u03b2 to give the _v_-sound of \u03c5\nfollowing \u03b5. The \u03b5 drops, and the \u03c5 cannot then be used alone, for\nexcept after \u03b1 and \u03b5 it is sounded as a vowel.\n\n[590] Polites backs up this meaning by deriving _baboutzicarios_ (on\nwhich see above, p. 217) from \u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9 (Arabic _b\u0101bouch_) \u2018a shoe,\u2019 but\nreluctantly refuses to accept the identification of \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u1fc6\u03c2 (above,\np. 215) with \u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b7\u03c2, a maker of \u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 or \u2018wooden shoes.\u2019 \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4.\nII. 1253.\n\n[591] Their Greek character is strongly emphasized by Balsamon, pp.\n230-1. (Vol. 137 of Migne, _Patrol. Gr.-Lat._)\n\n[592] _loc. cit._\n\n[593] Photius, _Biblioth._ 254, pp. 468-9, ed. Bekker, \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03ac\u03c2.\n\n[594] _Ibid._ \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ce\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03b4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03c4\u1f74 \u1f11\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03ae.\n\n[595] _Ibid._ \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03ad\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b8\u03b5\u03bc\u03af\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03c0\u03b9\u03b6\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9.\n\n[596] Usener, _Acta S. Timothei_, p. 11 (Bonn).\n\n[597] Migne, _Patrol. Gr.-Lat._ Vol. 40, p. 220.\n\n[598] Edited by Cumont.\n\n[599] Balsamon, _loc. cit._\n\n[600] \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. pp. 1273-4. To this work I am indebted for most\nof my instances of these celebrations during the \u2018Twelve Days.\u2019\n\n[601] _Annual of the British School at Athens_, VI. p. 125.\n\n[602] Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 31.\n\n[603] R. M. Dawkins, in _Journal of Hellenic Studies_, Vol. 26, Part\nII. (1906), p. 193.\n\n[604] Dawkins, _op. cit._ p. 201, referring to a pamphlet, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03b8\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03ae\u03c8\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u1f08.\n\u03a7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b6\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5, Constantinople, 1873, p. 22.\n\n[605] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8. III. p. 162.\n\n[606] _loc. cit._\n\n[607] The word is certainly in my experience rare, and is not given\nin Skarlatos\u2019 Lexicon. But it occurs e.g. in a popular tradition from\nThessaly concerning the Callicantzari, in \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p.\n356.\n\n[608] \u039b\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, s.v. \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[609] Plutarch, _de \u03b5\u1f30 apud Delphos_, 9 (p. 389).\n\n[610] Balsamon, p. 231 (Migne, _Patrol. Gr.-Lat._ Vol. 137).\n\n[611] Ulpian, _ad Dem._ p. 294. Cf. also Balsamon, _loc. cit._\n\n[612] M\u00fcller and Donaldson, _History of the Literature of Ancient\nGreece_, I. p. 382.\n\n[613] Smith, _Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities_, s.v.\n_Dionysia_.\n\n[614] See above, p. 151.\n\n[615] I write _d_ in the place of the Greek \u03c4, which when following \u03bd\nalways has the sound of English _d_.\n\n[616] It is probably formed from \u03c4\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u2018a tent,\u2019 which clearly comes\nfrom the Latin. Some however derive directly from the anc. Gk \u03c4\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9.\nThe question of origin however does not affect my illustration of the\nlater change of \u03c4 into \u03c4\u03c3.\n\n[617] Heard in Sciathos and kindly communicated to me by Mr A. J. B.\nWace.\n\n[618] Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxv. 6; Dioscor. v. 45; Sophocles Byzant.\n_Lexicon_, s.v. \u1f00\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u03cd\u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f36\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[619] Marcellus Empir., cap. 20 (p. 139).\n\n[620] _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_, p. 380.\n\n[621] Lucian, _Zeuxis_, cap. 6.\n\n[622] Nonnus, _Dionys._ 13. 44 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03a3\u03b1\u03c4\u03cd\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd, \u039a\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f36\u03bc\u03b1\n\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03b8\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2. This reference I owe to Miss Harrison, _l. c._\n\n[623] _Iliad_, II. 743.\n\n[624] Lucian, _Zeuxis_, cap. 5.\n\n[625] Isaiah xxxiv. 14.\n\n[626] I cannot of course absolutely affirm that the word is extinct in\nevery dialect even now; but the only suggestion of its use which I can\nfind is in a story of Hahn\u2019s collection (_Alban. und Griech. M\u00e4rch._\nII. 189), where the German translation has the strange word \u2018Wolfsmann.\u2019\n\n[627] _Pyth._ III. 1-4.\n\n[628] _Ibid._ IV. 115.\n\n[629] _Ibid._ IV. 119.\n\n[630] _Ibid._ III. 45.\n\n[631] _Pyth._ II. 29.\n\n[632] _Pyth._ II. 42-48.\n\n[633] Hesiod, _Shield of Heracl._ 178-188.\n\n[634] Hom. _Il._ I. 262-8.\n\n[635] Hom. _Il._ II. 743.\n\n[636] _Il._ XI. 832.\n\n[637] _Ibid._\n\n[638] _Il._ IV. 219.\n\n[639] Hom. _Od._ XXI. 303.\n\n[640] _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_, p. 382.\n\n[641] _Early Age of Greece_, I. pp. 173 ff.\n\n[642] _Pyth._ IV. 80.\n\n[643] _Pyth._ III. 45.\n\n[644] _Early Age of Greece_, I. pp. 175-6.\n\n[645] Ridgeway, _Early Age of Greece_, I. p. 178.\n\n[646] _De bello Gothico_, IV. 20 (Niebuhr, 1833, p. 565).\n\n[647] _Early Age of Greece_, I. pp. 177-8.\n\n[648] _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_, p. 382.\n\n[649] Ridgeway, _Early Age of Greece_, I. p. 174. The vase in question\nis figured by Colvin in _Journ. of Hellenic Studies_, Vol. I. p. 131,\nPl. 2, and by Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena_ etc. p. 384.\n\n[650] Pind. _Pyth._ III. 45 ff. (transl. Myers).\n\n[651] Pind. _Pyth._ IX. 31 ff.\n\n[652] _Primitive Culture_, Vol. I. p. 308. For a mass of instances, see\npp. 308-315.\n\n[653] _Op. cit._ I. p. 312.\n\n[654] Verg. _Ecl._ VIII. 95.\n\n[655] Hesiod, _Shield of Heracles_, 178 ff. Cf. also the names \u1f0c\u03b3\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\nand \u1f1c\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 (suggesting \u1f10\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7, the fir-tree from which their weapons\nwere made) in Apollodor. II. 5. 4. The name \u1f0c\u03c3\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 in Hesiod, meaning\n\u2018soot,\u2019 I cannot interpret; for it is hard to suppose that the ancient\nCentaurs, like the Callicantzari, came down the chimney. But the word\nis possibly corrupt; for Ovid (_Met._ XII. 307) refers to an augur\nAstylus among the Centaurs.\n\n[656] Cf. Miss J. Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek\nReligion_, pp. 383-4.\n\n[657] Paus. VIII. 42. 1-4. Cf. VIII. 25. 5.\n\n[658] Apollodorus, II. 5. 4.\n\n[659] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 339.\n\n[660] Stories of their coming to cook frogs etc. at the hearths of men\noccur, but only confirm the general belief that they have no fires of\ntheir own at which to cook, and are in general afraid of fire.\n\n[661] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. pp. 1297 and 1337.\n\n[662] The shift of accent is due to the synizesis of the syllables\n-\u03b5\u03b9-\u03b1, pronounced now as -y\u00e1.\n\n[663] Du Cange, s.v. \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[664] _Coloss._ ii. 3 and 20; _Galat._ iv. 3 and 9.\n\n[665] _Galat._ iv. 9.\n\n[666] Passow, _Popul. Carm._ no. 524. According to \u03a3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 (\u039b\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd,\ns.v.) \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd is sometimes a term of abuse; on that statement I base\nmy interpretation of the folk-song.\n\n[667] Du Cange, s.v.\n\n[668] Du Cange, s.v.\n\n[669] Georg. Cedrenus (circ. 1050) _Historiarum Compendium_, p. 197\n(edit. Paris).\n\n[670] Cedrenus, _ibid._\n\n[671] \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd pro eo quod \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 (whence by Arabic corruption our\n\u2018talisman\u2019) vocant Graeci, usurpant alii. Du Cange, _ibid._\n\n[672] Codinus (15th century), _de Originibus Constantinop._ p. 30\n(edit. Paris) \u00a7 63.\n\n[673] Codinus, _ibid._ p. 20. \u00a7 39.\n\n[674] _De quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. XXI.\n\n[675] The active of the verb also survives in a special sense, for\nwhich see below, p. 267. The modern form is \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9: cf. \u03b4\u03b7\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9 for\n\u03b4\u03b7\u03bb\u03cc\u03c9, etc.\n\n[676] See above, p. 69.\n\n[677] Verg. _Aen._ V. 84 ff.\n\n[678] _Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite_, 272. Cf. above, p. 156.\n\n[679] _De quor. Graec. opinat._ cap. XXI.\n\n[680] B. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 185.\n\n[681] i.e. \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, with initial \u03bd attached (first in the\naccusative) from the article (\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd) preceding. This is the ordinary word\nfor \u2018the master of a house.\u2019\n\n[682] i.e. \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5. The word is used in Cythnos and Cyprus.\nCf. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 124. \u03a3\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, III. p. 286.\n\n[683] For detailed stories in point, see Leo Allatius, _l. c._, B.\nSchmidt, _op. cit._ pp. 186, 187.\n\n[684] _Char._ 16.\n\n[685] Suidas, s.vv. \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae and \u039e\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2.\n\n[686] s.v. \u1f44\u03c6\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd.\n\n[687] VIII. 41.\n\n[688] Cf. Passow, _Popul. Carm._, Index, s.v. \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[689] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 134.\n\n[690] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _l. c._\n\n[691] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. III. p. 155.\n\n[692] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, _op. cit._ I. 226.\n\n[693] e.g. Passow, _Popul. Carm._ nos. 511, 512.\n\n[694] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03b7\u0390\u03c2, p. 247 (from \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _op. cit._ p. 141).\n\n[695] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _ibid._\n\n[696] \u1f38\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4. \u1f00\u03c3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, pp. 28-30 (\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _ibid._).\n\n[697] W. H. D. Rouse in _Folklore_, June, 1899 (Vol. x. no. 2), pp. 182\nff.\n\n[698] Passow, no. 511, and \u0396\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f0c\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, p.\n757.\n\n[699] So Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 196. \u1f38\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f74\n\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4. \u1f00\u03c3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, p. 93, mentions also a dog.\n\n[700] So also in Zacynthos and Cephalonia. Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p.\n196.\n\n[701] e.g. in Cimolus, Bent, _The Cyclades_, p. 45.\n\n[702] Cf. Ricaut, _Hist. de l\u2019\u00e9glise grecque_, pp. 369-70.\n\n[703] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. III. p. 148.\n\n[704] _The Cyclades_, p. 132.\n\n[705] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 138.\n\n[706] Ricaut, _Hist. de l\u2019\u00e9glise grecque_, p. 367 (from \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2,\n_ibid._).\n\n[707] \u1f38\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4. \u1f00\u03c3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, p. 28.\n\n[708] _Das Volksleben_, p. 196, note 2.\n\n[709] Since this was written, a new work of Prof. Polites ( \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b3\u03bb\u03ce\u03c3\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u1fe6, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2) has come\ninto my hands, and I find that he has modified his views. Cf. below,\npp. 272-3, where I insert a suggestion made by Polites, _op. cit._ II.\np. 1089.\n\n[710] Suidas, \u039b\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, s.v. \u039c\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c2. The statement is corroborated\nby Codinus, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, p. 30, who adds to the human victims\n\u2018multitudes of sheep and oxen and fowls.\u2019 From \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 141,\nnote 1.\n\n[711] Hom. _Il._ VII. 442 ff.\n\n[712] Hom. _Il._ XII. 3-33.\n\n[713] See below, p. 273.\n\n[714] _Agam._ 214.\n\n[715] _Agam._ 1418.\n\n[716] IV. 9. 1-5.\n\n[717] VI. 20. 2-5.\n\n[718] Porphyrius, _De abstinentia_, II. 56. Plutarch, _Themistocles_,\n13.\n\n[719] This view of the story I take from \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, II. p.\n1089.\n\n[720] V. 4. 4.\n\n[721] _Pausanias\u2019 Description of Greece_, III. p. 468.\n\n[722] Pausanias, I. 26. 1.\n\n[723] Schol. ad Aristoph. _Nubes_, 508.\n\n[724] Miss Jane Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_,\np. 327 ff.\n\n[725] See Roscher, _Lexicon d. Mythol._ I. 2468 ff.\n\n[726] Lucian, _Alexander vel Pseudomantis_, cap. XIV.\n\n[727] See Miss Jane Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek\nReligion_, pp. 17-20, where the two reliefs in question are reproduced.\n\n[728] For ballads dealing with this theme, see \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 133,\nand \u1fb9\u03c1\u03b1\u03b2\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u03a3\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03c9\u03b4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f28\u03c0\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5, no. 451.\n\n[729] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 197.\n\n[730] _Ibid._ p. 198.\n\n[731] He used a neuter form, \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f00\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03b9\u03b1, which I have not found\nelsewhere.\n\n[732] A similar method of laying _vryk\u00f3lakes_ is reported from Samos by\n\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (\u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. 580). In this case a wizard \u2018took three calves\nborn at one birth and drove them three times round the churchyard,\nsaying some magic words.\u2019\n\n[733] \u1f41 \u03b2\u1ff3\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2. The story as I give it is not a verbatim report of\nwhat I heard; as usual, I had to rely on my memory at the time and make\nnotes afterwards.\n\n[734] This is the form which I heard used constantly in the island\ninstead of the more common \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03ac\u03bc\u03b9 (\u03c4\u1f78).\n\n[735] This however must have been prior to the middle of the 17th\ncentury; for a history of the island published in 1657 says, \u2018cette\nIsle ... n\u2019est arrous\u00e9e d\u2019aucun ruisseau ou fontaine.\u2019 P\u00e8re Fran\u00e7ois\nRichard, _Relation de ce qui s\u2019est pass\u00e9 \u00e0 Santorini_, p. 35.\n\n[736] Soph. _Trach._ 10 ff.\n\n[737] Formed from the ancient \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd as \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 from \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd.\nCf. above, p. 98. There is a feminine \u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 or \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1.\n\n[738] Cf. Philostr. _Vit. Apollon._ III. 8. Aelian, _de natur. anim._\nXVI. 39. Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 191.\n\n[739] Only one variety of dragon, the \u03c7\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9 or \u2018ground-dragon,\u2019 is\noften harmless. It is of pastoral tastes and consorts with the ewes and\nshe-goats, and is more noted among the shepherds for its lasciviousness\nthan for any other quality.\n\n[740] Artem. _Oneirocr._ II. 13 (p. 101). Cf. Festus, 67, 13.\n\n[741] Lucian, _Philopseudes_, cap. XXXII. Zenobius, _Cent._ II. 1. The\nsame punishment is in one story inflicted by a Callicantzaros on a\nmidwife who had deceived him into believing that his newborn child was\nmale. After sending her away with a sackful of gold, he discovered her\ndeceit, and on her arrival at home the gold had turned to ashes. See\nabove, p. 199.\n\n[742] \u1f08\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f38. \u1f08\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03c5, \u03a4\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac (published first in \u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2\n\u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, Vol. V. pp. 277 sqq.).\n\n[743] For the first half of this story, see above, p. 183.\n\n[744] \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc, _op. cit._ pp. 299 and 315.\n\n[745] e.g. \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u1fc6\u03bb\u03b1, \u2018immortal apples,\u2019 _op. cit._ pp. 311 and 316.\n\u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b6\u03b9, \u2018immortal water-melon,\u2019 pp. 297 and 315. \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\n\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf, \u2018immortal gilly-flower,\u2019 p. 317. The translation of this\nlast is correctly that which I have given, but the peasants all over\nGreece will call almost any bright and scented flower by this same name.\n\n[746] See above, p. 137.\n\n[747] Cf. above, pp. 143-4.\n\n[748] _Glossar. med. et infim. Graecitatis_ (p. 1541), s.v. \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[749] _Ibid._, Damasc. Hierodiac. _Serm._ 3.\n\n[750] _Ibid._, Maximus Cythaer. Episc.\n\n[751] _Ibid._, Georg. Hamartolus.\n\n[752] \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 (for which I read \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 with Bern.\nSchmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 172).\n\n[753] _Ibid._, _Euchologium_.\n\n[754] Luke xii. 20.\n\n[755] Du Cange, _ibid._ \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9, \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03b8\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c8\u03b7\u03c6\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af, etc.\n\n[756] See above, p. 110.\n\n[757] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, pp. 362-3.\n\n[758] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 81.\n\n[759] See above, p. 109.\n\n[760] Testimony to the same belief is cited by Du Cange (s.v. \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd)\nfrom an anonymous astronomical work.\n\n[761] For references see Preller, _Griech. Mythol._ II. 105-6.\n\n[762] Villoison, _Annales des voyages_, II. p. 180, cited by B.\nSchmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 174, note 4.\n\n[763] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd. III. p. 166.\n\n[764] _Voyage de la Gr\u00e8ce_, VI. p. 154.\n\n[765] _Das Volksleben_, p. 173.\n\n[766] _Griech. M\u00e4rch._ Vol. II. no. 64.\n\n[767] Cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, III. p. 77.\n\n[768] Cf. above, p. 53.\n\n[769] For this term see above, p. 204.\n\n[770] B. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 180.\n\n[771] _Ibid._ note 6.\n\n[772] _Op. cit_. p. 181.\n\n[773] _Op. cit._ p. 181.\n\n[774] _Op. cit._ p. 182.\n\n[775] I cannot vouch for the accuracy of this translation. The word\nmight possibly mean \u2018he has had his shadow trampled on,\u2019 and has been\nhurt indirectly through an injury inflicted upon his shadow-_genius_.\n\n[776] Hom. _Il._ XXIII. 79.\n\n[777] _Il._ XVIII. 535-8.\n\n[778] Plato, _Phaedo_, p. 107 D.\n\n[779] _Rep._ p. 617 D, E. Cf. 620 D, E.\n\n[780] Meineke, _Fragm. Com. Graec._ IV. p. 238.\n\n[781] Theocr. IV. 40.\n\n[782] I do not of course wish to imply that in the every-day usage of\nthese words the thought of a guardian-_genius_ was present to men\u2019s\nminds; but the first formation of them can only have sprung from this\nbelief.\n\n[783] _Aen._ VI. 743.\n\n[784] Plato, _Theag._ 128 D.\n\n[785] _Ibid._ E.\n\n[786] Both Plato (_Apol._ 40 A) and Xenophon (_Mem._ I. 1. 2-4),\ncompare Socrates\u2019 converse with his _genius_ with \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae or\n\u2018inspiration.\u2019\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE COMMUNION OF GODS AND MEN.\n\n \u1f1c\u03a4\u0399 \u03a4\u039f\u038a\u039d\u03a5\u039d \u039a\u0391\u1fda \u0398\u03a5\u03a3\u038a\u0391\u0399 \u03a0\u0391\u0342\u03a3\u0391\u0399 \u039a\u0391\u1fda \u039f\u1f3f\u03a3 \u039c\u0391\u039d\u03a4\u0399\u039a\u1fca\n \u1f18\u03a0\u0399\u03a3\u03a4\u0391\u03a4\u0395\u0399\u0342--\u03a4\u0391\u03a5\u0342\u03a4\u0391 \u0394\u2019 \u1f18\u03a3\u03a4\u1fda\u039d \u1f29 \u03a0\u0395\u03a1\u1fda \u0398\u0395\u039f\u03a5\u03a3 \u03a4\u0395 \u039a\u0391\u1fda \u1f08\u039d\u0398\u03a1\u038f\u03a0\u039f\u03a5\u03a3 \u03a0\u03a1\u1ff8\u03a3\n \u1f08\u039b\u039b\u0389\u039b\u039f\u03a5\u03a3 \u039a\u039f\u0399\u039d\u03a9\u039d\u038a\u0391--\u039f\u03a5\u0313 \u03a0\u0395\u03a1\u1fda \u1f0c\u039b\u039b\u039f \u03a4\u038a \u1f18\u03a3\u03a4\u0399\u039d \u1f2a \u03a0\u0395\u03a1\u1fda \u1f1c\u03a1\u03a9\u03a4\u039f\u03a3 \u03a6\u03a5\u039b\u0391\u039a\u0389\u039d \u03a4\u0395 \u039a\u0391\u1fda\n \u1f3c\u0391\u03a3\u0399\u039d.\n\n  PLATO, _Symposium_, p. 188.\n\n\nThe short sketch which has been given of the attitude of the Greek\npeasantry towards the Christian Godhead and all the host of assistant\nsaints, and also the more detailed account of those pagan deities\nor demons whom the common-folk\u2019s awe, not unmingled with affection,\nhas preserved from oblivion through so many centuries, have, I hope,\njustified the statement that the religion of Greece both is now,\nand--if a multitude of coincidences in the very minutiae of ancient and\nmodern beliefs speak at all for the continuity of thought--from the\ndawn of Greek history onward through its brief bright noontide to its\nlong-drawn dusk and night illumined even now only by borrowed lights\nhas ever been, a form, and a little changed form, of polytheism.\n\nWhatever be the merits and the demerits of such a religion in contrast\nwith the worship of one almighty God, most thinkers will concede\nto it the property of bringing the divine element within more easy\ncomprehension of the majority of mankind. Proper names, limited\nattributes, definite duties and spheres of work--these give a starting\npoint from which the peasant can set out towards a conception of gods.\nHe himself bears a name, he himself has qualities, he himself performs\nhis round of work; and though his name be writ smaller than that of the\nbeing whom he strives to imagine--though his virtues and perhaps his\nvices be less pronouncedly white and black--though his daily task be\nmore trivial--yet in one and all of these things he stands on common\nground with his deities; they differ from him in degree rather than\nin kind; he has but to picture a race of beings somewhat stronger and\nsomewhat nobler than the foremost of his own fellow-men, and these whom\nhe thus imagines are gods. A single spirit omniscient and omnipotent\nis too distant, too inaccessible from any known ground. Lack of the\ncapacity to form or to grasp lofty ideals carries with it at least the\ncompensation of closer intimacy with the supernatural and the divine.\n\nIt may therefore be expected that in the course of the intellectual\nand spiritual development of any primitive people, the more accurately\nthey learn to measure their own imperfections and limitations, and the\nmore imaginatively they magnify the wisdom and power of their gods,\nthe wider and more impassable grows the chasm that divides mortal from\nimmortal, human from divine; communion of man and god becomes less\nfrequent, less direct. Such certainly was the experience of the Greek\nnation in some measure; but, owing probably to an innate and persistent\nvanity which at all times has made the race blind to its own failings,\nthat experience was less acute than in the case of other peoples. There\nhad been days indeed when their gods walked the earth with men and\ncounselled them in troubles and fought in their battles; there had been\ndays when the chiefest of all the gods sought a hero\u2019s aid against his\ngiant foes; there had been days when men and women might aspire even\nto wedlock with immortals, and to possess children half-divine. In\nthose days too death was not the only path by which the heavens or the\nhouse of Hades might be gained. Kings and prophets, warriors and fair\nwomen passed thither by grace of the gods living and unscathed; nay,\neven personal skill or prowess emboldened minstrel and hero to match\nthemselves with the gods below, and wielding of club or sweeping of\nlyre sufficed to open the doors for their return to earth.\n\nBut those days soon passed; men walked and spoke and held open\nfellowship with the gods no more; the very poetry and imagination of\nthe Greek temperament so fast outstripped in rapidity of development\nthe growth of material or moral resources, that the rift between their\nreligious ideals and the realities of their life and character ever\nwidened, until the daily and familiar intercourse of their ancestors\nwith the gods seemed to them a condition of life irretrievable and\nthenceforth impossible. This result was observed and remarked by the\nGreeks themselves, but the process by which it had come about was not\nagreed. To one school of thought, it was the degeneracy of mankind\nthrough successive ages--the golden age in which men lived as gods and\npassed hence, as it were in sleep, to become spirits clothed in air,\nadministering upon earth the purposes of mighty Zeus--the silver age\nwherein childhood was still long and innocent, and, though men\u2019s riper\nyears brought cares and quarrels and indifference to holy things, yet\nwhen the earth covered them they were called blessed and received a\nmeasure of honour--the bronze age when all men\u2019s minds were set on war\nand their stalwart arms were busy with brazen weapons, and by each\nother\u2019s hands they were sent down to the chill dark house of Hades\nand their names were no more known--the age of heroes who were called\nhalf-divine, who fought in the Theban and the Trojan wars, and when\nthe doom of death overtook them were granted a life apart from other\nmen in the islands of the blest, because they had been nobler and more\nrighteous than those of the age of bronze and had stemmed for a time\nthe current of degeneracy--the fifth age in which the depravity of man\ngrows apace and soon there will be nought but discord between father\nand son, and no regard will be paid to guest nor comrade nor brother,\nand children will slight their aged parents, and the voice of gods will\nbe unknown to them[787]--to one school of thought, I say, it was simply\nand solely this decline of the human race, swift and only once checked,\nthat was held accountable for their estrangement from the powers above\nthem.\n\nBut such thinkers were in a minority. Humility and self-dissatisfaction\nwere and are qualities foreign to the ordinary Greek. He observed the\nwide gulf that separated him from those whom he worshipped, but without\nany sense of unworthiness, without any depression of spirit. He was not\ndespondent over his own shortcomings and limitations, but was filled\nrather with a larger complacency in the thought that, incapable though\nhe might be to reproduce actually in his own life and character much\nof the beauty and nobility of his gods, he was so gifted in mind and\ngodlike in understanding, that in his moments of highest imagination\nand most spiritual exaltation he could soar to that loftier plane\nwhereon was enacted all the divine life, and could visualise his gods\nand feel the closeness of their presence. The motive of the highest\nacts of Greek worship seems to have been not the self-abasement of\nthe worshipper and the glorification of the worshipped, but rather an\nobliteration of the distinctions between man and god, and a temporary\nattainment by the human of spiritual equality and companionship with\nthe divine. The votary of Bacchus in his hours of wildest ecstacy\nenjoyed so completely this sense of equality and of real union with the\ngod, that even to others it seemed fitting that he should be called by\nthe god\u2019s own name[788].\n\nBut the hours, in which the Greeks of the historical age attained by\na sort of religious frenzy such intimacy with their gods as their\nancestors were famed to have enjoyed all their life long, were few and\nfar between. The means of communion had become in general less direct,\nless personal. Yet even so the desire for communion continued unabated,\nand the belief in it still pervaded every phase of life. Intellectual\nprogress had curiously little effect upon the dominant religious\nideas. A strongly conservative attachment to ancient tradition and\ncustom was strangely blended with that progressive spirit which made\nthe intellectual development of the Athenians unique in its swiftness,\nas in its scope, among all peoples known to history. Their minds\nwelcomed new speculations, new doctrines; but their hearts clung to\nthe old unreasonable faith. Ancestral ideas remained for them the\nsole foundation of religion. Each poet or philosopher in drama or in\ndialogue, each man in his own heart, was free to build upon it and to\nornament his superstructure as he would; and his work found a certain\nsanction in the appeal which it made to other men\u2019s sense of truth and\nof beauty. But for the foundation the _fiat_ of antiquity had been\npronounced and was immutable. Plato\u2019s reasoned exposition of the soul\u2019s\nimmortality culminates in an Apocalypse ratified by the old mythology;\nand a quotation from Homer ever served to quash or to confirm the\nsubtlest argument.\n\nThat the foundation-stone was not, in the estimate of reason, well and\ntruly laid, that the basis of religion was insecure, must have been\nobvious to many. Pindar saw it, and, by refusing to impute to the gods\nany deed or purpose which his own heart condemned as ungodly, strove\nto repair its defects; Euripides too saw it, and scoffed at those who\nwould build on so unstable a base. But the mass of men, though they\nalso must have seen, were little troubled, it would seem, either to\ndemolish or to repair. They accepted the old beliefs and ceremonies\nbecause they were sanctioned by the authority or the experience of\npast ages; and if sober reasoning and criticism exposed flaws and\ninconsistencies therein, what matter? They were, as they still are,\na people incapable of any mental equilibrium; the mood of the hour\nswayed them now to emotions, now to reasonings; they did not cultivate\nconsistency; they could not sit still and preserve an even balance\nbetween the passions of the heart and the judgements of the intellect,\nbut threw their whole selves into the one scale, and the other for the\nmoment was as vanity.\n\nIn the whole complex and irrational scheme of religion thus accepted,\nnothing was more highly valued than the means by which divine counsel\nwas obtained for the conduct both of public and of private affairs.\nOmens were regularly taken before battle, at the critical moment when\nwe should prefer to trust experience and generalship. Oracles were\nconsulted as to the sites for planting colonies, in cases where a\nsurveyor\u2019s report might have seemed more decisive. But the efficacy\nof these old methods of consulting the gods went almost unchallenged.\nIt seems seldom to have occurred to men\u2019s minds that those untoward\nsigns in the victim\u2019s entrails, which perhaps delayed tactics on which\nvictory depended, were the symptoms of an internal disease and not\nthe handiwork of a deity, or that the inferior and ambiguous verse,\nin which the gods condescended to give counsel, more often confused\nthan confirmed human judgement. Even of the philosophers, according\nto Cicero[789], two only, Xenophanes and Epicurus, went so far as to\ndeny the validity of all means of communion; and Socrates, for all his\nquestioning and testing of truth, obeyed without question the whispered\nwarnings of a _daemon_, and in deference to the ambiguous exhortations\nof a vision spent some of his last days in turning Aesop\u2019s fables into\nverse, that so he might go into the presence of the gods with his\nconscience clear. Thus, though men no longer expected to look upon the\nfaces or to hear the voices of the gods, they still felt them to be\nclose at hand, easy of access, ready to counsel, to warn, to encourage;\nand the methods of communion, in proportion as they stand condemned by\nreason, commend so much the more the steady faith of the people who\nused them and never doubted their efficacy. The answer of the ordinary\nman to those critics, who questioned the validity of divination merely\nbecause they could not understand the way in which it operated, is well\nexpressed by Cicero: \u2018It is a poor sort of cleverness to try to upset\nby sophistry facts which are confirmed by the experience of ages. The\nreason of those facts I cannot discover; the dark ways of Nature, I\nsuppose, conceal it from my view. God has not willed that I should know\nthe reason, but only that I should use the means[790].\u2019\n\nThe Greek nation saw many philosophies rise and fall, but it clung\nalways to the religion which it had inherited. The doctrines of Plato\nand Aristotle, Zeno and Epicurus, became for the Greek people as though\nthey had never been; but the old polytheism of the Homeric and earlier\nages lived. Faith justified by experience was a living force; the\nconclusions of reason a mere fabrication. And an essential part of that\npolytheism which was almost instinctive in the Greeks was their belief\nin the possibility of close and frequent communion with their gods.\n\nNow the means of communion between men and gods are obviously\ntwofold--the methods by which men make their communications to the\ngods, and the methods by which the gods make their communications to\nmen. The former class of communications involve for the most part\nquestions or petitions; the latter are mainly the responses thereto;\nand it would seem natural to consider them in that order. But inasmuch\nas more is known of the ancient methods by which the gods signified\ntheir will to men than of the reverse process, it will be convenient\nfirst to establish the unity of modern folklore with ancient religion\nin this division of the subject, and afterwards to discuss how any\nmodern ideas concerning the means open to man of communicating with the\ngods may bear upon the less known corresponding department of ancient\nreligion. For if we find that the theory no less than the practice of\ndivination, that is, of receiving and interpreting divine messages,\nhas been handed down from antiquity almost unchanged, there will be\na greater probability that, along with the general modern system of\nsacrifices or offerings which accompany men\u2019s petitions, a curious\nconception of human sacrifice in particular which I once encountered is\nalso a relic of ancient religion.\n\nThe survival of divination then in its several branches first claims\nour attention. The various modes employed are for the most part\nenumerated by Aeschylus[791] in the passage where Prometheus recounts\nthe subjects in which he claimed to have first instructed mankind:\ndreams and their interpretation; chance words (\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2) overheard,\noften conveying another meaning to the hearer than that which the\nspeaker intended; meetings on the road (\u1f10\u03bd\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03cd\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9), where the\nperson or object encountered was a portent of the traveller\u2019s success\nor failure in his errand; auspices in the strict sense of the word,\nobservations, that is, of the flight and habits of birds; augury\nfrom a sacrificial victim, either by inspection of its entrails or\nby signs seen in the fire in which it was being consumed. To these\narts Suidas[792] adds \u2018domestic divination\u2019 (\u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd)--the\ninterpretation of various trivial incidents of domestic life--palmistry\n(\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd), and divination from the twitching of any part of\nthe body (\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd). Finally of course there was direct inspiration\n(\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae), either temporary, as in an individual seer, or permanent, as\nat the oracle of Delphi.\n\nWhether the common-folk ever distinguished the comparative values of\nthese many methods of divination may well be doubted. The Delphic\noracle, I suspect, attained its high prestige more because it was ready\nto supply immediately on demand a more or less direct and detailed\nanswer to a definite question, than because personal inspiration was\nheld to be in any way a surer channel for divine communications than\nwere other means of divination. Some thinkers indeed, chiefly of the\nPeripatetic school[793], were inclined to draw distinctions between\n\u2018natural\u2019 and \u2018skilled\u2019 divination[794]. The \u2018natural\u2019 methods,\nincluding dreams and all direct inspiration, were accepted by them; the\n\u2018skilled\u2019 methods, those which required the services of a professional\naugur or interpreter, were disallowed. But the division proposed was\nin itself bad--for dreams do not by any means exclusively belong\nto the first class, but probably in the majority of cases require\ninterpretation by experts--and, apart from that consideration, the\ndistinction was the invention of a philosophical sect and not an\nexpression of popular feeling. There is nothing to show that the\ncommon-folk, believing as they did in the practicability of communion\nwith their gods, esteemed one means of divination as intrinsically more\nvaluable than another.\n\nNor was there any logical reason for such discrimination. Granted\nthat there were gods superior to man in knowledge and in power and\nalso willing to communicate with him, no restriction could logically\nbe set upon the means of communication which they might choose to\nadopt. There was no reason why they should speak by the mouth of a\npriestess intoxicated with mephitic vapours or disturb men\u2019s sleep with\nvisions rather than use the birds as their messengers or write their\ncommandment on the intestines of a sacrificial victim.\n\nA certain justification for accepting some means of divination, such\nas intelligible dreams, and for suspecting others, might certainly\nhave been found in distrust of any human intermediary; vagrant and\nnecessitous oracle-mongers infested the country; and even the priestess\nof Delphi, as history shows, was not always superior to political and\npecuniary considerations. But experience of fraud did not apparently\nteach distrust; the fact that oracles and other means of divination\nwere undoubtedly often abused did not cause the Greek people to\nreject the proper use of them; down to this day all the chief methods\nof ancient divination still continue. In some cases, we shall see,\nthe modern employment of such methods is a mere survival of ancient\ncustom without any intelligent religious motive; but in others there\nis abundant evidence that the modern folk are still actuated by the\nfeelings which so dominated the lives of their ancestors--the belief\nin, and the desire for, close and frequent communion with the powers\nabove.\n\nDirect inspiration is a gift which at the present day a man is not\ninclined to claim for himself, though he will often attribute it to\nanother; for it implies insanity. But though the gift is not therefore\nenvied, it is everywhere respected. Mental derangement, which appears\nto me to be exceedingly common among the Greek peasants, sets the\nsufferer not merely apart from his fellows but in a sense above them.\nHis utterances are received with a certain awe, and so far as they\nare intelligible are taken as predictions. He is in general secure\nfrom ill-treatment, and though he do no work he is not allowed to\nwant. The strangest case which I encountered was that of a man,\nunquestionably mad, who wandered from place to place and seemed to be\nknown everywhere. I met him in all three times, in Athens, in Tenos,\nand in Thessaly. He had no fixed home, did no work, and was usually\npenniless; but a wild manner, a rolling eye, and an extraordinary power\nof conducting his part of a conversation in metrical, if not highly\npoetical, form sufficed to obtain for him lodging, food, and clothing,\nand even a free passage, it appeared, on the Greek coasting steamers.\nWhether the long monologues in verse in which he sometimes indulged\nwere also improvisations, I could not of course tell; but once to have\nheard and seen his delivery of them was to understand why, among a\nsuperstitious people, he passed for a prophet. He was a modern type of\nthose old seers whose name \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 was believed by Plato to have been\nformed from the verb \u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018to be mad\u2019; his frenzy really gave the\nappearance of inspiration.\n\nDreams furnish a more sober and naturally also a more general means\nof communion with the gods; and the belief in them as a channel of\ndivine revelation is both firmly rooted and widely spread. This indeed\nis only natural. The change from paganism to Christianity, even if it\nhad been more thorough and complete than it actually has been, would\nprobably not have affected this article of faith. So long as a people\nbelieve in any one or more deities not wholly removed from human\naffairs, it is logically competent for them to regard their dreams as a\nspecial communication to them from heaven; and Christianity, far from\nrepudiating the old pagan idea, confirmed it by biblical authority. The\nGreek Church, as we shall see, has made effective use of it.\n\nThe degree of importance universally attached in old time to dreams is\ntoo well known to all students of Greek literature to call for comment.\nArtemidorus\u2019 prefatory remarks to his _Oneirocritica_, or \u2018Treatise on\nthe interpretation of dreams,\u2019 and his criticism of former exponents of\nthe same science, would alone prove that public interest in the subject\nmust indeed have been great to stimulate so serious and so large a\nliterature. There is the same practical evidence of a similar interest\nin modern Greece. Books of the same nature are sought after and\nconsulted no less eagerly now than then. A new edition of some \u039c\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2\n\u1f48\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, or \u2018Great Dream-interpreter,\u2019 figures constantly in the\nadvertisements of Athenian newspapers, and the public demand for such\nworks is undeniable. In isolated homesteads, to which the Bible has\nnever found its way, I have several times seen a grimy tattered copy\nof such a book preserved among the most precious possessions of the\nfamily, and honoured with a place on the shelf where stood the _icon_\nof the household\u2019s patron-saint and whence hung his holy lamp.\n\nOne of the pieces of information most frequently imparted to men in\ndreams is the situation of some buried treasure. The precautions\nnecessary for unearthing it, namely complete reticence as to the\ndream, and the sacrifice of a cock, have already been mentioned[795].\nThis kind of dream has been utilized by the Greek Church. There is\nno article of ecclesiastical property of more value than a venerable\n_icon_; to any church or monastery which aspires to become a great\nreligious centre an ancient and reputable _icon_, competent to work\nmiracles, is indispensable.\n\nNow the most obvious way of obtaining such pictures is, it seems, to\ndig them up. A few weeks underground will have given the right tone\nto the crudest copy of crude Byzantine art, and all that is required,\nin order to determine the spot for excavation, is a dream on the part\nof some person privy to the interment. It was on this system that the\nmiracle-working _icon_ of Tenos came to be unearthed on the very day\nthat the standard of revolt from Turkey was raised, thus making the\nisland the home of patriotism as well as of religion. And this is no\nsolitary example; the number of _icons_ exhumed in obedience to dreams\nis immense; wherever the traveller goes in Greece, he is wearied with\nthe same reiterated story, and if the picture in question happens to\nbe of the Panagia, there is often an appendix to the effect that the\npainter of it was St Luke--an attribution which can only have been\nbased on clerical criticism of the style. Inspection is now difficult;\nthe old pagan custom of covering venerable statues with gold or silver\nfoil by way of thank-offering[796] has, to avoid idolatry, been\ntransferred to _icons_; and in many cases only the faces and the hands\nof the saints depicted are left visible, the outlines of the rest\nof the picture being merely incised upon the silver foil. But, with\ninspection thus limited, the layman does not detect in any crudity of\nstyle a sufficient reason why the saintly painter, if only he could\nhave foreseen the ordinary decoration of Greek churches, should have\nhad his productions put out of sight in the ground. Nevertheless the\nstory of the origin of the _icon_ is believed as readily as the story\nof its finding.\n\nNor is it only in stories that the discovery of _icons_ in obedience\nto dreams is heard of. During my stay in Greece a village schoolmaster\nembarrassed the Education Office by applying for a week\u2019s holiday in\norder to direct a party of his fellow-villagers in digging up an _icon_\nof which he had dreamt, and to build a chapel for it on the spot.\nIt was felt that a body concerned with religious as well as secular\ninstruction ought not to commit the impiety of refusing such a request,\nbut it was feared that other schoolmasters would be encouraged to dream.\n\nBesides those visions which are concerned with the finding of treasure\nor of _icons_, that class of dream also may be noticed in which is\ngiven some divine communication as to the healing of the sick. Many a\ntime I have met in some sanctuary of miraculous repute peasants from a\nfar-off village, who have travelled from one end of Greece to another,\nbringing wife or child, in the faith that mind will be restored or\nsickness healed; time after time their story is the same, that they\nwere bidden in a dream to go and tarry so many days in such a church,\nand they have started off at once, obedient to what they feel to be a\npromise of divine help, begging their way may be for many days, but\nunflinchingly hopeful. And then comes the long sojourn in a strange\nvillage, for a mere visit is not always enough; weeks and months they\nwait, sleeping each night in the holy precincts and if possible at the\nfoot of the _icon_, hoping and believing that some mysterious virtue of\nthe place will heal the sufferer, or at the least that in a fresh dream\nthey will be told what is next to be done. And if nothing happen--for\nnow and then rest or change of air or, it may be, faith[797] effects\nthe cure desired--they return home with hope lessened but belief\nunshaken, ready to obey again if another message be vouchsafed to them\nfrom the dream-land of heaven.\nSuch dreams as these are regarded as spontaneous revelations of the\ndivine will, granted possibly in response to prayer, but in no way\ncontrolled or procured by any previous action of the dreamer. But there\nis one curious custom, observed by the girls of Greece, by which dreams\nare deliberately induced as a means of foreknowing their matrimonial\ndestinies. On the eve of St Catharine\u2019s day[798] most appropriately,\nfor she is the patroness of all marrying and giving in marriage, but\nsometimes also on the first day of Lent[799], the girls knead and bake\ncakes (\u1f00\u03c1\u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1) of which, as their name implies, the chief\ningredient is salt. By consuming undue quantities of this concoction,\nand often by assuaging the consequent thirst with an equally undue\nquantity of wine, they produce a condition of body eminently suited\nto cause a troubled sleep, and, their minds being already absorbed in\nspeculations on marriage, it is little wonder if their dreams reveal to\nthem their future husbands. How far this custom is now taken seriously,\nI cannot determine; in some districts it has certainly degenerated into\na somewhat disreputable game. But the fact that the intoxication of the\ngirls is tolerated on this occasion among a peasantry whose men even\nare seldom drunk except on certain religious occasions--on Easter-day\nand after funerals--proves clearly that the custom was once, as I think\nit sometimes is now, a genuinely religious rite and an acknowledged\nmeans of divination.\n\nA modification of this custom, preferred in some districts as obviating\nalike the unpleasant process of eating salt-cake and the disreputable\nsequel thereto, substitutes for dreaming two other ancient methods of\ndivination--divination by drawing lots, a primitive system common to\nmany peoples but employed nevertheless even by established oracles[800]\nin ancient Greece, and divination from chance words overheard by the\ndiviner, a method which is, I think, more exclusively Hellenic. For\nthis form of the custom also salt-cakes are required, but only a morsel\nof each is eaten, and the remainder of the cake is divided into three\nportions, to which are tied respectively red, black, and blue ribbands.\nEach girl then places her three pieces under her pillow for the night,\nand in the morning draws out one by chance. The red ribband denotes a\nbachelor, the black a widower, and the blue a stranger, that is to say\nsome one other than a fellow-villager. Then, in order to supplement\nwith fuller detail the indications of the lot, the girl takes her stand\nin the door-way of the cottage and listens to the casual conversation\nof the neighbours or the passers-by; and the first name, trade,\noccupation, and suchlike which she hears mentioned are taken to be\nthose of her future husband.\n\nAnother similar custom, practised only by girls and not necessarily\ntaken more seriously than a game of forfeits, preserves in its modern\nname \u1f41 \u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2[801] the old word \u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd, and the purpose of the\ncustom is to obtain that which Homer[802] actually denoted by \u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd,\na presage drawn from chance words. The preliminaries of the ceremony\nare as follows. On the eve of the feast of St John the Baptist[803] a\nboy (who for choice should be the first-born of parents still living)\nis sent to fetch fresh water from the spring or well. This water is\nknown as \u1f00\u03bc\u03af\u03bb\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc, \u2018speechless water,\u2019 because the boy who brings\nit is forbidden to speak to anyone on his way. Each girl then drops\ninto the vessel of water some object such as a coin, a ring, or, most\nfrequently, an apple as her token. The vessel is then closed up and\nleft for the night on the roof of a house or some other open place\n\u2018where the stars may see it.\u2019 The proceedings of the next morning\nvary. According to one traveller[804], each girl first takes out her\nown apple--for he mentions only this token--and then draws off some of\nthe water into a smaller vessel. This vessel is then supported by two\nother girls on the points of their four thumbs and begins to revolve\nof its own accord. If it turn towards the right, the girl may expect\nto marry as she wishes; if to the left, otherwise. Also, he says, they\nwash their hands with this water and then go out into the road, and\ntake the first name they hear spoken as that of their future husband.\nThis latter part of the ceremony is true to the meaning of the word\n\u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 and is a genuine instance of divination from chance words.\nBut neither this nor the former part as described by Magnoncourt is\ngenerally practised now. The usual procedure is either for the boy who\nfetched the water or for the girls in rotation to plunge the hand in\nand draw out the first object touched, improvising or reciting at the\nsame time some couplet favourable or adverse to the love or matrimonial\nprospects of her who shall be found to own the forthcoming object; and\nso in turn, until each girl has received back her token and learnt the\npresage of her fate.\n\nThe recitation of possibly prepared distichs by those who are taking\npart in the ceremony is certainly a less pure method of divination\nthan the earlier practice described by Magnoncourt. The prediction is\ndeliberately provided, and the element of chance or of divine guidance\nis confined to the drawing of the token. The older method exhibits\nmore clearly the relation of the modern custom to the superstitious\nobservation of \u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 from the time of the _Odyssey_[805] onwards.\nThus when Odysseus heard the suitors threaten to take the beggar Irus\nto Epirus, \u2018even to the tyrant Echetus the destroyer of all men,\u2019 he\nhailed the chance words as a divine ratification of his hope that soon\nthe suitors should take their own journey to another destroyer of all\nmen, even the tyrant of the nether world, and \u2018he rejoiced in the\npresage\u2019 (\u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9)[806].\n\nThe same method of divination was frequently employed in the classical\nage also, and that too not only privately[807] but even by public\noracles. It was thus that Hermes Agoraeus at Pherae made response to\nhis worshippers. The enquirer presented himself towards evening before\nthe statue of the god, burnt incense on the hearth, filled with oil and\nlighted some bronze lamps that stood there, placed a certain bronze\ncoin of the local currency upon the altar, whispered his question into\nthe ear of the statue, and then at once holding his hands over his ears\nmade his way out of the agora. Once outside, he removed his hands,\nand the first words which greeted his ears were accepted as the god\u2019s\nresponse to his question[808]. A primitive statue of Hermes with the\nsurname \u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 existed also at Pitane[809], which place may be the\nactual site of that \u2018sanctuary of chance utterances\u2019 (\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd)\nto which, according to Pausanias[810], the people of Smyrna resorted\nfor oracles. And at Thebes again Apollo Spodios gave his replies in\nlike manner[811].\n\nClearly then in antiquity divination from chance words was a\nwell-established religious institution; and at the present day, though\nthe practice is rarer, its character is unchanged. The religious nature\nof the two customs which I have described is shown by their association\nwith the festivals of St Catharine and St John the Baptist; and though\nin different localities or periods a certain amount of divination by\nthe lot or other means has been mixed up with divination from chance\nwords, the latter obviously forms the essence of both rites, supplying\nas it does to the one its very name, and supplementing in the other\nthe meagre indications of the lot with more detailed information. A\ngirl may learn from the colour of the ribband attached to the piece\nof salt-cake which she happens to draw whether her future husband is\nbachelor, widower, or stranger; but only from the chance utterance\naccepted as an answer to her own secret questionings can she learn the\nname and home and occupation and appearance of her destined husband.\n\nThe next branch of divination, the science of reading omens of success\nor failure in the objects which a traveller meets on his road, is\nstill largely cultivated. In old days indeed it was so elaborate a\nscience that a treatise, as Suidas tells us, could be written on\nthis one method of divination alone. Possibly the same feat might be\naccomplished at the present day if a complete collection were made of\nall the superstitions on the subject of \u2018meeting\u2019 (\u1f00\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1) in all\nthe villages of Greece. How instructive the results might be, I cannot\nforecast; but at any rate the task is beyond me, and I must content\nmyself with mentioning a few of the commonest examples. To meet a\npriest is always unlucky, and for men even more so than for women, for,\nunless they take due precautions as they pass him[812], their virility\nis likely to be impaired; and the omen is even worse if the priest\nhappen to be riding a donkey, for even the name of that animal is not\nmentioned by some of the peasants without an apology[813]. To meet a\nwitch also is unfortunate, and since any old woman may be a witch, it\nis wise to make the sign of the cross before passing her. A cripple is\nalso ominous of failure in an enterprise. On the other hand to meet an\ninsane person is usually accounted a good omen, for insanity implies\nclose communion with the powers above. To meet a woman with child is\nalso fortunate, for it indicates that the journey undertaken will bear\nfruit; and the peasant by way of acknowledgement never fails to bow or\nto bare his head, and if he be exceptionally polite may wish the woman\na good confinement. Of animals those which most commonly forebode ill\nare the hare, the rat, the stoat, the weasel, and any kind of snake.\nIn Aetolia superstition is so strong regarding these that the mere\nsight of one of them, or indeed of the trail of a snake across the\npath, is enough to deter many a peasant from his day\u2019s work and to send\nhim back home to sit idly secure from morn till night; and even the\nmore stout-hearted will cross themselves or spit three times before\nproceeding.\n\nThat some of these beliefs date from classical times is certain.\nAristophanes, playing upon the use of \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2, \u2018a bird,\u2019 in the sense\nof \u2018omen,\u2019 rallies the Athenians upon calling \u2018a meeting a bird,\na sound a bird, a servant a bird, and an ass a bird[814]\u2019; and\nthere can be little doubt that the ass belonged then as now to the\ncategory of objects ominous to encounter on the road; and the same\nauthor[815], corroborated in this case by Theophrastus\u2019 portrait of\nthe superstitious man[816], speaks to the dread inspired by a weasel\ncrossing a man\u2019s path. The snake too, it can hardly be doubted, was,\nowing perhaps to its association with tombs, an object of awe to the\nsuperstitious out of doors as well as within the house[817]. On the\nother hand an insane person apparently was in Theophrastus\u2019 time not\nas now an omen of good but of evil, to be averted by spitting on the\nbosom[818]. But though the modern interpretations of such omens may not\nbe identical in every respect with the old, enough has been said to\nshow that the science of divining from the encounters of the road is\nstill flourishing.\n\nThe observation of birds is in many cases closely allied with the\nlast method of divination; for naturally the peasant as he goes on\nhis way is as quick to notice the birds as any other object which\nhe encounters. But since auspices may also be taken under other\nconditions, it will be well to observe the old line of demarcation,\nand to treat this branch of augury, as it was treated in ancient\nhandbooks[819], separately. Moreover the attitude of the modern folk\ntowards these two branches of divination justifies the division.\nThe superstitions which I have just recorded are somewhat blindly\nand unintelligently held; but in the taking of auspices proper the\nordinances of ancient lore which the people follow are felt by them\nto be doubly sanctioned--by reason as well as by antiquity; they\napprehend the theory on which their practice is based--the idea that\nbirds are better suited than any other animate thing, by virtue both\nof their rapid flight and of their keen and extended vision, to be the\nmessengers between gods and men.\n\nIn practice this branch of divination is still concerned chiefly with\nthe large and predatory birds to which alone was originally applied the\nterm \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2. \u2018The largest, the strongest, the most intelligent, and at\nthe same time those whose solitary habits gave them more individual\ncharacter,\u2019 says a French writer[820], \u2018were deliberately preferred by\nthe diviners of antiquity as the subjects of their observation. For\nthese and these only was reserved at first the name \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2, \u201csolitary\nbird[821],\u201d or bird of presage\u2019; and he goes on to suggest that the\nOriental belief in the magical power of blood to revivify the souls\nof the dead and to stimulate prophecy influenced the selection for a\nprophetic _r\u00f4le_ of carnivorous birds such as might indeed often feed\non the entrails of those very victims from which sacrificial omens were\ntaken. But the reasons assigned by Plutarch for the pre-eminence of\nbirds among all other things as the messengers of heaven apply with so\nspecial a force to the special class of birds selected, that it seems\nunnecessary to search out reasons more abstruse.\n\n\u2018Birds,\u2019 he says[822], \u2018by their quickness and intelligence and their\nalertness in acting upon every thought, are a ready instrument for the\nuse of God, who can prompt their movements, their cries and songs,\ntheir pauses or wind-like flights, thus bidding some men check, and\nothers pursue to the end, their course of action or ambitions. It is on\nthis account that Euripides calls birds in general \u201cheralds of gods,\u201d\nwhile Socrates speaks of making himself \u201ca fellow-servant with swans.\u201d\u2019\n\nIn this special class of ominous birds the principal group, says\nthe same French writer[823], was composed of the eagle (\u1f00\u03b5\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2), the\nmessenger[824] of Zeus, the \u2018most perfect of birds[825]\u2019; the vulture\n(\u03b3\u03cd\u03c8), which closely rivalled even the king of birds[826]; the raven\n(\u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b1\u03be), the favourite and companion of Apollo, a bird so much observed\nthat there were specialists (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2) who studied no other\nspecies; and the carrion-crow (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03b7), transferred from the service\nof Apollo to that of Hera[827] or Athene[828]. These, it may safely be\nsaid, were observed at all periods. Of others, various species of hawk\n(\u1f35\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03be, \u1f34\u03c1\u03b7\u03be)--in particular that known as \u03ba\u03af\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, acting in Homeric\ntimes as the \u2018swift messenger of Apollo[829]\u2019 and thus rivalling the\nraven--and with them the heron[830] (\u1f10\u03c1\u03c9\u03b4\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2) enjoyed in early times\ngreat respect, but gradually fell out of favour with the augur. But as\nthese disappeared from the canon of ornithological divination, certain\nother birds were admitted, the wren[831] (\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c7\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2), the\nowl (\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u1fe6\u03be)[832], the \u03ba\u03c1\u03ad\u03be dubiously identified with our \u2018rail\u2019 (_crex\nrallus_, Linn.), and the woodpecker (\u03b4\u03c1\u03c5\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03ac\u03c0\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2).\n\nThe continuity of the art of taking auspices is at once obvious when\nit is found that the birds which the modern peasant most frequently\nobserves are of the very same class which furnished the Homeric\ngods with their special envoys. Eagles, vultures, hawks, ravens,\ncrows--these are still the chief messengers of heaven, and only one\nother bird can claim equality with them, that bird which in classical\ntimes symbolised wisdom, the owl.\n\nOf the methods pursued by the professional augurs in ancient Greece\nunfortunately less is known. The best treatise on the subject is that\nof Michael Psellus[833], written in the eleventh century; but probably\nancient works on the subject, such as that of Telegonus to which\nSuidas[834] refers, were then extant and contributed the bulk of his\ninformation. But even so it is the broad principles rather than the\ndetailed application of them which Psellus presents, and on them we\nmust in the main rely in comparing the modern science with the ancient.\n\nFirst of all the species of bird under observation had to be\nascertained; for the characters of different species were held to be\nso various that birds as closely cognate as the raven and the crow\nemployed wholly contrary methods of communication with mankind. \u2018If\nas we go out of our house to work,\u2019 says Psellus[835], \u2018we hear the\ncry of a raven behind or of a crow in front, it forebodes anxieties\nand difficulties in our business, while if a crow fly past and caw\non the left or a raven do likewise on the other side, it gives hope\nand confidence.\u2019 The crow then was not subject even to the rule\nconcerning right and left which applied, so far as I know, to all\nother birds, but, thanks to some innate contrariety, reversed the\nnormal significance of position, and therewith also of cry and of\nflight[836]. Such exceptions even to the most general rules made the\naccurate identification of species an indispensable preliminary to\nsuccessful augury. The same primary condition still holds. The diviner\nmust be able to distinguish the cawing of a crow settled on his roof\nfrom that of a jackdaw; the former is an omen of death, as perhaps it\nwas in Hesiod\u2019s day[837], to some member of his family, the latter\nheralds the coming of a letter from a friend abroad. Again he must be\nable to distinguish the brown owl (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1) from the tawny owl\n(\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9)[838]; the message of the former may be good or bad, as\nwe shall see, according to its actions, while the latter brings only\npresages of woe.\n\nThe species having been identified, there remained, according to\nPsellus[839], four possible points in the behaviour of the bird itself\n(all of them liable to be modified in significance by the position\nof the observer) to be noticed and interpreted; these were its cry\n(anciently \u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\u03ae or \u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03ae), its flight (\u03c0\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2), its posture when\nsettled (\u1f15\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03ad\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1), and any movement or action performed by it\nwhile thus settled (\u1f10\u03bd\u03ad\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1). These divisions are still recognised in\nmodern augury.\n\nThe cry is observed in the case of many birds. The scream of an eagle\nis a warning of fighting or conflict to come. The croak of a raven,\nespecially if it be thrice repeated, while the bird is flying over a\nhouse or a village, is a premonition of death to one of the inmates.\nThe laugh of the woodpecker, owing I suppose to its mocking sound,\nis a sign that an intrigue against some one\u2019s person or pocket is in\ntrain. The repeated call of the cuckoo within the bounds of a village\nforebodes an epidemic therein.\n\nFlight is chiefly observed in the case of the birds of prey. The\nsuccessful swoop of an eagle upon its prey, or the rapid determined\nflight of a hawk in pursuit of some other bird, is an encouragement to\nthe observer (provided of course that the birds are seen on his right\nhand) to pursue untiringly any enterprise in which he is engaged, and\nis a promise of success and profit therein. In Scyros I once pointed\nout to my guide a large hawk chasing a flock of pigeons, which he at\nonce hailed as a good omen and watched carefully as long as it was\nin sight; and when I asked him what kind of hawk it was, he promptly\nreplied that that kind was known as \u03c4\u03c3\u03af\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2--the goshawk, I believe.\nThis word is a modern form of the ancient \u03ba\u03af\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2[840], and a closely\nsimilar incident is mentioned in the _Odyssey_, when this bird, the\n\u2018swift messenger of Apollo,\u2019 is seen by Telemachus on the right,\ntearing a pigeon in its talons and scattering its feathers to the\nground, and is taken to foreshow the fate that awaits Eurymachus[841].\n\nThe position occupied and the posture are observed above all in the\ncase of owls. The \u2018brown owl\u2019 (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1), perched upon the roof of\na house and suggesting by its inert posture that it is waiting in true\noriental fashion for an event expected within a few days, forebodes a\ndeath in the household; but if it settle there for a few moments only,\nalert and vigilant, and then fly off elsewhere, it betokens merely\nthe advent and sojourn there of some acquaintance. Another species\nof owl, our \u2018tawny owl\u2019 I believe, known popularly as \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9 or\n\u2018Charon\u2019s bird[842],\u2019 is, as the name suggests, a messenger of evil\nunder all circumstances, whether it be heard hooting or be seen sitting\nin deathlike stillness or flitting past like a ghost in the gathering\ndarkness.\n\nThe casual actions and movements of birds are less observed now than\nthe cry, flight, and posture; nor am I aware of any auspices being\ndrawn therefrom with regard to any matters of higher importance and\ninterest than the prospective state of the weather. For such humdrum\nprognostication poultry[843] serve better than the more dignified\nbirds--perhaps because their movements on the ground are more easily\nobserved--and by pluming themselves, by scratching a hole in which to\ndust themselves over, and by roosting on one leg or with their heads\nturned in some particular direction foretell rain, fine weather, or a\nchange of wind.\n\nAll these auspices are further modified, as in ancient times, by\nthe position of the observer in reference to the bird observed. The\nright hand side is the region of good omen, whether the bird be seen\nor heard; and if it be a case of the bird crossing the path of the\nobserver, passage from left to right is to be desired, on the principle\nthat all is well that ends well; flight from right to left indicates\na decline of good fortune. Motion towards the right, it may be noted,\nhas always been the auspicious direction in Greece. In that direction,\naccording to Homer, the herald carried round the lot which had been\nshaken from the helmet, to be claimed by that Chieftain whose token\nit might prove to be[844]; in that direction Odysseus in beggar-guise\nproceeded round the board, asking alms of the suitors[845]; in that\ndirection even the gods passed their wine[846]. And in like manner\nat the present day wine is passed, cards are played, and at weddings\nbride and bridegroom are led round the altar, from left to right. Thus\nthen in modern augury too, if the eagle\u2019s scream, which forebodes\nfighting, be heard on the right, the hearer will come well out of it,\nbut if on the left, he is like to be worsted. If the woodpecker laugh\non the right, the hearer may proceed with full confidence to cheat\nhis neighbour, but if the sound come from the left, he must be wary\nto baffle intrigues against himself. If the hawk pursue its prey on\nthe right or across a man\u2019s path from left to right, he may take the\npursuer as the type of himself and go about the work in hand with\nassurance of success; but if the omen be on the other side or in the\nother direction, some enemy is the hawk and he himself is the pigeon to\nbe plucked.\n\nThe interpretation of auspices is also affected by number. A single\nor twice repeated cry of a bird may be of good omen, but, if the same\nnote be heard three times, the meaning may be reversed. This applies in\nCephallenia, as I was told, to the case already mentioned of a raven\nflying over a house; one or two croaks are a presage of security or\nplenty, but three are a warning of imminent death. In this detail a\npronounced change of feeling towards the number three is responsible\nfor what must, I think, be a contravention of the ancient rules in the\ncase. According to Michael Psellus, an even number of cries from the\ncrow were lucky and an odd number unlucky; but the crow, as we have\nseen, was perverse and abnormal; reversing therefore the rule in the\ncase of other birds, we find that an odd number of croaks from a raven\nshould be lucky. But the number three, which in old times was lucky, is\nnow universally unlucky; the peasant often will apologize for having to\nmention the number; and Tuesday, being called \u03a4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b7, the \u2018third day\u2019 of\nthe week, is the unlucky day. But if in this case the significance of\na particular number has changed, the principle of taking number into\nconsideration is indubitably ancient.\n\nMoreover there are some cases in which even the particular application\nof the old principle holds good. The first, almost the only, literary\npoet of modern Greece (as distinguished from the many composers of\nunwritten ballads), who found beauty in the popular beliefs and music\nin the vulgar tongue, makes his heroine thus divine her own death:\n\n    \u039a\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u2019\u03c1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u2019 \u1f41\u03bc\u03ac\u03b4\u03b7\n    \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03ac\u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u2019 \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f40\u03b3\u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f0d\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u00b7\n    \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f41 \u2019\u03a1\u03c9\u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f70 \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\n    \u03ba\u2019 \u1f26\u03c1\u03b8\u2019 \u1f21 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bd\u03ac \u03bc\u2019 \u03b5\u1f51\u03c1\u1fc7 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c3\u03bc\u03af\u03be\u1fc3 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1[847].\n\n \u201cAnd the little birds that have come consorting close together are a\n sign that soon I am to be wed in Hades. I see that Erotocritus has\n died in a strange land, and his soul has come to seek me, to mingle\n with me.\u201d\n\nHere neither the species of the birds nor their cry nor flight is\ntaken into account; the whole significance of the omen turns on the\nclose company which they kept. And for the method of interpreting it\nwe can go back to Aristotle. \u2018Seers observe whether birds settle apart\nor settle together; the former indicates enmity, the latter mutual\npeace[848].\u2019\n\nLastly, as regards practical augury from birds at the present day it\nmay be laid down as a rule that any extraordinary phenomenon, exciting\nin the simple peasant\u2019s mind more alarm than curiosity, passes for\na bad omen. The hen that so far forgets her sex as to crow like a\ncock falls under suspicion and the knife at once. To the professional\ndiviner of old time probably such incidents were less distressing; he\ncould observe such striking anomalies in as calmly judicial a spirit\nas the details of more ordinary occurrences. But at the present day,\nthough there are magicians in plenty, there are no specialists, to my\nknowledge, in the science of auspices. The modern peasant does not\nentice the birds with food to a special spot, as did Teiresias[849],\nin order to listen to their talk and to gain from them deliberately\nthe knowledge of things that are and things that shall be. But amateur\nthough he be, lacking in power of minute observation and in science of\ndetailed interpretation, such rudiments of the art as he possesses are\nan heritage from the old Hellenic masters of divination.\n\nSo far then as the broad principles of practical auspice-taking are\nconcerned, the proofs of the identity of modern with ancient methods\nare sufficiently complete; and it remains only to show that the\nmodern practice of this art is not a mere inert survival of customs\nno longer understood but is in truth informed by the same intelligent\nreligious spirit as in antiquity. What that spirit was, is admirably\ndefined in that passage of Plutarch which I have already quoted, in\nwhich he claims that the quickness of birds and their intelligence and\ntheir alertness to act upon every thought qualify them, beyond all\nother living things, for the part of messengers between gods and men.\nCelsus too in his polemics against Christianity, made frank confession\nof the old faith: \u2018We believe in the prescience of all animals and\nparticularly of birds. Diviners are only interpreters of their\npredictions. If then the birds ... impart to us by signs all that God\nhas revealed to them, it follows of necessity that they have a closer\nintimacy than we with the divine, that they surpass us in knowledge\nof it, and are dearer to God than we[850].\u2019 Indeed it might seem that\nthere was hope of birds knowing that which a god sought in vain to\nlearn. To Demeter enquiring for her ravished child \u2018no god nor mortal\nman would tell the true tale, nor came there to her any bird of omen as\nmessenger of truth[851].\u2019 In effect, the special aptitude of birds to\ncarry divine messages to men was never questioned in ancient Greece;\nit was a very axiom of religion, without which the whole science of\nauspices would have been a baseless fabrication.\n\nNow it would have been no matter of surprise for us, if practical\naugury had still been in vogue at the present day and the theory had\nbeen forgotten; if the customs born of a belief in the prophetic power\nof birds had, with the inveteracy of all custom, outlived the parent\nprinciple. Rather it is surprising that among all the perplexity\nand bewilderment of thought caused by the long series of changes,\nreligious, political, and social, through which Greece has passed,\nthis recognition of birds as intermediaries between heaven and earth\nhas abated none of its force or its purity, neither vanquished by the\ndirect antagonism of Christianity, nor contaminated by the influx of\nSlavonic or other foreign thought. Yet so it is; and the perusal of any\ncollection of modern folk-songs will show that the idea is fully as\nfamiliar now as in the literature of old time.\n\nA few examples may be cited; and in selecting them I shall exclude\nfrom consideration those many Klephtic ballads which open with a\nconversation between three \u2018birds[852]\u2019; for the word \u2018bird\u2019 (\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03af)\nseems to have become among the Klephts a colloquial equivalent for\n\u2018spy\u2019 or \u2018scout,\u2019 suggested perhaps by the qualities of intelligence,\nalertness, and speed required, and it is admittedly[853] impossible\nin many cases to determine whether the term has its literal or its\nconventional meaning. Moreover these openings of ballads have passed\ninto a somewhat set form; and formulae are no more proof of the\ncontinuance of belief than mummies of the continuance of life.\n\nBut, even with the range of trustworthy evidence thus limited, the\nresidue of popular poetry contains ample store of passages in which\nbirds are recognised as the best messengers between this world and\nanother. And here, as we shall see, the reiteration of the idea is not\nuniform in expression; the thought has not been crystallised into a\nnumber of beautiful but inert phrases; it is still alive, still young,\nstill procreative of fresh poetry.\n\nThere is a well-known folk-song, recorded in several versions, which\ntells how a young bride, trusting in the might of her nine brothers and\nin her husband\u2019s valour, boasted that she had no fear of Charos. \u2018A\nbird, an evil bird, went unto Charos, and told him, and Charos shot an\narrow at her and the girl grew pale; a second and a third he shot and\nstretched her on her death-bed[854].\u2019 The special bird in the poet\u2019s\nmind was, one may surmise, \u2018Charon\u2019s bird,\u2019 the tawny owl, which as\nI have noted is always a messenger of evil. In another poem a bird\nissues from the lower world and brings doleful tidings to women who\nweep over their lost ones. \u2018A little bird came forth from the world\nbelow; his claws were red and his feathers black, reddened with blood\nand blackened with the soil. Mothers run to see him, and sisters to\nlearn of him, and wives of good men to get true tidings. Mother brings\nsugar, and sister scented wine, and wives of good men bear amaranth in\ntheir hands. \u201cEat the sugar, bird, and drink of the scented wine, and\nsmell the amaranth, and confess to us the truth.\u201d \u201cGood women, that\nwhich I saw, how should I tell it or confess it? I saw Charos riding\nin the plains apace; he dragged the young men by the hair, the old\nmen by their hands, and ranged at his saddle-bow he bore the little\nchildren[855].\u201d\u2019\n\nNor is it only between earth and the nether world that birds carry\ntidings to and fro; earth and heaven are equally united by their\nministry. An historical ballad, belonging to the year 1825, when\nIbrahim Pasha had just occupied the fortress of Navarino and other\nplaces in the Morea and was about to join in investing Mesolonghi,\ngives to this idea unusually imaginative treatment; for the bird which\nbrings from heaven encouragement and prophecies of future success (one\nof which was literally fulfilled in the battle of Navarino two years\nlater) is an incarnation of the soul of a fallen Greek warrior. \u2018\u201cWould\nI were a bird\u201d (I said), \u201cthat I might fly and go to Mesolonghi, and\nsee how goes the sword-play and the musketry, how fight the unconquered\nfalcons[856] of Roumelie.\u201d And a bird of golden plumage warbled answer\nto me: \u201cHold, good George; an thou thirstest for Arab[857] blood, here\ntoo are infidels for thee to slay as many as thou wilt. Dost see far\naway yonder the Turkish ships? Charos is standing over them, and they\nshall be turned to ashes.\u201d \u201cGood bird, how didst thou learn this that\nthou tellest me?\u201d \u201cA bird I seem to thee to be, but no bird am I. Yon\nisland that I espied for thee afar belongeth to Navarino; \u2019twas there\nI spent my last breath a-fighting. Tsamados am I, and unto the world\nhave I come; from the heavens where I dwell I discern you clearly,\nyet yearn to see you face to face.\u201d \u201cNay, what shouldest thou see now\namong us in our unhappy land? Knowest thou not what befell and now is\nin the Morea?\u201d \u201cGood George, be not distraught, consent not to despair;\nthough the Morea fight not now, a time will come again when they will\nfight like wild beasts and chase their foe. Piteously shall bones\nlie scattered before Mesolonghi, and there shall the lions of Suli\nrejoice.\u201d And the bird flew away and went up to the heavens[858].\u2019\n\nSuch an identification of the winged messenger with the soul of a\ndead man does not represent the ordinary thought of the people; it is\na conceit peculiar to this ballad; but the very fact that the dead\nwarrior is made to assume the guise of a bird in order to communicate\nwith his living comrades shows how strong is the popular feeling that\nbirds are the natural intermediaries between earth and heaven.\n\nThus then the ancient belief that birds are among the most apt\ninstruments of divine and human communion has survived as little\nimpaired by lapse of ages as the practical science of augury founded\nupon it. Perhaps indeed it has even fared better; for practical augury\nhas, I suspect, suffered from the paucity or extinction of professional\naugurs, who alone could be expected to remember and to transmit to\ntheir successors all the complex details of their art, whereas the old\nfaith may even have gained thereby; for history, I suppose, is not\nvoid of instances in which the professional exponents of a religion\nhave fostered its forms and have starved its spirit, forgetting their\nministry in their desire for mastery, and making their office the sole\ngate of communion with heaven. But, be that as it may, such decline as\nthere may have been from the complete and elaborate system of auspices\nwhich the ancients possessed is not at any rate due to any abatement of\nthe ancient belief in the mediation of birds.\n\nNot of course that the peasant, when he draws an omen from the eagle\u2019s\nstoop or the raven\u2019s croak, pauses at all to reflect on the general\nprinciple by which his act is guided; his recognition of the principle\nis then as formal and unconscious as is his avowal of Christianity when\nhe crosses himself. But if ever in meditative mood he seeks the reason\nand basis of his auspice-taking, he falls back, as the popular poetry\nproves, on the doctrine that the powers above and below have chosen\nbirds as their messengers to mankind.\n\nDoubtless many other peoples have held or still hold kindred beliefs;\nbut the fact that in Modern Greece the same class of birds is\nobserved as in Ancient Greece and that the same broad principles of\ninterpretation are followed is sufficient warranty that the underlying\nbelief is also a genuinely Hellenic heritage.\n\nThe next method of divination to be considered, that namely in which\nomens were obtained from sacrifice, was anciently divided into two\nbranches; in one the diviner concerned himself with the dissection of\nthe victim, and based his predictions on the appearance of various\ninternal parts; in the other, special portions of the victim were\nconsumed by fire, and omens were read in the flame or smoke therefrom.\nOf the latter I have discovered no trace in Modern Greece; but the\nformer still survives in some districts.\n\nNaturally however this mode of divination is less frequently practised\nthan that with which I have just dealt. The cry or the flight of birds\ncan be observed without let or hindrance in the course of daily work,\nand, what is more important still, without cost; while this method\ninvolves the slaying of a victim, and is consequently confined to\nhigh days and holidays when the peasants eat meat. But when occasion\noffers or even demands the performance of the rite, the presages drawn\ntherefrom are the more valued because they are less readily to be\nobtained.\n\nAnd the value attached to them is by no means diminished because the\nmethod pursued is less intelligent than the taking of auspices. In the\nlatter case, as we have seen, the common-folk have a reasonable basis\nfor their actions in the universal belief that birds are by nature\nqualified to act as messengers between gods and men; in the former the\npeasants are more blindly and mechanically repeating the practices of\ntheir forefathers. They would be hard put to it to say how it comes to\npass that divine counsels should be found figured in the recesses of a\nsheep\u2019s anatomy. But in their very inability to answer this question,\nno less than in their acceptance of the means of communion, they\nresemble their ancestors; for, with all their love of enquiry, they too\npractised the art without answering conclusively or unanimously the\nquestionings of their own hearts concerning it. One theory advanced\nwas that the anatomical construction of the victim was directly\naffected by the prayers and religious rites to which it was subjected.\nAnother held the internal symptoms to be inexorable and immutable,\nand saw divine agency only in the promptings of the sacrificer\u2019s mind\nand his choice of an animal whose entrails were suitably inscribed\nby nature[859]. A third view, advocated by Plato, was that the liver\nwas as a mirror in which divine thought was reflected; during life\nthis divine thought might remain hidden as tacit intuition or be\nmanifested in prophetic utterance; after death the divine visions\ncontemplated by the soul were left recorded in imagery upon the liver,\nand faded only by degrees[860]. The obvious objection to this theory\nwas its too practical corollary, that human entrails would be the most\ninteresting to consult. Less barbarous therefore in consequences, if\nalso less exquisite in idea, was the fourth doctrine, propounded by\nPhilostratus, that the liver had no power of presage unless it were\ncompletely emancipated from the passions and surrendered wholly to\ndivine influence--a condition best fulfilled by animals of peaceful and\napathetic temperament[861].\n\nBut while these theories were built up and knocked down, the practices\nwhich they were meant to explain continued firm and unshaken. The\nfact seems to be that the custom of consulting entrails was not\nnative to Greece. In Homeric times the liver was not dissected in\nsearch of omens, and such observations as were made were directed to\nthe brightness of the flame and the ascent of the smoke from burnt\nofferings and not to any malformation or discoloration of the victim\u2019s\ninward parts. All that could be learnt was whether the sacrifice, and\ntherefore also the prayers accompanying it, were accepted or rejected.\nThe complexities of post-Homeric divination from burnt sacrifice\nand the whole system of inspecting the entrails seem to have been a\nforeign importation. Whether the source was Etruscan, Carian, Cyprian,\nBabylonian, or Egyptian, does not here concern us[862]; the practices\nwere in origin foreign to Greece, and the ancients, in referring the\ninvention of them to Delphus, son of Poseidon, to Prometheus, to\nSisyphus, or to Orpheus[863], were guilty not only of sheer fabrication\nbut of manifest anachronism[864]. Homer convicts them.\n\nIt is then the foreign origin of these methods of divination which\nexplains the attitude of the ancient Greeks towards them. It was a\npractice, not a theory--a custom, not an idea--a conglomeration of\nusages, not a coherent and reasoned system--which was introduced\nfrom abroad. The Greeks accepted it readily as furnishing them with\none more means to that communion with their gods which to them was\na spiritual necessity. The principle of the machinery employed was\nunknown to them; but what matter? Its operation was commended by\nthe experience of others and soon tested by their own. The unknown\nprinciple long continued to excite interest, conjecture, speculation,\namong the educated and enlightened, but their failures to reach any\nfinal and unanimous conclusion never moved them to dispute the tested\nfact. And if this was the attitude of the educated, the common-folk of\nthose days must surely have been in the same position as the people\nof to-day--gladly accepting the usage and avowedly ignorant of the\nprinciple. Such blind acquiescence during so many centuries may seem\nindeed a disparagement of the Greeks\u2019 intelligence; but it is equally\na testimonial to their religious faith; it is the things which defy\nreasoning that are best worth believing; and among these the Greeks\nhave steadfastly numbered the writing of divine counsels on the\nsacrificial victim\u2019s inward parts.\n\nThe actual methods now pursued are also an inheritance from the ancient\nworld. The animal from which the Klephts a century ago are said to\nhave taken omens most successfully was the sheep, and the portion of\nits anatomy on which the tokens of the future were to be read was the\nshoulder-blade. The questions to which an answer was most often sought\nwere, as might be surmised from the life of the enquirers, questions\nof war. \u2018In this connexion,\u2019 says a Greek writer[865] of the first\nhalf of last century, when stories of the Klephts\u2019 life might still\nbe heard from their own lips, \u2018the shoulder-blade of a young lamb\nis ... a veritable Sibylline book; for its condition enables men to\nascertain beforehand the issue of an important engagement, the serious\nlosses on each side, the strength of the enemy, the reinforcements\nto be expected, and indeed the very moment when danger threatens\u2019;\nand he recounts, by way of illustration, the story of a Thessalian\nband of Klephts, whose captain, in the security of his own fastness,\nwas sitting divining in this way; suddenly he sprang up with the\nexclamation, \u2018The Turks have caught us alive,\u2019 and at the head of his\ntroop had only just time to break through the Turkish forces which were\nalready surrounding them.\n\nThat this method of divination was derived directly and with\nlittle deviation from the old system of inspecting shoulder-blades\n(\u1f60\u03bc\u03bf\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1) as known to Michael Psellus can hardly be doubted. \u2018If\nthe question be of war,\u2019 he says, \u2018a patch of red observed on the right\nside of the shoulder-blade, or a long dark line on the left, foreshows\na great war; but if both sides present their normal white appearance,\nit is an omen of peace to come[866].\u2019\n\nBut the days of patriot-outlaws are over now, and the questions\nsubmitted to the arbitrament of ovine shoulder-blades are of more\npeaceful bent. It is the shepherd now, and not the warrior, who thus\nresolves the uncertainties of the future. It is the vicissitudes of\nweather, not of war, that interest him; the birth of lambs, not the\ndeath of Turks. It is of plague, pestilence, and famine threatening his\nflock, not of battle and murder and sudden death for himself, that he\nseeks forewarning. But the same instrument of divination supplies the\nanswers.\n\nMy own knowledge of its use is obtained entirely from Acarnania\nand Aetolia; but the practice is also recorded from Zagorion in\nEpirus[867], and prevails too, I have been told, among the shepherds\nof Elis. The opportunity for it is, as I have said, offered only\nby certain feast-days, when the peasants indulge in meat. On other\noccasions, when the shepherds kill only in order to sell in the\ntowns, divination cannot be undertaken; for it is only after cooking\nthat the meat can be properly removed from the bone so as to leave\nit clean and legible. There is therefore no doubt an economical\nreason for confining this practice to certain religious festivals;\nbut this consideration must not be allowed to obscure the genuinely\nreligious character of the rite itself. In Zagorion, at the festivals\nin honour of the patron-saint of each village or monastery, sheep are\nbrought and slain in the enclosure of the particular sanctuary, and\nare called \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u032f\u03b1[868], a plural evidently of the Hebrew word\n\u2018corban,\u2019 a thing devoted to the service of God; thus both name and\nceremony proclaim this custom a genuine survival of sacrifice; and it\nis apparently from the shoulder-blades of these victims that omens\nare drawn[869]. A similar case of divination by sacrifice came to my\nknowledge in Boeotia, though whether the shoulder-blade or some other\npart of the victim furnished the predictions, I could not ascertain.\nWhile looking round a small museum at Skimit\u00e1ri I had happened to stop\nbefore a relief representing a man leading some animal to sacrifice,\nand heard the custodian, a peasant of the place, remark to another\npeasant, evidently a stranger to the district, who had followed me in,\n\u2018That is just like what we do\u2019; and he then explained that at a church\nof St George, somewhere in the neighbourhood, there was an annual\nfestival at which a similar scene took place. The villagers of the\ncountry-side congregate early on the morning of St George\u2019s day round\nthe church, each man bringing a kid or a lamb; service in the church\nhaving been duly performed, the priest comes out and blesses each of\nthe animals in turn, after which they are killed and roasted and a\nfeast is held accompanied by some kind of divination from the victims.\nSuch in brief was the custodian\u2019s account; but, when I intervened in\nthe conversation with a question about the method of divining, he\nwould say nothing more. The Boeotians are still boorish. But what I\nhad already overheard exhibits clearly enough the religious character\nof the rite; and I do not doubt that in Aetolia and Acarnania also the\npeasants handle the sheep\u2019s shoulder-blade in an equally religious\nmood. Their very indulgence in meat is due to the religious occasion;\nmuch more therefore the divination which reveals to them the mind of\nthose powers whom they worship.\n\nIn the art of interpreting the particular marks upon the shoulder-blade\nI cannot claim to be an adept. The few facts which I managed to\ndiscover were that in general spots and blurs upon the bone are\nprognostications adverse to the hopes of the enquirer, and that\na clean white surface always gives full security: that different\nportions of the bone are scrutinised for answers to different classes\nof questions; thus the prospects of the lambing season are indicated\non the projecting ridge of the bone, and the weather-forecast on the\nflat surfaces on either side of it, marks on the right side (the bone\nbeing held horizontally with what is naturally its upper end towards\nthe diviner) being favourable signs, and those on the left ill-omened:\nand finally that a pestilence is foreshown by a depression in the\nsurface of the bone. The science, I was told, is extremely complex and\nelaborate; but I never had the fortune to meet any peasant who was\nconsidered an expert in it; the best exponents of it are to be found\namong the mountain shepherds, and since these are constantly shifting\ntheir grazing grounds it is no easy matter to fall in with one both\nable and willing to unfold the full mysteries of the art. How to\ndistinguish in interpretation markings of different sizes, shapes, and\ncolours I never discovered[870].\n\nBut the little which I learnt agrees in the main with the ancient\nmethod as described by Michael Psellus[871]. \u2018Those,\u2019 he says, \u2018who\nwish to avail themselves of this means of divination, pick out a sheep\nor lamb from the flock, and, after settling in their mind or saying\naloud the question which they wish to ask, slay the victim and remove\nthe shoulder-blade from the carcase. This--the organ of divination as\nthey think--they bake thoroughly upon hot embers, and having stripped\nit of the flesh find on it the tokens of that issue about which they\nare enquiring. The answers to different kinds of questions are learnt\nfrom different parts[872]. Questions of life or death are decided by\nthe projection of the ridge[873]; if this is clean and white on both\nsides, a promise of life is thereby given; but if it is blurred, it\nis a token of death. Weather-forecasts again are made from inspection\nof the middle part of the shoulder-blade; if the two membrane-like\nsurfaces which form the middle of the shoulder-blade on either side\nof the ridge[874] are white and clean, they indicate calm weather\nto come; while, if they are thickly spotted, the reverse is to be\nexpected.\u2019 Here, it will have been noticed, no mention is made of\nany discrimination between the markings on the right and on the left\nsides of the bone; but this, I suspect, is an omission on the part of\nPsellus, for so simple a principle of ancient divination is hardly\nlikely to have been excluded from consideration in this case. In other\nrespects the information which I obtained tallies closely with his\naccount; the clean and white appearance of the bone was then, as it\nis now, a reassuring omen; then, as now, the prospects of the weather\nwere to be learnt from the flat surface on either side of the ridge;\nthen, as now, the question of life or death, which from the shepherd\u2019s\npoint of view becomes most acute at each lambing season, was settled\nby reference to the ridge of the bone. To judge then from the few\nprinciples of the art known to me, divination from the shoulder-blade,\nbesides being still recognised as a religious rite, is conducted on\nthe same lines by Aetolian and Acarnanian peasants as it was by those\nancient augurs to whose hand-books probably Psellus was indebted for\nhis knowledge.\n\nAnother animal utilised in the same district for purposes of\ndivination is the pig; but in this case the prophetic organ is not\nthe shoulder-blade but the spleen. This is removed from the fresh\ncarcase before the rest of the flesh is cut up or cooked in any\nway, and omens are taken from the roughness or discoloration of its\nsurface. The questions which may be decided by this means are very\nvarious--the prospects of weather, of crops, and of vineyards, the\nsuccess of journeys and other enterprises, the advisability of a\ncontemplated marriage, and so forth. Of the exact details of the art I\nknow even less than in the last case; the facts which I learned were\nthese, that a smooth surface is a good omen, just as it was in the\ncase of other internal organs in the time of Aeschylus[875], while\ncertain roughnesses portend obstacles and difficulties in a journey\nor enterprise, and further that certain abnormal blotches of colour\ngive warning of blight and mildew on crops and vines. Proficiency in\nthe science, I was told, is commonest among the inhabitants of the\nlow-lying cultivated or wooded districts of Acarnania where large\nherds of half-wild swine are kept; and hence it is natural that the\npredictions sought in this way are chiefly concerned with agricultural\nand social interests, whereas the omens obtained from the sheep\u2019s\nshoulder-blade by shepherds living solitary lives in the mountains\ndeal with few issues other than the prospects of the flock. But this\ndifference between the two methods of divination is circumstantial\nrather than essential; either method can, I believe, in the hands of\nexperts be used for answering almost any questions.\n\nDivination from the pig\u2019s spleen is, I think, undoubtedly ancient. It\nappears to be a solitary survival of the \u03c3\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03c7\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1, or \u2018inspection\nof entrails,\u2019 which in ancient Greece would seem to have been the\ncommonest method of divining from the sacrificial victim. Among the\nanimals embarrassed with prophetic entrails the pig indeed was not\nordinarily reckoned; but Pausanias mentions that the people of Cyprus\ndiscovered its value[876], and it seems actually to have furnished\nresponses to the highly reputable oracle of Paphos[877]. How it has\ncome to pass that modern Acarnania should preserve a custom peculiar\nto ancient Cyprus, is a problem that I cannot solve; but it can hardly\nbe questioned that here again we have an old religious rite still\nmaintained as a proven means of communion with those powers in whose\nknowledge lies the future.\n\nDivination from sacrifice also forms part of the preliminaries of a\nwedding in many districts. On the day before the actual ceremony[878]\nthe first animal for the feast is killed by the bridegroom with his\nown hand. The proper victim is a young ram, though in case of poverty\na more humble substitute is permitted. This, after being in some\ndistricts blessed by the priest who receives in return a portion of the\nvictim, is made to stand facing eastward, and the bridegroom endeavours\nto slaughter it with a single blow of an axe. Omens for the marriage\nare taken from the manner and the direction in which the blood spirts\nout; and a further investigation is sometimes made as to whether the\ntongue is bitten or the mouth foaming, each sign finding its own\ninterpretation in the lore of the village cronies[879]. The substitute\nallowed for the ram is a cock. Where the peasants avail themselves of\nthis economy, the killing is usually deferred until after the wedding\nservice, and is performed on the doorstep of the bridegroom\u2019s house\nbefore the bride is led in. The bird is held down on the threshold by\nthe best man, and the bridegroom, having been provided with a sharp\naxe, tries to sever the cock\u2019s neck at one blow. Here too the man\u2019s\ndexterity counts for something; for the peace or the agony in which the\nvictim is despatched belongs to that class of omens which in antiquity\nalso were drawn from the demeanour of the animal before and during\nthe act of sacrifice, and were taken not indeed to furnish a detailed\nanswer to any question preferred but to indicate the acceptance or the\nrejection of the offering and the accompanying petitions. It is however\nthe effusion of blood and the muscular convulsions of the decapitated\nbird which are most keenly observed; for from these signs, I was\ntold, the old women of the village profess to determine such points of\ninterest as the chastity of the bride, the supremacy of the husband or\nthe wife in the future _m\u00e9nage_, and the number and sex of children\nto be born. All this information can in most places where the rite\nprevails be obtained without any dissection of the victim such as would\nhave been customary in antiquity; but in Aetolia and Acarnania the\npeasants continue faithful to what are probably ancient methods even\nin this detail; there the breast-bone of the fowl is treated both at\nweddings and on other religious occasions as a poor man\u2019s legitimate\nsubstitute for the ovine shoulder-blade, which it sufficiently\nresembles in the possession of a ridge with flat surfaces on either\nside suitable for divine inscriptions.\n\nBut it is not upon coincidences of practical detail, instructive as\nthey are in proving the unity of modern with ancient Greece, that I\nwish most to insist. If it is clear that the victims often blest by the\npriests at weddings and on other religious occasions are really felt by\nthe people to be sacrifices, then the practice of divining from them,\nwhatever the exact method pursued, is once more distinct evidence of\nthe belief that the powers above are able and willing to hold close\ncommunion with men.\n\nAmong the minor methods of divination we may notice first what Suidas\ncalls \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd or \u2018domestic divination\u2019; under this head he\nincludes such incidents as the appearance of a weasel on the roof, or\nof a snake, the spilling of oil, honey, wine, water, or ashes, and the\ncrackling of logs on the fire. The subject was expounded apparently in\na serious treatise by one Xenocrates; but it is difficult to suppose\nthat there was any scientific system governing so heterogeneous a\nconglomeration of incidents; the treatise was probably no more than a\ncompilation of possible occurrences with disconnected regulations for\ninterpreting each of them.\n\nMany events of a like trivial nature are observed at the present day,\nand the interpretations set upon some of them are demonstrably ancient.\nA weasel seen about the house, just as on the road, is significant of\nevil[880], more especially if there is in the household a girl about to\nbe married; for the weasel (\u03bd\u03c5\u03c6\u03af\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1) was once, it is said, a maiden\ndestined to become, as the name implies, a \u2018little bride,\u2019 but in some\nway she was robbed of her happiness and transformed into an animal;\nits appearance therefore augurs ill for an intended wedding. A snake\non the contrary is of good omen when seen in the house; for it is the\nguardian-_genius_ watching over its own. The orientation of a cat\nwhen engaged in washing its face indicates the point of the compass\nfrom which wind may be expected. A mouse nibbling a hole in a bag of\nflour is in Zagorion[881] as distressing a portent as it was to the\nsuperstitious man of Theophrastus[882]. A dog howling at night in or\nnear the house portends a death in the neighbourhood, as it did in\nthe time of Theocritus: \u2018Hark,\u2019 cries Simaetha, \u2018the dogs are barking\nthrough the town. Hecate is at the cross-ways. Haste, clash the brazen\ncymbals[883]\u2019; only instead of the cymbals it is customary to use an\nejaculation addressed to the dog, \u2018may you burst\u2019 (\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c3\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u1fc3\u03c2), or \u2018may\nyou eat your own head\u2019 (\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c6\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5).\n\nAgain, to take another class of the domestic incidents mentioned by\nSuidas, the spilling of oil is universally an evil omen, and the\nspilling of wine a good omen; the former foreshadows poverty, the\nlatter plenty. The upsetting of water is also a presage of good\nsuccess, especially on a journey; but in this connexion, as a later\nchapter will show, it often passes out of the sphere of divination,\nwhich should rest on purely fortuitous occurrences, into that of\nsympathetic magic.\n\nThe crackling of logs on the fire, which Suidas mentions, remains\nto-day also an incident to be duly noted. Generally it appears to mean\nthat good news is coming or that a friend is arriving, but, if sparks\nand ashes are thrown out into the room, troubles and anxieties must be\nexpected. The spluttering of a lamp or candle also usually foretells\nmisfortune[884]. Omens as to marriage also may be obtained on the\ndomestic hearth. Two leaves of basil are put together upon a live coal;\nif they lie as they are placed and burn away quietly, the marriage will\nbe harmonious; if there is a certain amount of crackling, the married\nlife of the two persons represented by the leaves will be disturbed\nby quarrels; if the leaves crackle fiercely and leap apart, there is\nan incompatibility of temper which renders the projected alliance\nundesirable.\n\nThese are but a few instances of domestic divination, and a much\nlonger list might easily be compiled. But while I know that many of\nthe peasants do indeed observe such occurrences seriously enough to\nact upon the supernatural warnings thereby conveyed, yet the religious\ncharacter of these methods of divination is less demonstrable than that\nof divination from birds or from sacrifice; and I may content myself\nwith indicating, by a few illustrations only, the continuity of Greek\nsuperstition in both this and those other minor branches of divination\nto which I now pass.\n\nPalmistry, according to Suidas, was an ancient art, and a hand-book of\nit was composed by one Helenos. The signs of the future were read in\nthe lines of the palm and of the fingers as in modern palmistry. This\nscience is still kept up by some of the old women in Greece, but real\nproficiency therein is as in other countries chiefly attained by the\ngypsies (\u1f00\u03c4\u03c3\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9), who follow a nomadic life in the mountains and\nhave very little intercourse with the native population.\n\nDivination from involuntary movements of various parts of the\nbody--\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, as Suidas calls it, on which one Poseidonios was a\nleading authority--is still very generally practised, and evidently has\ndeviated hardly at all from ancient lines. The twitching of a man\u2019s\neye or eyebrow is a sign that he will soon see some acquaintance--an\nenemy, if it be the left eye that throbs, a friend, if it be the right;\nand this clearly was the principle which the goat-herd of Theocritus\nfollowed when he exclaimed, \u2018My eye throbs, my right eye; oh! shall\nI see Amaryllis herself?\u2019[885] Similarly the buzzing or singing of\na man\u2019s ears is an indication that he is being spoken of by others,\njust as it was in the time of Lucian[886]; and, according to the usual\nprinciple, the right ear is affected in this manner by praise and\nkindly speech, the left by backbiting and slander. Again, if the palm\nof the right hand itch, it shows that a man will receive money; and\nreversely, if the left palm itch, he will have to pay money away[887].\nSo too, if the sole of the right or of the left foot itch, it is a\npremonition of a journey successful or unsuccessful. Omens of this kind\nfall with uncomfortable frequency to the lot of those who have to find\na night\u2019s lodging in Greek inns or cottages.\n\nTo the same category belong hiccoughing and sneezing. The hiccough\n(\u03bb\u03cc\u03be\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2), as also in Macedonia choking over food or drink[888], is\na sign that some backbiter is at work, and the method of curing it is\nto guess his name. Sneezing is a favourable omen, but the particular\ninterpretation of it depends on alternative sets of circumstances. If\nanyone who is speaking is interrupted by a sneeze, whether his own\nor that of another person present, whatever he is saying is held to\nbe proved true by the occurrence. \u2019\u0393\u03b5\u03b9\u03ac \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, cry the listeners, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bb\u03ad\u03c2 (or \u03bb\u03ad\u03b5\u03b9), \u2018Health to you, and you speak (_or_ he speaks)\ntruth.\u2019 If however no one present is in the act of speaking when the\nsneeze is heard, the first phrase only is used, \u2018Health to you,\u2019\nor by way of facetious variant, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c8\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae\u03c3\u1fc3 \u1f21 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018May your\nmother-in-law die like a dog[889].\u2019 In either case the prayer for good\nhealth can benefit only the sneezer; but in the former, that member of\nthe company who is speaking at the time may obtain corroboration of\nthe statement which he is making from the omen produced by another.\nThis part of the belief is very strongly held; and anyone who is in the\nunfortunate position of having his word doubted or of being compelled\nto prevaricate will be better advised to conjure up a sneeze than to\nexpostulate or to swear.\n\nBoth these interpretations of sneezing date from ancient times. The\nold equivalent of \u2018Health to you\u2019 was \u0396\u03b5\u1fe6 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd, \u2018Preserve him, Zeus\u2019;\nbut such expressions are common to many nations and not distinctively\nHellenic. The other interpretation of sneezing, as a confirmation of\nwords which are being uttered, is of more special interest, and has\nbeen handed down from the Homeric age. \u2018Let but Odysseus come,\u2019 says\nPenelope, \u2018and reach his native land, and soon will he and his son\nrequite the violent deeds of these men.\u2019 \u2018Thus she spake,\u2019 continues\nthe passage, \u2018and Telemachos sneezed aloud; and round about the house\nrang fearfully; and Penelope laughed, and quickly then she spake winged\nwords to Eumaeus: \u201cGo now, call the stranger here before me. Dost thou\nnot see how my son did sneeze in sanction of all my words[890]? For\nthis should utter death come upon the suitors one and all, nor should\none of them escape death and destruction[891].\u201d\u2019\n\nAmong other instruments of divination occasionally used are eggs,\nmolten lead, and sieves. Eggs are chiefly used to decide the prospects\nof a marriage. \u2018Speechless water\u2019[892] is fetched by a boy, and the\nold woman who presides over such operations pours into it the white\nof an egg. If this keeps together in a close mass, the marriage will\nturn out well; but if it assumes a broken or confused shape, troubles\nloom ahead. In antiquity the science was probably more extended; for a\nwork on egg-divining (\u1f60\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac) was attributed to Orpheus. A similar\nrite may be performed with molten lead instead of white of egg, and\nit suffices to pour it upon any flat surface[893]. Divination with a\nsieve--the ancient \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1--also continues, I have been told,\nbut I know no details of the practice.\n\nThus then the chief methods of learning the gods\u2019 will as practised\nin antiquity have been reviewed, and are found to be perpetuated in\nsubstantially the same form down to the present day; and not only is\nthe form the same but in many of them the same religious spirit is\nmanifest. The principal difference lies in the paucity of professional\ndiviners now; experts assuredly in some branches there still are, but\naugury alone would now, I think, be a precarious source of livelihood.\nAdvice from the village priest would in so many cases be cheaper and no\nless valued than that of the soothsayer.\n\nAnd as with persons so with places. The pagan temples in which oracles\nwere given have been largely superseded by Christian churches, and\npossibly the peasants are more inclined to pay for masses which will\nsecure the fulfilment of their wishes than for oracular responses which\nmay run counter to them. Still even so oracles have not yet entirely\nceased; and in discussing those which survive we shall find once more\na coincidence both in form and spirit between ancient and modern Greek\nreligion.\n\nAn oracle, it must be remembered, is simply a place set apart for\nthe practice of divination; the method of obtaining responses has\nalways varied in different places, and the mediation of a professional\ndiviner, though usual, cannot be regarded as essential[894]. Those\ncaves therefore where women make offerings of honey-cakes to the\nFates[895] and pray for the fulfilment of their conjugal hopes are\nreally oracles, provided that there is some means of learning there\nwhether the prayer is accepted or rejected. And this is often the\ncase; most commonly the answer is inferred--on what principle of\ninterpretation, I do not know--from the dripping of water or the\ndetachment and fall from the roof of a particle of stone; and in\nAetolia I was told of a cave in the neighbourhood of Agrinion in which\nthe nature of the response is determined by the behaviour of the bats\nwhich frequent it. If they remain hanging quiescent from the roof and\nwalls, the suppliant\u2019s hopes will be realised; but if they be disturbed\nby his or, more often, her intrusion and flutter round confusedly, the\nFates are inexorably adverse.\n\nBut besides these modest and unpretentious oracles there still survives\nin the island of Amorgos an oracle of a higher order ensconced in a\nchurch and served by a priest. The saint under whose patronage this\npagan institution has continued to flourish is St George, here surnamed\nBalsamites[896]. To the right on entering the church is seen a large\nsquared block of marble hollowed out so as to have the form of an urn\ninside, and highly polished. It stands apparently on the natural rock,\nand is roofed over with a dome-shaped lid capable of being locked. At\nthe present day the mouth of the urn is also covered by a marble slab\nwith a hole pierced through it and fitted with a plug; but this was not\nobserved by travellers of the seventeenth century and is probably a\nrecent addition. There is also a discrepancy in the various accounts\nof the working of the oracle, the older authorities stating that the\nanswers were given by the rise and fall of the water in the vessel,\nwhile the modern custom is to interpret the signs given by particles\nof dust, insects, hairs, bits of dry leaf, and suchlike floating in a\ncupful of water drawn from the urn[897].\n\nThe description given by a Jesuit priest of Santorini, Robert Sauger\nby name, of what he himself witnessed in Amorgos towards the end of\nthe seventeenth century may be taken as trustworthy, inasmuch as he\nelsewhere shows himself an accurate observer and certainly was not\ntempted in the present case to exaggerate the wonders of the rival\nChurch.\n\n\u2018The cavity,\u2019 he says, \u2018fills itself with water and empties itself of\nits own accord, and it is impossible to imagine what gives the water\nthis motion and where it has a passage; for, besides being very thick,\nthe marble is so highly polished inside and its continuity of surface\nis so unbroken that it is impossible to detect the tiniest hole or the\nleast unevenness, saving always the opening at the top which is always\nkept locked. Additionally astonishing is the fact that within the space\nof one hour the urn fills and empties itself visibly several times; at\none moment you see it so full that the water overflows, and a moment\nafterwards it becomes so dry that it appears to have had no water in it\nat all.\n\n\u2018Superstition is rife everywhere. Any Greeks who have a voyage to make\ndo not fail to come and consult the Urn. If the water is high in it,\nthey set off gaily, promising themselves a good passage. But if the Urn\nis without water, or the water is low in it, they draw therefrom a bad\nomen for the success of their journey, and do not go, or, if business\nmakes it imperative, go unwillingly.\n\n\u2018This alleged miracle, which is so famed throughout all Greece, is\na source of much gain to the priest who has charge of the Church of\nSt George; for the concourse of Greeks there is incessant; people\ncome thither from great distances, some in all seriousness to advise\nthemselves of the future, others to see the thing with their own eyes,\nand a certain number to amuse themselves and to have a laugh, as I\nhave had several times, at the credulity of these folk[898].\u2019\n\nWhatever may have been the original method of oracular response--and\nI suspect that, while the presence or the absence of water furnished\na plain \u2018yea\u2019 or \u2018nay\u2019 to the enquirer, a more detailed reply always\ndepended upon the observation and interpretation of any foreign\nparticles floating in the urn--the faith of the people in its virtue is\nstill intense. It can indeed no longer claim a reputation throughout\nall Greece; but the inhabitants of Amorgos and the maritime population\nof neighbouring islands still consult it regularly and seriously\nconcerning voyages, business matters, marriage, and other cares and\ninterests; nor are questioners from farther afield altogether unknown.\n\nThis oracular property of water was well known in antiquity. In this\nbranch of divination, says Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, use was made \u2018of springs\nand streams which were felt to be endowed with a kind of supernatural\ndiscernment. Certain waters were accorded the property of confirming\noaths and exposing perjury. The water of the Styx, by which the\nOlympian gods swore, is the prototype of these means of test, among\nwhich may be mentioned the spring of Zeus Orkios, near Tyane, and the\nwater-oracle of the Sicilian Palici[899].\u2019 So too water-deities such as\nNereus and Proteus were believed to exercise special prophetic powers;\nand Ino possessed in the neighbourhood of Epidaurus Limera a pool into\nwhich barley-cakes were thrown by those who would consult her; if these\nofferings sank, she was held to have accepted them and to favour the\nenquirer; if they floated, his hopes would be disappointed[900].\n\nThe present oracle of Amorgos is of a higher order than this; its\nmethod is more complex, and its responses are more detailed. It should\nsurely have ranked high even among the oracles of old, of which, both\nin the reverence which it inspires and in the medium which it employs,\nit is a true descendant.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHaving thus examined the means by which the gods deign to communicate\nwith men, and having seen that both in form and in spirit the ancient\nmeans of communion have been preserved almost unchanged, we have now to\nconsider the means by which men approach the gods and communicate to\nthem their hopes and petitions.\n\nThe first and most obvious method, one common to all religions, is\nof course prayer; but the use of this channel just because it is so\nuniversal cannot be claimed as a proof of religious unity between\nancient and modern Greece. It is rather in what we should deem the\naccompaniments of prayer that evidence of such unity must be sought.\nThe ancient Greeks were not in general content with prayer only. It was\nnot customary to approach the gods empty-handed. The poor man indeed,\naccording to Lucian[901], appeased the god merely by kissing his right\nhand; but the farmer brought an ox from the plough, the shepherd a\nlamb, the goat-herd a goat, and others incense or a cake. \u2018Thus it\nlooks,\u2019 he says, \u2018as if the gods do nothing at all _gratis_, but offer\ntheir commodities for sale to men; one may buy of them health, for\ninstance, at the cost of a calf, wealth for four oxen, a kingdom for\na hecatomb, a safe return passage from Ilium to Pylos for nine bulls,\nand the crossing from Aulis to Ilium for a princess--a high price\ncertainly, but then Hecuba was bidding Athene twelve cows and a dress\nto keep Ilium safe. One must suppose however that they have plenty\nof things to dispose of at the price of a cock, a garland, or even a\nstick of incense[902].\u2019 That this is a fair account of the externals\nof Greek ritual can hardly be questioned; for Plato too, in more\nserious mood, says that \u2018the mutual communion between gods and men\u2019 is\nestablished by \u2018sacrifices of all kinds and the various departments of\ndivination[903].\u2019 The \u2018various departments of divination\u2019 are clearly\nthe means by which the gods communicate with men; and \u2018sacrifices of\nall kinds\u2019 therefore represented to Plato\u2019s mind the means by which\nmen communicate with their gods. Prayer, he seems to have felt, was a\nnecessary incident in sacrifice, rather than sacrifice an unnecessary\nadjunct to prayer.\n\nNow the word \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, which we commonly translate \u2018sacrifice,\u2019 was a term\nof very wide meaning in ancient Greek. In Homer the word \u03b8\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd was\nused of making any offering to the gods, and never denoted, though\nnaturally it sometimes connoted, the slaughtering of animals--an\nact properly expressed by the verb \u03c3\u03c6\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. And in later times the\nsubstantive \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 was still applied to almost any religious festival,\nat which undoubtedly some offerings, but not necessarily animal\nsacrifices, were always made. When therefore Plato speaks of \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018all sacrifices,\u2019 he is clearly expressing his recognition\nof the fact that sacrifices (\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03b9) are manifold in kind--and if\nin kind, therefore also in intention; for different rituals are the\nexpressions of different religious motives. Communion with the gods was\nin general terms the object of all offerings made to them by men; but\nthe particular aspect of such communion varied.\n\nOfferings, we may suppose, were rarely if ever made purely for the\nbenefit of the gods without any self-seeking on the part of the\nworshipper. Even when a sacrifice to some god was merely a pretext for\nsocial entertainments--and how frequently this was the case is shown\nby the fact that \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03b8\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u2018fond of sacrificing,\u2019 came to mean simply\n\u2018hospitable\u2019--it is reasonable to suppose that the presentation to the\ngod of the less edible portions of the victim was accompanied at least\nby an \u1f35\u03bb\u03b1\u03b8\u03b9, \u2018be propitious,\u2019 by way of grace before the meal; and\nat more strictly religious functions, at which the guests, if there\nwere any, were secondary to the god, the dedication of the offering\nundoubtedly included a declaration of the offerer\u2019s motive.\n\nAs regards the character of that motive in most cases, Lucian is right;\nit was frankly and baldly commercial. Homer does not blink the fact;\nfor Phoenix even commends to the notice of Achilles the open mind\ndisplayed by the gods towards an open-handed suppliant. \u2018Verily even\nthe gods may be turned, they whose excellence and honour and strength\nare greater than thine; yet even them do men, when they pray, turn from\ntheir purpose with offerings of incense and pleasant vows, with fat\nand the savour of sacrifice, whensoever a man hath transgressed and\ndone amiss[904].\u2019 And so Greek feeling has ever remained. Offerings\nare the ordinary means of gaining access to the gods, of buying their\ngoodwill and buying off their anger. The ordinary medium of exchange\nin such commerce was, when Greece was avowedly pagan, food, and is,\nnow that Greece is nominally Christian, candles: for religion, ever\nconservative, keeps up the otherwise obsolete system of barter between\nmen and gods, even though the priests of those gods are enlightened\nenough to accept of a secular modern currency. But the particular\ncommodities in which the barter is made are of little consequence as\ncompared with the spirit which has always animated such dealings. The\nsubstitution of candles for meat is practically the only modification\nwhich Christianity has effected in this department of religion.\n\nEven this change in detail does not affect the whole range of such\noperations; candles are not by any means the only offerings of\nwhich the Church takes cognisance. In dealing with the question of\ndivination, we have seen cases in which on some religious occasion,\nsaint\u2019s-day or wedding, the priest blesses a genuinely sacrificial\nvictim[905]. We have seen too that at the laying of foundation stones,\na religious ceremony conducted by a priest of the Church, some animal\nis immolated to appease the _genius_ of the site[906]. We have seen\nagain how the Church permits or encourages the dedication of those\nsilver-foil models of various objects--ships and houses, corn-fields\nand vineyards, eyes and limbs--which serve at once to propitiate the\nsaint to whom they are offered and, on the principle of sympathetic\nmagic, to place the object, thus represented as it were by proxy,\nunder the saint\u2019s special care; and how also the same kind of models\nare frequently dedicated as thank-offerings[907]; so that indeed,\nin default of an inscription announcing the motive of the offerer,\nno one can decide how any given offerings of this kind should be\nclassified[908].\n\nThen too in those religious rites which have survived without\necclesiastical sanction the use and the purpose of food-offerings\nremain unchanged. The favour of the Fates is bought by offerings of\ncakes in order that they may bestow upon the women who thus propitiate\nthem the blessing of children[909]. Nereids who have \u2018seized\u2019 children\nare known to withdraw their oft-times baneful influence when the mother\ntakes a present of food to the scene of the calamity and cries to them\nwith an Homeric simplicity, \u2018Eat ye the little cakes, good queens, and\nheal my child[910].\u2019 Even the malice of Callicantzari may sometimes be\naverted by a present of pork[911].\n\nThus with or without the ratification of the Church the old offerings\nstill continue to be made in the self-same form; and even where other\nsubstitutes have been devised, the spirit which animates the dedication\nof them is unchanged--a spirit essentially commercial; it matters\nlittle whether the suppliant is trying to buy blessings or to get the\npunishment which he has deserved commuted for a fine, or again whether\nhe is speculating in future favours or settling in accordance with a\nvow for favours received; in each case there is the _quid pro quo_, the\nbargaining that the Greek has never been able to forego, not even in\nhis religion.\n\nBut while the spirit thus manifested is not wholly admirable and\nperhaps deserved the ridicule of Lucian, it is highly instructive. The\nsacrifices or offerings are the means by which the worshipper gets into\ntouch with the worshipped, the vehicle for his thanks or petitions; the\npossibility of bargaining implies intercourse; commerce is a form, even\nthough it be the lowest form, of communion.\n\nBut that there were other kinds of sacrifice which represented higher\naspects of the communion between men and gods in ancient Greece is\ncertain. The commonly accepted classification of ancient sacrifices\nrecognises three main groups--the sacramental, the honorific, and\nthe piacular. Of the sacramental class, in which--by a development,\nit appears, of totemism--some sacred animal, representing the\nanthropomorphic god who has superseded it in men\u2019s worship, is consumed\nby the worshippers in order that by eating the flesh and drinking the\nblood they may partake of the god\u2019s own life and self, no trace, so\nfar as I know, can now be found in the popular religion. The honorific\nclass comprises the majority of those offerings which might with less\neuphemism be called commercial; those however which are prompted by the\ndesire to expiate sin, or rather to buy off the punishment which sin\nhas merited, would, I suppose, fall under the head of piacular. But the\nline drawn between the honorific and the piacular seems to me far from\nclear, for reasons which will be discussed in the remainder of this\nchapter.\n\nThe view of sacrifice which I am about to propound, and which would\nmodify chiefly our conception of so-called piacular sacrifice in\nantiquity, was suggested to me by a story which I had from the lips of\nan aged peasant of the village of Goni\u00e1 (the \u2018Corner\u2019) in the island of\nSantorini[912]. In talking to me of the wonders of his native island\nhe mentioned among other things a large hall with columns round it\nwhich had long since been buried--presumably by volcanic eruption.\nThis hall was of magnificent proportions, \u2018as fine,\u2019 to use the old\nman\u2019s own description, \u2018as the _piazza_ of Syra or even of Athens.\u2019 It\nwas situated between Kam\u00e1ri, an old rock-cut shelter in the shape of\nan _exedra_ at the foot of the northern descent from the one mountain\nof the island (\u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u03bf \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03af), and a chapel of St George in the strip\nof plain that forms the island\u2019s east coast. So far my informant\u2019s\nveracity is beyond dispute; for in an account of the island written\nby a resident Jesuit in the middle of the seventeenth century I\nafterwards discovered the following corroboration[913]. \u2018At the foot\nof this mountain[914] are seen the ruins of a fine ancient town; the\nhuge massive stones of which the walls were built are a marvel to\nbehold; it must have taken some stout arms and portentous hands to\nhandle them.... Among these ruins have been found some fine marble\ncolumns perfectly complete, and some rich tombs; and among others\nthere are four which would bear comparison in point of beauty with\nthose of our kings, if they were not damaged; several marble statues\nin Roman style lie overturned upon the ground. On the pedestal of the\nstatue of Trajan there is still to be read at the present day a very\nfine Greek panegyric of that powerful Emperor, as also on that of the\nstatue of Marcus Antoninus.\u2019 Thus much as guarantee of the old man\u2019s\n_bona fides_, which even excavation on the spot, however desirable\nfrom an archaeological standpoint, could not more clearly establish\nthan the French writer\u2019s corroborative testimony; now for the story\nassociated by the aged narrator with this wonderful buried hall.\nAt the time of the revolution, he said, a number of the Greek ships\nassembled off Kam\u00e1ri (where a fair anchorage exists), and he with\nsome fellow-islanders all since dead was going to fight in the cause\nof Greek freedom. Naturally enough there was great excitement and\ntrepidation in this remote and quiet island at the thought of adventure\nand war. \u2018So we thought things over,\u2019 he continued, \u2018and decided to\nsend a man to St Nicolas to ask him that our ships might prosper in the\nwar[915].\u2019 They accordingly seized a man and took him to this large\nhall. There they cut off his head and his hands, and carried him down\nthe steps into the hall, whereupon God appeared with a bright torch in\nhis hand, and the bearers of the body dropped it, and all present fled\nin terror.\n\nThere are few grounds on which to argue for or against the credibility\nof this story. Historically Thera along with some other islands is\nrecorded to have maintained the position of a neutral by paying\ncontributions to both sides; but that does not in any way militate\nagainst the supposition that a few young men from the island were\npatriotic enough to volunteer for service in some of the Greek ships\nwhich may have touched--perhaps to secure that contribution--at\nSantorini. The story itself was narrated to me, I am persuaded, in all\ngood faith, and the old man really believed himself to have taken part\nin the events described. His age would certainly have permitted him to\nfight as a young man in the revolution; he himself estimated (in the\nyear 1899) that he had lived more than a century, and other old men of\nthe village who were well past their threescore years and ten reckoned\nhim senior to themselves by a full generation; moreover his own\nreminiscences of the war argued a personal share in the fighting. But\nwhether the savage episode which he described was really a prelude to\nthat most savage war, or some traditional event of the island\u2019s history\npost-dated and inserted in the most glorious epoch of modern Greek\nhistory, is a question which cannot be finally determined. Chronology\nto a peasant who does not know the year of his own birth is naturally\na matter of some indifference, and excitability of imagination\ncoupled with the habit, or rather the instinct, of self-glorification\nin the Greek character, would account for an unconscious and not\nintentionally dishonest transference of the stirring events of\nearlier days to a date at which their narrator could have personally\nparticipated in them; there is no one so easily deceived by a Greek as\nhimself, and no one half so honestly. Yet on the whole I incline to\nbelieve the story.\n\nFortunately the chronological exactitude and detailed precision of the\nstory do not much matter. Accurate or inaccurate in itself it contains\na clear expression of the view held by the old peasant of the purpose\nof human sacrifice. \u2018We thought things over and decided to send a man\nto St Nicolas to ask him that our ships might prosper in the war.\u2019\nThis is our text, and its very terseness and directness of expression\nprove how familiar and native to the speaker\u2019s mind was this aspect\nof sacrifice. The human victim was simply and solely a messenger. St\nNicolas, to whom he was sent, has supplanted Poseidon, as has been\nremarked above[916], in the government of the sea and the patronage\nof sailors; but how he came to be associated with the hall which was\ndeemed a right place for the sacrifice, unless perhaps he had succeeded\nto the possession of the site of some temple of Poseidon, I cannot say.\nIt is of little avail to press for further elucidation of a peasant\u2019s\nstory. I would gladly have learnt more about the hall now wholly buried\nbut then partially at least visible above ground, into which none\nthe less a descent by steps is mentioned; I would gladly have learnt\nmore about the appearance of God with a bright torch in his hand, and\nwhat was the significance to the peasant\u2019s mind of the appearance of\nGod himself[917] (\u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2) instead of St Nicolas to whom the messenger\nwas sent. These uncertainties and obscurities must remain. The only\nadditional fact which I elicited was that the man taken and sent to St\nNicolas was in Greek parlance a \u2018Christian,\u2019 that is to say neither a\nTurk nor a member of the Roman Church which has long held a footing\nin the island. There was therefore no admixture of either racial or\nreligious hatred in the feelings which prompted, as it is alleged, this\nhuman sacrifice.\n\nIf then the story be accepted, the motive assigned must be accepted\nwith it; but if the story be discredited, the motive assigned has\nstill a value. For even if the old man had deliberately invented the\ntale and claimed complicity in so ghastly a deed, whence could he have\nobtained that conception of human sacrifice which furnished the motive\nof the action? It is inconceivable that he should have evolved the idea\nfrom personal meditations on the subject of sacrifice. It is equally\ninconceivable that he could have obtained it from any literary source;\nfor he could not read, and the only book of which he could have had any\nknowledge would have been the Bible, to which this view of sacrifice is\nunknown. The only source from which he could have received the idea is\nnative and oral tradition.\n\nSo distinct an expression of the idea is naturally rare, because human\nsacrifice is not an every-day topic of conversation among peasantry;\nbut such a theory of sacrifice is perfectly harmonious with that chord\nof Greek religion of which several notes have already been struck. To\nobey dreams, to enquire of oracles, to observe birds, to hear omens\nin chance words, to read divine messages in the flesh of sacrificial\nvictims, to make presents to the powers above for the purpose of\nsecuring blessings or averting wrath--these are the ways of a people\nfrom whose mind the primitive belief in close contact and converse\nwith their gods has not been expelled by the invasion of education;\nwhose religion has not paid the price of ennobling its conceptions\nand elevating its ideals by making the worshipper feel too acutely\nhis debasement and his distance from the godhead; whose instinctive\njudgement divides the domain of faith from the domain of reason, and\naccepts poetical beauty rather than logical probability as the evidence\nof things unseen. True indeed it is that of all the practices by which\nthis people\u2019s belief in intercourse with their gods is attested none is\nso remarkable as acquiescence or complicity in murder prompted solely\nby the belief that the victim by passing the gates of death can carry\na message in person to one in whose power the future lies. But all\nthat is painful and gruesome in such a deed only accentuates the more\nthe unflinching faith of a people who, not in blind devotion to custom\nnor in fear of a prophet\u2019s command, but intelligently and of piety\nprepense, could sacrifice a compatriot and co-religionist to ensure the\nsafe carriage of their most urgent prayers.\n\nIf tragedy consists in the conflict of deep emotions, and religion in\nobeying the divine rather than the human, few deeds have been more\ntragic, none more religious than this. In that scene at Aulis when the\nwarrior-king gave up his child at the prophet\u2019s bidding to stay the\nwrath of Artemis against his host, the tragedy was indeed intensified\nby the strength of the human tie between the sacrificer and the\nvictim; but blind and awe-struck submission to a prophet\u2019s decree is\nless grandly religious than clear-sighted recognition and courageous\napplication of the belief that the dead pass immediately into the\nvery presence of the gods. Here are the two given conditions: first,\nthe urgency of the present or the peril of the future requires that a\nrequest for help be safely conveyed at all costs to that god or saint\nin whose province the control of the danger lies; secondly, the safest\nway of sending a message to that god or saint is by the mouth of a\nhuman messenger whose road is over the pass of death. There is only\none solution of that problem. And if it is true that only some eighty\nyears ago the problem was solved at so cruel a cost, then the faith of\nthis people in their communion with those on whose knees the future\nlies is more intense, more vital, more courageous than that of more\nWestern nations whose religion has long been subordinated or at least\nallied to morality, and whose acts of worship are all well-regulated\nand eminently decorous.\n\nHuman sacrifice is known to have been practised in ancient Greece and\nthe custom probably continued well into the Christian era. What was\nthe motive which prompted the continuance of so cruel a rite? Was it\nthe same as that which the old peasant of Santorini assigned for the\nperformance of a like act in his own experience--that conception of\nthe victim as a messenger with which he can have been familiar only\nfrom native and oral tradition? Assuredly some strong religious motive\nmust have compelled the ancients to a rite which in the absence of such\nmotive would have been an indelible stigma upon their civilisation,\nrefuting all their claims to emancipation of thought and freedom\nof intellect, and branding them the very bond-slaves of grossest\nsuperstition. Even though they lived on the marches of the East where\nhuman life is of small account, the horror of the rite is in too vivid\na contrast with Hellenic enlightenment for us to see in it a mere\ncallous retention of an unmeaning and savage custom; but that horror\nis at least mitigated if underlying the practice there was some deep\nreligious motive, if a genuine faith in the possibility of direct\nintercourse with heaven exalted above the sacredness of human life the\nsacred privilege of sending a messenger to present the whole people\u2019s\npetition before their god.\n\nBut while it is easy to perceive that such a motive is in harmony\nwith that belief in the possibility of the communion of man with\nGod which is so pronounced a feature in the religion of the ancient\nGreeks no less than in that of their descendants, it is a far harder\ntask actually, to prove that this motive was the one acknowledged\njustification for human sacrifice. Ancient literature is extremely\nreticent on the whole subject; the very fact of the existence of the\nrite is known chiefly from late writers, Plutarch[918], Porphyry[919],\nand Tzetzes[920]; and anything like a discussion of the motives\nwhich underlay it is nowhere to be found. This reticence however was\nprompted, we may suppose, simply and solely by the patent barbarity\nof the act; it in no way impugns the latent beauty of the motive.\nRather the persistence in a rite which did violence to men\u2019s humaner\nfeelings and moral sense proves the strength of the appeal which the\nmotive for it must have addressed to their religious convictions. There\nwas no place for shame in the belief that death was the road by which\nalone a human messenger could gain immediate access to the gods; but\nif a messenger were required to go at regular intervals, the regular\noccurrence of deaths required murder. This, I think, was the cause of\nshame and reticence.\n\nNow if this very simple analysis of the feelings which almost barred\nthe discussion or even mention of human sacrifice by ancient authors is\ncorrect, we should expect to find that, where death occurred naturally\nand not by human intervention, the conception of the dying or the dead\nas messengers to the unseen world would find ready and unembarrassed\nexpression. And especially is this to be expected among the Greeks with\nwhom grief has never imposed a check upon garrulity, but rather the\nloudness of the lamentation has always been the test of the poignancy\nof the sorrow. It is therefore in funeral-dirges and such-like that we\nmust look for the expression of this idea.\n\nAn organised ceremony of lamentation is at the present day an\nessential part of every Greek funeral, and many dirges sung on such\noccasions have been collected and published. In these the conception\nof the departed as a messenger, or even as a carrier of goods,\nabounds[921]. A Laconian dirge runs thus: \u2018A prudent lady, a virtuous\nwife, willed and resolved to go down to Hades. \u201cWhoso has words\u201d (she\ncried) \u201clet him say them, and messages, let him send them; whoso has\na son there unarmed, let him send his arms; whoso has son there a\nscribe, let him send his papers; whoso has daughter undowered, let him\nsend her dowry; whoso has a little child, let him send his swaddling\nclothes.\u201d\u2019[922]\n\nThe same thought inspires a dirge in Passow\u2019s collection[923], in which\nthe thoughts of a dead man, round whose body the women are sitting\nand weeping, are thus expressed: \u2018Why stand ye round about me, all ye\nsorrowing women? Have I come forth from Hades, forth from the world\nbelow? Nay, now am I making ready, now am I at the point to go. Whoso\nhath word, let him speak it, and message, let him tell it; whoso hath\nlong complaint, let him write and send it.\u2019 And again in another\nfuneral-song a dead man is described as a \u2018trusty courier bound for the\nworld below[924].\u2019\n\nThis sentiment, so frequently and so clearly expressed in the modern\ndirges, is of ancient descent. Polyxena, about to be sacrificed\nat Achilles\u2019 tomb, is made by Euripides to address to her mother\nthe question, \u2018What am I to say from thee to Hector or to thy aged\nhusband?\u2019, and Hecuba answers, \u2018My message is that I am of all women\nmost miserable[925].\u2019 And it is the same genuinely Hellenic thought\nwhich Vergil attributes to Neoptolemus when he answers Priam\u2019s taunts\nof degeneracy with the words, \u2018These tidings then thou shalt carry,\nand shalt go as messenger to my sire, the son of Peleus; forget not to\ntell him of my sorry deeds and that Neoptolemus is no true son. Now\ndie[926].\u2019\n\nAnd it is not only in the poetry of ancient and modern Greece but\nalso in the actual customs of the people that this idea has found\nexpression. At the present day funerals are constantly treated by the\npeasants as real opportunities of communicating with their dead friends\nand relatives. Whether the custom is ever carried out exactly as it\nonce was by the Galatae, who used to write letters to the departed and\nto lay them on the pyre of each new courier to the lower world[927],\nI cannot definitely say; but a proverbial expression used of a person\ndangerously ill, \u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u2018he is\ncollecting letters for the dead,\u2019 lends colour to the supposition that\neither now or in earlier days this form of the custom is or has been\nin vogue. But in general now certainly the messages are not written\nbut verbal. It is a common custom, noticed by many writers on Greek\nfolklore[928], for the women who assist in the ceremonial lamentation\nwhich precedes the interment to insert in the dirges, which they each\nin turn contribute, messages which they require the newly-dead to\ndeliver to some departed person whom they name, or, according to a\nslightly different usage, to whisper such messages secretly in the\near of the dead either immediately before the body is borne away to\nthe church[929], or, where women are allowed to attend the actual\ninterment, at the moment of \u2018the last kiss\u2019 (\u1f41 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c3\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2),\nwhich forms an essential and very painful part of the Eastern rite.\n\nThe antiquity of this custom appears to me to be as certain as\nanything which is not explicitly stated in ancient literature can be.\nFor in every detail of ancient funeral usage known to us there is\nso complete a coincidence with modern usage that it would be absurd\nnot to supplement records of the past by observation of the present.\nActually to establish that identity in every particular is beyond the\nscope of the present chapter and must be reserved until later; but\nmy assertion may be justified here by reference to three points in\nSolon\u2019s legislation on the subject of funerals. That legislation was\ndirected against three practices to which mourners were addicted in\nthis ceremonial lamentation of which I have been speaking--laceration\nof the cheeks and breast, the use of set and premeditated dirges,\nand lamentation for any other than him whose funeral was in\nprogress[930]--customs which all still flourish.\n\nThe laceration is quite a common feature of such occasions. Indeed in\nsome districts the women nearest of kin to the deceased are almost\nthought to fail in their duty to him if they do not work themselves\nup into an hysterical mood and testify to the wildness of their grief\nby tearing out their hair and scratching their cheeks till the blood\nflows. Such a display of agony, it must be remembered, comes easy to\nthe Greeks: for their temperament is such that, even when the fact\nof the bereavement has moved them little, the _r\u00f4le_ of the bereaved\nexcites them to the most dramatic excesses. Men rarely if ever now take\npart in this scene, and are certainly not guilty of such transports;\nfor their usual method of mourning is to let their hair grow instead of\ntearing it out, and to avoid laceration by forswearing the razor.\n\nAgain, the use of set dirges, composed or adapted beforehand to suit\nthe estate and circumstances of the deceased, is almost universal; and\nso essential to the funeral-rite is the formal lamentation that there\nare actually women whose profession it is to intone dirges and who are\nhired for the occasion. These professional mourners (\u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\nor \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2) take their seats round the corpse in order of\nseniority and assist the wife, mother, sisters, cousins, and aunts, who\nalso take their seats according to degree of kinship (the head of the\nbier being of course the place of honour), to keep up an incessant flow\nof lamentation. The scene differs in no detail, save that the hired\nmourners now are always women, from that which was enacted round the\nbody of Hector. There too \u2018they set singers to lead the lamentation,\u2019\nand of the women present it was Andromache, the wife, who began the\nwailing, Hecuba, the mother, who followed next, and Helen whose voice\nwas heard third and last[931]. The singers who led the lamentation\nwere probably then as now hired, for Plato speaks of paid minstrels\nat funerals using a particular style of music known as Carian[932]--a\ncustom suggestive of antiquity; and in all probability the singing of\nset dirges, which Solon tried to suppress, was the recognised business\nof professional and paid mourners; for dirges premeditated by the\nrelatives would have been less objectionable, one may suppose, than\ntheir hysterical improvisations. What success his legislation obtained\nin Athens cannot now be ascertained; but the custom was undoubtedly\nuniversal in Greece, and with the exception of the Ionian islands,\nwhere the Venetians imitated Solon in sternly repressing what they\nregarded as a scandal and a grave offence against public decency[933],\nall parts of Greece still to some extent retain it; and it is likely\nlong to survive for the simple reason that lamentation has always\nbeen held by the Greeks to be as essential to the repose of the dead\nas burial. There is more than hazard in the repeated collocation of\n\u1f04\u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f04\u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018unwept, unburied,\u2019 in the tragedians[934]; there is\nthe religious idea that the dead need a twofold rite, both mourning and\ninterment.\n\nThe third point in the funeral customs to which Solon demurred was that\nmourners attending the ceremony of lamentation misused the occasion by\nwailing again for their own dead and neglecting him whose death had\nbrought them together. This practice was known to the Homeric age; for\nwhile Brise\u00efs \u2018tore with her hands her breast and smooth neck and fair\nface\u2019 and with shrill wailing and tears made lament over Patroclus,\n\u2018the women joined their groans to hers, for Patroclus in form, but each\nreally for their own losses[935].\u2019 There is no intention of satire\nhere; it is simply a na\u00efve touch in the picture of a familiar and\npathetic scene. Patroclus\u2019 death furnished the excuse and the occasion\nfor tears, but most of those tears--pent up till they might flow freely\nand without shame--were shed for nearer sorrows, dearer losses. To-day\nthe manner is the same. In some districts, as in Chios[936], a woman\u2019s\ndesire to lament again over her own dead is recognised as so legitimate\nthat etiquette merely prescribes that she first must make mention of\nthe present dead and afterwards she is free to mourn for whom she will;\nand indeed throughout Greece the opportunity for rehearsing former\nsorrows is rarely neglected.\n\nNow when in these details that have been enumerated (as well as in\nmany others such as the washing, arraying, and crowning of the dead\nbody, the antiquity of which will be treated in another chapter[937])\nthat portion of ancient usage which is known from literary sources is\nfound surviving, point for point identical, as a portion of modern\nusage, then the defect of ancient literary sources is best and most\nreasonably supplemented from present observations. Thus we know from\nthe _Iliad_ that the women of the Homeric age used Patroclus\u2019 funeral\nas an occasion for renewing their wailing over their own losses; we\nknow too from Plutarch that in Solon\u2019s age the same practice had\nattained such excessive proportions that legislation intervened to\ncheck it; the only detail which we are not told is whether the mourners\nin commemorating thus their own dead friends were wont to entrust\nmessages for them to him about whose bier they were assembled. But\nwhen the ancient picture of funeral-usage corresponds thus in every\ndistinguishable trait with the living scenes of to-day, clearly the\nright way of restoring that which is obscured or obliterated in the\npicture is to go and to see still enacted in all its traditional\nfulness that very scene which the remnants of ancient literature\nimperfectly pourtray. And by going and seeing we learn this--that one\nstrongly marked characteristic of funeral-rites is the belief, both\nexpressed in words and evidenced in acts, that he whose death has\nbrought the mourners together is a messenger who can and will carry\ntidings to those who have preceded him to the world below. Then on\nlooking back we may feel confident that that aspect of death, which\nprompted Polyxena to ask what message she should bear from Hecuba to\nHector and to Priam, was no mere poetic conceit imagined by Euripides,\nbut a common feature of the popular religion. The belief that the\npassing spirit is a sure and unerring messenger to another world has\never been the property of the Hellenic people.\n\nSince then this belief existed in ancient times and the practice of\nhuman sacrifice also existed, it remains to enquire whether the two\nwere correlated as cause and effect, as in my story from Santorini.\nIn this enquiry the reticence of ancient literature on the subject\nprecludes, as I have pointed out, actual certainty; but a passage from\nHerodotus offers a clue which is worth following up.\nIn speaking of the Getae, a Thracian people, he remarks that they\nbelieve in their own immortality. \u2018They hold that they themselves do\nnot die, but the departed go to dwell with a god named Zalmoxis....\nAnd every four years they choose one of their own number by lot and\ndespatch him as messenger to Zalmoxis, enjoining upon him the delivery\nof their various requests. The manner of sending him is this. Some of\nthem are set to hold up three spears, while others take their emissary\nby his arms and by his legs and swinging him up into the air let him\nfall upon the spear-points. If he be pierced by them mortally, they\nconsider that their god is favourable to them; but if death do not\nresult, they lay the blame on the messenger himself and give him a bad\nname; but having censured him they despatch another man instead. Their\ninjunctions are given to the messenger before he is killed[938].\u2019\n\nNow no one can fail to notice that Herodotus\u2019 own interest in this\ncustom centres not in the idea which prompted it but in the manner\nof carrying it out. His account of it reads as if he knew his Greek\nreaders to be familiar enough with the conception of human sacrifice\nas a means of sending a messenger to some god; but he seems to be\ncontrasting the method adopted with some rite of which they were\ncognisant. Tacit comparisons of foreign customs with those of Greece\noccur all through Herodotus\u2019 work. The points which he here seems\nto emphasize are, first, that the messenger of the Getae was one\nof themselves, not a prisoner of war or a slave; secondly, that\nimpaling was the ritual mode of death--a mode which the Greeks held\nin abhorrence and would never have employed; and, thirdly, that the\nmessages were committed to the victim\u2019s charge before and not after\ndeath. The inference therefore is that Herodotus and the Greeks for\nwhom he was writing were accustomed to some rite which was inspired by\nthe same motive but was differently executed, the messenger being other\nthan a citizen, the method of sacrifice less barbarous to their minds\nthan impaling, and the messages being whispered, as at funerals, in the\ndead victim\u2019s ear; for of course, if the newly-dead could carry tidings\nto men in the other world, they could equally well carry petitions to\ngods.\nMoreover my contention that Herodotus had in mind some Greek rite,\nwith which he was contrasting that of the Getae, is borne out by the\npassage immediately following, in which the idea of comparison comes to\nthe surface. This Zalmoxis, he continues, according to the Greeks of\nthe Hellespont and the Euxine, was in origin not a god but a man. He\nserved for a time as a slave to Pythagoras in Samos, but having gained\nhis liberty and considerable wealth returned to Thrace and tried to\nreclaim his countrymen from savagery and ignorance. The ways of life\nand the doctrines which he inculcated were such as he had derived from\nintercourse with Greeks and above all with Pythagoras, whose teachings\nconcerning immortality and a future life in a happier land he both\npreached and (by the trick of hiding himself for three years in a\nsubterranean chamber and then re-appearing to those who had believed\nhim dead) illustrated in his own person. This story is neither accepted\nnor rejected by Herodotus, but, estimating Zalmoxis to have been of\nmuch earlier date than Pythagoras, he inclines slightly to the view\nthat Zalmoxis was really a native god of the Getae.\n\nIf we may assume this view to be correct, what significance is to be\nattached to the story of Zalmoxis\u2019 relations with Pythagoras? Evidently\nit is one of those fictions by which the ancient Greeks loved to bring\nthe great figures of history into contact and personal acquaintance.\nPythagoras and Zalmoxis were two names with which was associated the\ndoctrine of immortality; some story therefore of their meeting was\ndesirable. And since Pythagoras was Greek, Zalmoxis barbarian, the\nlegend that the slave Zalmoxis was instructed by his master Pythagoras\nwas more flattering to Hellenic pride than the idea that Pythagoras in\nhis travels should have borrowed so important a doctrine from a foreign\nreligion; and if chronology did not concur--well, imagination always\nhad precedence of accuracy. To the Greeks who invented the tale fitness\nwas of more account than fact; and for us who dismiss the actual story\nas mere fiction their sense of its fitness remains instructive. It\nshows that the Greeks recognised the existence of specially close\nrelations between the religion of the Getae and their own--relations\nattested probably not only by their common acceptance of the doctrine\nof immortality, for that was the property of other peoples too, but\nalso by some resemblance between the rites of the Getae which were\nbased upon that doctrine and similar rites practised, as Herodotus\nhints, by themselves.\n\nThen again if the motive which we have found operating in Herodotus\u2019\ntime among the Getae and operating also less than a century ago among\nthe peasants of Santorini was not the motive which prompted the\nancient Greeks to human sacrifice, how can we account for the long\nperpetuation of the practice? It is practically certain that it was\ntolerated in Athens during the period of her ascendency and highest\nenlightenment[939]; but the repugnance which it inspired is proved\nby the reticence which almost concealed the fact from posterity. It\nwas practised apparently in honour of Lycaean Zeus in the time of\nPausanias[940]; but the horror of it closed his lips concerning this\n\u2018secret sacrifice.\u2019 Suppose then that the motive for this sacrifice\nhad been the sating of a wolf-like god--for so Pausanias seems to have\nunderstood the epithet \u039b\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2[941]--with human flesh; could such\na rite have continued in any part of Greece for some six centuries\nafter it had become repugnant at least in Athens? Was the supposed\nmotive so sublime that it was held to hallow or even to mitigate the\nbarbarity of the act? Or did the custom live on without motive when an\nanthropomorphic Zeus had superseded the old wolf-like deity? Custom,\nit is true, often outlives its parent belief; but custom itself is\nnot invulnerable nor deathless if it has to battle against sentiments\nirreconcilably opposed to that original belief. If the purpose of\npropitiating a wolf-god with human flesh was rendered null and void by\nthe modifications which the conception of Lycaean Zeus had undergone,\nhow could the crude and savage rite have still flourished in the\nuncongenial soil of an humaner civilisation--unless of course some\nnew stream of religious thought, instead of the original motive, had\nwatered and revived it? The very fact that so hideous a custom was so\nlong maintained in civilised Greece argues that, whatever the original\nmotive of it may have been, only some strong religious belief in the\nnecessity of it could have saved it from extinction in the historical\nage. Surely it was some convincing plea of justification, and not mere\nacquiescence in the inveteracy of custom, which caused Pausanias,\nthough he could not bring himself to describe or to discuss the horrid\nsacrifice, yet to conclude his brief allusion to it with the words, \u2018as\nit was in the beginning and is now, so let it be[942].\u2019\n\nMy reasons then for suggesting that one motive which led to human\nsacrifice in ancient Greece was the belief that the victim could carry\na petition in person to the gods are threefold. First, that motive\nwas recognised as sufficient by a peasant of Santorini, who can only\nhave inherited the idea, just as all the ideas of divination have\nbeen inherited, from the ancient world. Secondly, Herodotus appears\nto contrast the method of such sacrifice among the Getae with the\nmethod of some similar rite familiar to his audience and to imply that\nthe motive in each case was the same. Thirdly, without an adequate\nmotive--and it is hard to see what other motive could have been\nadequate in the case which I have taken--it is almost inconceivable\nthat human sacrifice should have continued, in spite of the repugnance\nwhich it certainly excited, for so long a time. For these reasons I\nsubmit that the known belief of the ancients that the dead could serve\nas messengers to the other world and their known custom of making human\nsacrifice were correlated in the minds of thinking men in the more\ncivilised ages as cause and effect.\n\nThe reservation, \u2018in the minds of thinking men in the more civilised\nages,\u2019 is necessary; for I am at a loss how to determine whether\nthe belief in question was the original motive of the custom or a\nlater justification of the custom when its original motive had been\nforgotten. Either the belief was coeval with the custom, and both were\ninherited together from ancestors belonging to that \u2018lower barbaric\nstage\u2019 of culture in which \u2018men do not stop short at the persuasion\nthat death releases the soul to a free and active existence, but they\nquite logically proceed to assist nature by slaying men in order\nto liberate their souls for ghostly uses[943]\u2019; or on the other\nhand the custom of human sacrifice originated in some other motive\n(such as satisfying the appetite of a beast-like god) and remaining\nitself unchanged, while the conception of the god was gradually\nhumanised until his beast-form and therewith the original purpose of\nthe sacrifice were lost to memory, embarrassed a more enlightened\nand humaner age until a new justification for it was found in the\nmessenger-functions of the dead.\n\nIn support of the former supposition it may be mentioned that tribes\nfar more barbarous than the Getae (who may have benefited from Greek\ncivilisation) have evolved the particular ghostly use of dead men\u2019s\nsouls which we are considering. In Dahome, according to Captain Burton,\nnot only are a large number of wives, eunuchs, singers, drummers, and\nsoldiers slaughtered at the king\u2019s funeral, that they may wait on him\nin another world, but \u2018whatever action, however trivial, is performed\nby the (new) king, it must dutifully be reported to his sire in the\nshadowy realm. A victim, almost always a war-captive, is chosen; the\nmessage is delivered to him, an intoxicating draught of rum follows it,\nand he is dispatched to Hades in the best of humours[944].\u2019 There is\ntherefore no objection to the supposition that the Hellenic people too\nfrom the days of prehistoric savagery were constantly actuated by this\nmotive.\n\nOn the other hand it is equally admissible to think that some cruder\nmotive first led the population of Greece to adopt the custom of human\nsacrifice, and that it was only comparatively late in their history,\nin an age when men\u2019s humaner instincts were offended by the atrocity\nof the rite and religious speculation on the subject of the soul\u2019s\nimmortality was rife, that the old custom was invested with a new\nmeaning. Herodotus clearly recognised the connexion between the rite\nof the Getae and the doctrine of immortality which was bound up with\nthe names of Zalmoxis and Pythagoras; and it is possible that in Greece\ntoo the later justification of human sacrifice was founded on the same\ndoctrine. It would have been an irony of fate truly if a doctrine not\nindeed founded, I think, but largely expounded by Pythagoras, who\nforbade his followers to kill even animals for the purposes of food,\nshould have been so construed as to furnish a plea for the immolation\nof men; but it is quite clear that a belief in the activity of the soul\nafter death, superimposed upon the desire for close communion between\nmen and gods, might have had that issue.\n\nBut, as I have said, I see no means of deciding at what date the\ncorrelation of the conception of the dead as messengers and the custom\nof human sacrifice as cause and effect first entered men\u2019s minds; but\nthat in the historical age that correlation was acknowledged seems to\nme highly probable. Such a view would certainly have militated against\nthe substitution of animal for human victims; for only a man would have\nbeen felt to be capable of understanding the message and of delivering\nit to the god to whom he was sent. This perhaps is the reason why the\nuse of a surrogate animal--though early introduced, as one version of\nthe story of Iphigenia proves--never met with universal acceptance, and\nwhy also at the present day there remains a vague but real feeling that\nfor the proper laying of foundations a human victim is preferable to\nbeast or bird[945].\n\nTo single out particular instances of ancient sacrifice in which\nthis motive may have operated is, owing to the general absence of\ndata concerning the ritual, well-nigh impossible. The sacrifice to\nLycaean Zeus was performed upon an altar before which, according to\nPausanias[946], there stood two columns and upon them two gilded\neagles; and we may surmise that as the eagles represented to his mind\nthe messengers sent by Zeus to men, so did the human victim represent\nthe messenger of men to Zeus. But this can be only a conjecture, for\nPausanias\u2019 silence admits of no more.\n\nOf the ceremony connected with the _pharmakos_, or human scape-goat,\nat Athens and elsewhere somewhat more is known. Certain persons\nungainly in appearance and debased in character were maintained at the\npublic expense, in order that, if any calamity such as a pestilence\nshould befall the city, they might be sacrificed to purify the city\nfrom pollution. These persons were called \u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03af, \u2018scape-goats,\u2019 or\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, \u2018purifications[947].\u2019 \u2018If calamity overtook a city through\ndivine wrath, whether it were famine or pestilence or any other bane,\u2019\na _pharmakos_ was led out to an appointed place for sacrifice. Cheese,\nbarley-cake, and dried figs were given to him. He was smitten seven\ntimes on the privy parts with squills and wild figs and other wild\nplants; and finally he was burnt with fire upon fuel collected from\nwild trees, and the ashes were scattered to the winds and the sea[948].\nAt Athens, it appears, this rite was performed, not under the stress of\noccasional calamity, but annually as part of the _Thargelia_, and was\ntherefore associated with Apollo[949].\n\nAll this evidence, with corroboration from other sources than those to\nwhich I have referred, has recently been set forth by Miss Harrison,\nwho certainly has made out a strong case for the view which she thus\nsummarises: \u2018The leading out of the _pharmakos_ is then a purely\nmagical ceremony based on ignorance and fear; it is not a human\nsacrifice to Apollo or to any other divinity or even ghost, it is a\nceremony of physical expulsion[950].\u2019 In other words, the _pharmakos_\nwas treated as an incarnation of the polluting influence from which the\ncity was suffering; and his expulsion (which only incidentally involved\nhis death) was the means of purification.\n\nBut there are certain points in the practice which incline me to put\nforward another view of the _pharmakos_. His mission undoubtedly was to\npurify the city; but the question to my mind is whether he was expelled\nas a personification of the pollution or was led out and despatched to\nthe other world as a messenger on the city\u2019s behalf to petition Apollo\nor some other deity for purification from the defilement.\n\nIt might, I think, have been this Greek rite which was present to\nHerodotus\u2019 mind when he was describing human sacrifice among the Getae.\nHe was apparently familiar, we saw, with the conception of the human\nvictim as a messenger; and the contrasts in method which seem to have\nstruck him most would certainly have been provided by the ceremony\nof the _pharmakos_. The Getae chose the victim by lot from among\nthemselves; the Athenians apparently selected some deformed or criminal\nslave--one of the very scum of the population. The Getae impaled their\nmessenger upon the spears of warriors; the Athenians treated the\n_pharmakos_ as a burnt-sacrifice. The Getae entrusted their messages\nto the victim before he was slain; did the Athenians perchance whisper\ntheir petitions for purification in the ear of the dead _pharmakos_ as\nhe lay on the pyre? Was he the messenger whose treatment Herodotus had\nin mind?\n\nThere are certain points in the ritual itself which make for that view.\nThe _pharmakos_ was maintained for a time at the public cost. Why so?\nA kindred custom of Marseilles in ancient times supplies the answer.\n\u2018Whenever the inhabitants of Marseilles suffer from a pestilence, one\nof the poorer class offers himself to be kept at the public expense and\nfed on specially pure foods. After this has been done he is decorated\nwith sacred boughs and clad in holy garments, and led about through\nthe whole city to the accompaniment of curses, in order that upon him\nmay fall all the ills of the whole city, and thus he is cast headlong\ndown[951].\u2019 The _pharmakos_ was therefore publicly maintained in order\nthat he might be purified by diet. Again, we know, the _pharmakos_\nwas provided before the sacrifice with cheese, barley-cake, and dried\nfigs--pure food, it would seem, with which to sustain himself on his\njourney to the other world. Again, he was smitten seven times on the\nprivy parts with squills and branches of wild fig and other wild\nplants. Why with squill and wild fig? Because plants of this kind were\npurgative, as Miss Harrison[952] very clearly points out. Among other\nevidences of the existence of this idea, Lucian[953] makes Menippus\nrelate how before he was allowed to consult the oracle of the dead he\nwas \u201cpurged and wiped clean and consecrated with squill and torches.\u201d\nAnd why on the privy parts? Because sexual purity was required. When\nCreon was bidden to sacrifice a son for the salvation of his city\nin a time of calamity such as commonly called for the sacrifice of\na _pharmakos_, Haemon was refused because of his marriage[954], and\nMenoeceus was the only pure victim. And why beaten at all? Because\nagain, as Miss Harrison shows[955], the act of beating was expulsive of\nevil and pollution. So then the chief part of the ritual was devoted to\npurifying the _pharmakos_ himself.\n\nBut if the _pharmakos_ was thus himself made pure, how could his\nexpulsion purify the city? How could a man deliberately cleansed by\nevery religious or magical device serve as the embodiment of that\npollution of which the city sought to be rid? Miss Harrison[956] seeks\nto explain this difficulty on the grounds of that combination of the\nnotions \u2018sacred\u2019 and \u2018accursed,\u2019 \u2018pure\u2019 and \u2018impure,\u2019 which the savage\ndescribes in the word \u2018taboo.\u2019 But the notion of \u2018taboo,\u2019 though\ncomplex, is not illogical; anything supernatural, which when properly\nused or respected is holy, is logically enough believed to be fraught\nwith a curse for those who misuse or disregard it. But deliberately\nto purify that which is to be the embodiment of defilement is not\nthe outcome of a complex but logical primitive notion; it is simply\nillogical.\n\nThe view of the rite then which I propose is briefly this. The\n_pharmakos_ was originally a messenger, representative of a whole\npeople, carrying to some god their petition for deliverance from any\ngreat calamity; and, that he might be fitted to enter the presence\nof the god, he was purified, like Menippus before he was allowed to\napproach even an oracle, by every known means. But the office of\n_pharmakos_ did not always remain a post of honour. It was naturally\nnot coveted by those who found any pleasure in life; and gradually the\nduty devolved upon the lowest of the low. Instead of an Iphigenia or\na Menoeceus the people\u2019s chosen representative was some criminal or\nslave, and the personality of the messenger overshadowed the character\nof his office. The original purport of the rite was forgotten. Instead\nof being honoured as the people\u2019s ambassador, specially purified for\nhis mission of intercession with the gods, he was deemed an outcast\nby whose removal the people could rid themselves of pollution. Thus\nthe religious rite lost its true motive and degenerated into a magical\nceremony of riddance.\n\nThat this debased idea was the vulgar interpretation of the rite in\nhistorical Athens is absolutely proved by a passage from Lysias\u2019\nspeech against Andocides: \u2018We needs must hold that in avenging\nourselves and ridding ourselves of Andocides we purify the city and\nperform apotropaic ceremonies and solemnly expel a _pharmakos_ and rid\nourselves of a criminal; for of this sort the fellow is[957].\u2019 But the\nwhole ritual forms a protest against that idea. Its keynote was the\nsanctification, not the degradation, of the _pharmakos_. In Marseilles\nindeed the people\u2019s change of attitude towards the messenger whom they\nso scrupulously purified had gone so far that imprecations upon him\nwere substituted for the prayers which he should have been bidden to\ncarry; but in Athens and in Ionia the ritual itself, so far as we know,\ncontained no suggestion of contempt or hatred of the victim. It was\nonly the appearance and the character of those who were selected as\n_pharmakoi_ which made of the word a term of vulgar abuse such as we\nfind it to be in Aristophanes[958]; for the scattering of the victim\u2019s\nashes to the winds and waves must not be interpreted as an act denoting\nany abhorrence of the dead man. Its significance is rather this.\nReligious motives had involved an act of bloodshed, and the people who\nhad performed it as a religious duty were, like Orestes, none the less\nguilty of blood. In any case of blood-guilt it was held prudent for\nthe guilty party to take precautions against his victim\u2019s vengeance;\nand one means to this end was, as we shall see later, to burn the body\nand scatter its ashes. In the modern story from Santorini there is a\nprecaution mentioned which has precisely the same object; the victim\u2019s\nhands, as well as his head, were cut off. This, as I shall show later,\nis a survival of the old \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 or mutilation of murdered men,\nby which they were rendered innocuous, if they should return from the\ngrave, and incapable of vengeance upon their murderers. There is then,\nI repeat, nothing in the ritual itself which suggests any contempt or\nhatred of the victim, as there assuredly would have been if from the\nfirst he had been the incarnation of the city\u2019s defilement.\n\nPossibly then the _pharmakos_ was originally a messenger from men\nto gods, sent in any time of great calamity and peril; possibly too\nthis significance of the rite had not in Herodotus\u2019 time been wholly\nsupplanted by the lower view to which Lysias gave utterance. Lysias\nwas addressing a jury and abusing an opponent; a vulgar and base\npresentment of the _pharmakos_ suited the occasion. But sober and\nreflective men may still have read in the ritual its early meaning and\nhave recognised in the _pharmakos_, for all his sorry appearance, the\npurified representative of a people sent by them to lay their prayers\nbefore some god.\n\nThis, I am aware, is a suggestion and no more. To prove the existence\nof this motive underlying any given case of human sacrifice in ancient\ntimes is, owing to the meagre character of the data, impossible. But\nsince at any rate the conception of the dead as messengers was known\nto the ancients--for that much, I think, I have proved--the suggestion\ndeserves consideration. If it be right, it shows that even the most\nugly and repulsive ceremonies of Greek worship need not be regarded as\ndamning refutation of the beauty of Greek religion. Though the act of\nhuman sacrifice is horrible, the motive for it may have been sublime.\nWhere else in the civilised world is the faith which whispers messages\nin a dead ear? Who shall cast the first stone at those who in this\nfaith dared to speed their messenger upon the road of death? Surely\nsuch a deed is the crowning act of a faith which by dreams and oracles,\nby auspices and sacrificial omens, has ever sought after communion with\nthe gods.\n\nYet no, that faith aspired even higher; another chapter will treat of\na sacrament which foreshadowed not merely the colloquy of men with\ngods as of servants with masters, but a closer communion between them,\nthe communion of love; for, as Plato says in the text which heads\nthis chapter, \u2018all sacrifices and all the arts of divination, wherein\nconsists the mutual communion of gods and men, are for nought else but\nthe guarding and tending of Love.\u2019\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[787] Hesiod, _Works and Days_, 185, with reading \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f44\u03c0\u03b1 \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n[788] \u0392\u03ac\u03ba\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2 and \u0392\u03ac\u03ba\u03c7\u03b7, cf. Eur. _H. F._ 1119.\n\n[789] _De divinatione_, I. 3.\n\n[790] _op. cit._ I. 18.\n\n[791] _Prom. Vinct._ 485-99.\n\n[792] Suid. _Lex._ s.v. \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae.\n\n[793] Cic. _de Divin._ I. 4.\n\n[794] _Ibid._ I. 6 and 18.\n\n[795] Above, p. 281.\n\n[796] Cf. Lucian, _Philopseudes_, 19 and 20.\n\n[797] See above p. 60.\n\n[798] Nov. 26.\n\n[799] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, III. p. 19.\n\n[800] Cf. Cic. _de Divinat._ I. 18.\n\n[801] The shift of accent is curious. It may be some result of dialect,\nbut is not explained.\n\n[802] e.g. Hom. _Od._ XVIII. 116.\n\n[803] At midsummer. The name of the custom \u1f41 \u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 is sometimes\ngiven as a title to the saint himself; and from his willingness to\nenlighten enquirers concerning their future lot he is also named\nsometimes \u1f41 \u03a6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2 (the enlightener) and \u1f41 \u1fec\u03b9\u03b6\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c2 (from \u1fe5\u03af\u03b6\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf,\n\u2018lot\u2019 or \u2018destiny\u2019), \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 86.\n\n[804] Sonnini de Magnoncourt, _Voyage en Gr\u00e8ce et en Turquie_, II. pp.\n126-7.\n\n[805] In the _Iliad_ it is not found. Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _Hist. de la\nDivination_, I. p. 156.\n\n[806] Hom. _Od._ XVII. 114 ff. Cf. also _Od._ XX. 98 ff.\n\n[807] For examples see Herod. V. 72, VIII. 114, IX. 64, 91; Xenoph.\n_Anab._ I. 8. 16. Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _op. cit._ I. p. 157. The word\n\u03c6\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7 is in some of these passages used in the sense of \u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd.\n\n[808] Paus. VII. 22. 2, 3.\n\n[809] Le Bas et Waddington, _Voyage Arch\u00e9ologique_, V. 1724^a.\n\n[810] Paus. IX. 11. 7. Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _Hist. de la Divin._ I. p.\n159 and II. p. 400.\n\n[811] Paus. _ibid._\n\n[812] The proper precaution is prescribed in the couplet, \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03c1\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\n\u03c3\u1f70\u03bd \u1f30\u03b4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u1fb6, | \u03ba\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u2019 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b4\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac. _Si per viam sacerdoti\noccurres, testiculos tuos teneto._\n\n[813] \u03b3\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf, \u2018a donkey, with your leave.\u2019 So also often\nin mentioning the number \u2018three,\u2019 and sometimes with \u2018five.\u2019\n\n[814] Aristoph. _Aves_, 720.\n\n[815] _Eccles._ 792.\n\n[816] Theophr. _Char._ 16. 1.\n\n[817] _Ibid._\n\n[818] _op. cit._ 16. 3.\n\n[819] Cf. Suidas, s.v. \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae.\n\n[820] Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _op. cit._ I. p. 129.\n\n[821] Assuming derivation from \u03bf\u1f36\u03bf\u03c2, as \u03c5\u1f31\u03c9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2 from \u03c5\u1f31\u03cc\u03c2, \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2 from\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n[822] Plutarch, _de solertia animalium_, cap. 20 (p. 975).\n\n[823] Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _Hist. de la Divin._ I. p. 133-4.\n\n[824] e.g. Hom. _Il._ XXIV. 310.\n\n[825] Hom. _Il._ VIII. 247.\n\n[826] _Etymol. Magn._ p. 619, s.v. \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[827] Apoll. Rhod. III. 930.\n\n[828] Ovid, _Metam._ II. 548 sqq.\n\n[829] Hom. _Od._ XV. 526.\n\n[830] Hom. _Il._ X. 274.\n\n[831] Plutarch, _Pyth. Orac._ cap. 22.\n\n[832] Paroemiogr. Graec. I. pp. 228, 231, 352.\n\n[833] \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u1f60\u03bc\u03bf\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[834] Suid., _Lexicon_, s.v. \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae.\n\n[835] _op. cit._ \u00a7 2.\n\n[836] Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _op. cit._ I. p. 140, note 2.\n\n[837] Hesiod, _Works and Days_, 745.\n\n[838] The identification of the birds named by even the more\nintelligent peasants is necessarily uncertain. The name \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\nis seemingly onomatopoeic, suggesting the hooting of the owl, but is\ngenerally reserved to the brown owl.\n\n[839] _op. cit._ \u00a7 2.\n\n[840] In the dialects of Scyros and other Aegean islands, \u03ba before the\nsounds of \u03b5 and \u03b9 is regularly softened to \u03c4\u03c3. The \u03c1 has, as often,\nsuffered metathesis.\n\n[841] Hom. _Od._ XV. 524 ff.\n\n[842] Derivation from \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac, instead of \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, and \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03af is possible,\nbut less likely. It would then be an euphemistic name, \u2018bird of joy.\u2019\nAn owl named \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9 (on which see above, p. 180) appears to be\na semi-mythical bird chiefly found in Hades; it is possibly identical\nwith \u2018Charon\u2019s bird.\u2019\n\n[843] Cf. \u1f18\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd. \u039c\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 126.\n\n[844] _Il._ VII. 184.\n\n[845] _Od._ XVII. 365.\n\n[846] _Il._ I. 597.\n\n[847] \u0392\u03b9\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u039a\u03bf\u03c1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f18\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, p. 320.\n\n[848] Aristot. _Hist. An._ IX. 1.\n\n[849] Cf. Aesch. _Sept._ 24, Soph. _Antig._ 999 sqq.\n\n[850] Origen, _contra Cels._ IV. 88.\n\n[851] _Homeric Hymn to Demeter_, 46.\n\n[852] e.g. Passow, _Popul. Carm._ nos. 122, 123, 213, 232, 234, 235,\n251 _et passim_.\n\n[853] A. Luber in a monograph _Die V\u00f6gel in den historischen Liedern\nder Neugriechen_, pp. 6 ff., notes the impossibility of determining in\nmany cases whether a real bird or a scout is meant.\n\n[854] Passow, _Popul. Carm._ no. 415, vv. 5-7. Cf. 413, 414.\n\n[855] _Ibid._ no. 410.\n\n[856] \u03be\u03b5\u03c6\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9 (probably a diminutive from \u1f40\u03be\u03cd\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2), a \u2018falcon,\u2019 is a\nfavourite name for the warrior, just as the humbler \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03af, \u2018bird,\u2019 is\nused for \u2018scout.\u2019\n\n[857] With reference to Ibrahim\u2019s Egyptian troops.\n\n[858] Passow, _Popul. Carm._ no. 256.\n\n[859] Cic. _de Divin._ I. 52, II. 12, 15, 16, 17. Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq,\n_Hist. de la Divin._ I. p. 167.\n\n[860] Plato, _Tim._ 71 c.\n\n[861] Philostr. _Vit. Apollon._ VIII. 7. 49-52. Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq,\n_op. cit._ I. p. 168.\n\n[862] For authorities on this point see Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _op. cit._ I.\np. 170.\n\n[863] Cf. _ibid._ p. 169.\n\n[864] K. O. M\u00fcller (_die Etrusker_, II. p. 187) places the introduction\nof the custom in the sixth century B.C.\n\n[865] Bybilakis, _Neugriechisches Leben_, p. 49 (1840).\n\n[866] \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u1f60\u03bc\u03bf\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, \u00a7 1.\n\n[867] \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 210. No details are given.\n\n[868] \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 176.\n\n[869] The writer does not actually mention the two things in connexion.\nHe belongs to that class of modern Greek writers who exhibit their\nown intellectual emancipation by deploring or deriding popular\nsuperstitions, and wastes so much energy therein that he fails to\nnote such points of interest. But, since it is not probable that the\npeasants of Epirus eat meat more often than other Greek peasants, the\nconnexion of the sacrifice and the divination may, I think, be assumed.\n\n[870] Certain details of the art as practised in Macedonia are given by\nAbbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 96. But, as they may in part be due\nto Albanian influence there, I have not made use of them.\n\n[871] \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u1f60\u03bc\u03bf\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. _l. c._\n\n[872] Reading \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 for \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 of Codex Vindobonensis, as\npublished in _Philologus_, 1853, p. 166.\n\n[873] The word is \u1fe5\u03ac\u03c7\u03b9\u03c2. This in relation to the body generally means\nthe \u2018spine,\u2019 but can be used of any ridge (as of a hill), and so here,\nI suppose, of the ridge of bone along the shoulder-blade.\n\n[874] So I understand the somewhat obscure sentence, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u1f7a \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f60\u03bc\u03bf\u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bf \u1f51\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1fe5\u03ac\u03c7\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.,\nconjecturing \u03bf\u1f31 before \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u1f7a, where Codex Vindob. has corruptly \u03b5\u1f30.\n\n[875] _Prom. Vinct._ 493.\n\n[876] Pausan. VI. 2. 5.\n\n[877] Tatian, _adv. Graecos_, I. Cf. Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _Hist. de la\nDivin._ I. p. 170.\n\n[878] In Zagorion in Epirus, the ram is sacrificed on the entrance\nof the bride to her new home (cf. the sacrifice of a cock mentioned\nbelow). \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 183.\n\n[879] Curtius Wachsmuth, _Das alte Griechenland im Neuen_, p. 86.\n\n[880] In Macedonia the weasel is said on the contrary to be a good\nomen. Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 108.\n\n[881] \u039b\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, \u0396\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 203.\n\n[882] Theophr. _Char._ 16.\n\n[883] Theocr. _Id._ II. 35.\n\n[884] So too in antiquity apparently according to Propertius IV. (V.)\n3. 60; Ovid (_Heroid._ XIX. 151) on the contrary reckons it a good omen.\n\n[885] Theocr. _Id._ III. 37 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f40\u03c6\u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c5 \u1f41 \u03b4\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2\u00b7 \u1f06\u03c1\u03ac \u03b3\u2019\n\u1f30\u03b4\u03b7\u03c3\u1ff6 | \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03ac\u03bd; the order of the words, it will be seen, justifies the\nemphasis which I have given to \u03b4\u03b5\u03be\u03b9\u03cc\u03c2 and to \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03ac\u03bd.\n\n[886] _Dialog. Meretric._ 9. 2.\n\n[887] The significance of right and left in this case is reversed in\nMacedonia (cf. Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 112). But in all these\ninstances I am only giving what I have found to be the commonest form\nof the superstition in Greece as a whole.\n\n[888] Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 111.\n\n[889] The word \u03c8\u03bf\u03c6\u1ff6 is properly used only of the dying of animals.\n\n[890] \u1f10\u03c0\u03ad\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f14\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[891] Hom. _Od._ XVII. 539 ff. Cf. Xenoph. _Anab._ III. 2. 9 and\nCatull. XLV. 9 and 18.\n\n[892] See above, p. 304.\n\n[893] \u039a\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, III. p. 22.\n\n[894] e.g. at the oracle of Hermes Agoraeus at Pherae the enquirer\nperformed the whole ceremony required and obtained his response without\nthe intervention of any priest or seer. Cf. above, p. 305.\n\n[895] See above, p. 121.\n\n[896] See above, p. 55.\n\n[897] Cf. an article by \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u039c\u03b7\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f08\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u1ff7 \u039c\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u1f09\u03b3\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u0393\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03b3\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u0392\u03b1\u03bb\u03c3\u03b1\u03bc\u03af\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, in \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, no. 411, 13th\nNov. 1883.\n\n[898] Le P\u00e8re Robert (Sauger), _Histoire nouvelle des anciens ducs\net autres souverains de l\u2019Archipel_ (Paris, 1699) pp. 196-198. Cf.\nTournefort, _Voyage du Levant_, I. pp. 281 ff.; Sonnini de Magnoncourt,\n_Voyage en Gr\u00e8ce et en Turquie_, vol. I. p. 290.\n\n[899] Bouch\u00e9 Leclercq, _Hist. de la Divin._ I. p. 187.\n\n[900] Pausan. III. 23. 8.\n\n[901] _De sacrificiis_, p. 12.\n\n[902] _Ibid._ cap. 2.\n\n[903] Plato, _Sympos._ p. 188.\n\n[904] Hom. _Il._ IX. 497 ff.\n\n[905] See above, pp. 322-3 and 326.\n\n[906] See above, p. 265.\n\n[907] See above, pp. 58-9.\n\n[908] Ancient offerings of this type, as found at Epidaurus, should\nnot I think be grouped all together as thank-offerings; many of them\nbelonged probably to the propitiatory class.\n\n[909] See above, p. 121.\n\n[910] See above, p. 145.\n\n[911] See above, p. 201.\n\n[912] Formerly (and again latterly) called Thera.\n\n[913] Le p\u00e8re Richard, _Relation de ce qui s\u2019est pass\u00e9 \u00e0 Sant-Erini_,\np. 23.\n\n[914] Called by him \u1f44\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f01\u03b3\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03a3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5; but the fact that there is\nonly this one mountain in the island and that it still has a chapel of\nSt Stephen on it places the identification beyond all doubt.\n\n[915] This phrase as noted down by me from memory along with the rest\nof the story immediately after my interview is, I believe, verbally\nexact. The old man\u2019s words were \u1f10\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03c4\u03ae\u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03c3\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\n\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f0d\u03b3\u03b9\u2019 \u039d\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1, \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03bd\u03ac \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03bd\u1f70\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b2\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf.\n\n[916] See above, p. 55.\n\n[917] The term \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2 could not have been intended to apply to St\nNicolas; although the saints are practically treated as gods, they are\nnot so spoken of. See above, pp. 42 ff.\n\n[918] Plutarch, _Pelop._ 21 (p. 229).\n\n[919] Porph. _de Abstin._ 27 and 54.\n\n[920] Tzetz. _Hist._ XXIII. 726 ff.\n\n[921] Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, II. p. 341.\n\n[922] \u03a1\u03b1\u03b6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1, p. 16. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, II. 343.\n\n[923] _Popul. Carm._ no. 373.\n\n[924] \u03a1\u03b1\u03b6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1, p. 36. Cf. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, II. p. 342. The\nline runs \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u2019\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf.\n\n[925] Eur. _Hec._ 422-3.\n\n[926] Verg. _Aen._ II. 547 sqq.\n\n[927] Diodor. Sic. V. 28.\n\n[928] e.g. Fauriel, _Chants de la Gr\u00e8ce Moderne, Discours Pr\u00e9limin._ p.\n39. Rennell Rodd, _Customs and Lore of Mod. Greece_, p. 129.\n\n[929] Dora d\u2019Istria, _Les Femmes en Orient_, Bk. III. Letter 2.\n\n[930] Plutarch, _Vita Solon._ 20.\n\n[931] Hom. _Il._ XXIV. 719-775.\n\n[932] Plato, _Leg._ VII. p. 801.\n\n[933] An edict of the year 1662 preserved in the record-office (\n\u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c6\u03c5\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd) of Zante was shown and interpreted to me by Mons.\n\u039b\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd\u03af\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03a7. \u0396\u03ce\u03b7\u03c2, whose courtesy I wish here to acknowledge. The\nrecord-office contains much valuable material for the study of the\nperiod of Venetian supremacy in the Heptanesos.\n\n[934] Soph. _Antig._ 29; Eur. _Hec._ 30; cf. also Soph. _Antig._ 203-4\n\u03c4\u03ac\u03c6\u1ff3 \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, \u03bc\u03ae\u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03c9\u03ba\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03af \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, and _Philoct._ 360.\n\n[935] Hom. _Il._ XIX. 301-2.\n\n[936] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, pp. 335-6.\n\n[937] See below, pp. 555 ff.\n\n[938] Herodot. IV. 94.\n\n[939] For the evidence see Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of\nGreek Religion_, pp. 96 ff.\n\n[940] Cf. Paus. VIII. 38. 7 and Porphyr. _de abstinentia_, II. 27.\n\n[941] Paus. VIII. 2. 6 and VIII. 38. 7 and Frazer\u2019s note _ad loc._\n\n[942] Paus. VIII. 38. 7.\n\n[943] Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, I. p. 458.\n\n[944] Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, I. p. 462.\n\n[945] See above, p. 264.\n\n[946] Paus. VIII. 38. 7.\n\n[947] Schol. ad Ar. _Eq._ 1136 in explanation of the word \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9.\n\n[948] Tzetzes, _Hist._ XXIII. 726 ff. quoting Hipponax\u2019 authority on\nmost points.\n\n[949] Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_, pp.\n95 f.\n\n[950] _op. cit._ p. 108.\n\n[951] Serv. ad Verg. _Aen._ III. 75 as translated by Miss Harrison,\n_op. cit._ p. 108.\n\n[952] _op. cit._ p. 100.\n\n[953] Luc. _Nek._ 7.\n\n[954] Eur. _Phoen._ 944.\n\n[955] _op. cit._ p. 100.\n\n[956] _op. cit._ p. 108.\n\n[957] Lysias, _c. Andoc._ 108. 4 as translated by Miss Harrison, _op.\ncit._ p. 97\n\n[958] _Ran._ 734, _Equ._ 1405 and fragm. 532 (from Miss Harrison, _op.\ncit._ p. 97).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE RELATION OF SOUL AND BODY.\n\n\n\u00a7 1. THE MODERN GREEK VAMPIRE.\n\nThe division of the human entity into the two parts which we call\nsoul and body has been so universally recognised even among the most\nprimitive of mankind that the idea of it must have been first suggested\nby the observation of some universal phenomenon--most probably the\nphenomenon of unconsciousness whether in sleep, in fainting, in\ntrance, or in death. If it had been man\u2019s lot to pass in this world a\nlife of activity unbroken by sleep or exhaustion, and thereafter to\nbe translated like Enoch or Ganymede to another world, so that the\nspectacle of a body lying inert and senseless could never have been\nforced upon men\u2019s sight, the first impulse to speculation concerning\nthat impalpable something, the loss of which severs men from converse\nwith the waking, active world, might never have been given, and the\nduality of human nature might never have been conceived. But death\nabove all overtaking each in turn has forced in turn the mourners for\neach to muse on the future condition of these two elements which,\nunited, make a man, and, disjoined, leave but a corpse. Does neither or\ndoes one or do both of them continue? And, continuing, what degree of\nintelligence and of power has either or have both? Are they for ever\nseparated, or will they be re-united elsewhere? Such are the questions\nthat must have vexed, as they still vex, the minds of many when their\neyes were confronted by the spectacle of death.\n\nFor some indeed a means of answering or of quieting such searchings of\nheart has been found in the acceptance of religious dogma. But ancient\nGreek religion, the faith or superstition in which the Hellenic people,\ndefiant alike of destructive and of constructive philosophy, lived\nand moved and had their being, was not dogmatic; the very priests\nwere guardians and exponents of ceremonies rather than preachers of\ndoctrine; there was no organised hierarchy committed to one set creed\nand prepared to assert the divine revelation of a single formulated\nanswer to these questions. The sum total of orthodoxy amounted to\nlittle more than a belief in gods; and each man was free to believe\nwhat he would, evil as well as good, concerning them, and to find for\nhimself hope or despair. In determining therefore the views to which\nthe mass of the common-folk inclined with regard to the relations of\nsoul and body, little assistance can be obtained in the first instance\nfrom those personal opinions which literature has preserved to us,\nopinions emanating from poets and philosophers who were not of the\npeople but consciously above them, and who set themselves some to\nexpose, others to reform, the popular religion, but few simply to\nmaintain it. The conservative force of the ancient religion lay in\nthe inherited and almost instinctive beliefs of the common-folk; oral\ntradition weighed more with them than philosophic reasoning, and their\ntenacity of customs as barbarous even as human sacrifice defied the\nsoftening influences of an humaner civilisation.\n\nThat these characteristics of the ancient Greek folk are stamped\nequally upon the people of to-day is a fact which every page of\nthis book has confirmed; and it is therefore by analysis of modern\nbeliefs and customs relative to death that I propose to discover\nthe fundamental ideas held by the Greek people from the beginning\nconcerning the relations between soul and body. For I venture to\nthink that the great teachers of antiquity, whose doctrines dominate\nancient literature, were often more widely removed by their genius,\nthan are the modern folk by the lapse of centuries, from the peasants\nof those early days, and that the oral tradition of a people who have\ninstinctively clung to every ancient belief and custom is even after\nmore than two thousand years a safer guide than the contemporary\nwritings of men who deliberately discarded or arbitrarily modified\ntradition in favour of the results of their own personal speculations.\nFirst then the peasants of modern Greece must furnish our clue to the\npopular beliefs of antiquity; afterwards we may profitably consider the\nuse and handling of those beliefs in ancient literature.\n\nTo this end I shall examine first and necessarily at some length a\ncertain abnormal condition of the dead about which very definite ideas\nare everywhere held; for the abhorrence and dread with which the\nabnormal state is regarded will be an accurate measure of the eagerness\nwith which the opposite and normal state is desired; and further in\nthis desire to promote and to secure the normal condition of the\ndeparted will be found the motive of various funeral-customs.\n\nThis abnormal condition of the dead is a kind of vampirism. It is\nbelieved that under certain conditions a dead body is withheld from\nthe normal process of corruption, is re-animated, and revisits the\nscenes of its former life, sometimes in a harmless or even kindly mood,\nbut far more often bent on mischief and on murder. The superstition\nas it now stands is by no means wholly Greek or wholly popular. Two\nextraneous influences, the one Slavonic and the other ecclesiastical,\nhave considerably modified it. But in the present section I shall\nconfine myself to describing the appearance, nature, habits, and proper\ntreatment of the Greek vampire as he is now conceived; the work of\nanalysing the superstition and of separating the pure Hellenic metal\nfrom the extraneous alloys with which in its now current form it is\ncontaminated will occupy the next section; and the two which follow\nwill be devoted to showing that the native residue of superstition was\nin fact well known to the ancient Greeks and was utilised to no small\nextent in their literature.\n\nThe best accounts of this superstition and of the savage practices to\nwhich it led are furnished by writers of the seventeenth century. At\nthe present day, though the superstition is far from extinction, the\nmore violent outbreaks of it are comparatively rare; and, although\nstories dealing with it may frequently be heard, it might perhaps be\ndifficult to piece together any complete and coherent account of the\nGreek vampire without a previous knowledge obtained from writers of\ntwo or three centuries ago. In such stories as I myself have heard I\nhave found nothing new, and have often missed something with which\nolder narratives had made me familiar. In the seventeenth century some\nparts of Greece would seem to have been infested by these vampires.\nThe island of Santorini (the ancient Thera) acquired so enduring a\nnotoriety in this respect, that even at the present day \u2018to send\nvampires to Santorini[959]\u2019 is a proverbial expression synonymous\nwith \u2018owls to Athens\u2019 or \u2018coals to Newcastle\u2019; and the inhabitants of\nthe island enjoyed so wide a reputation as experts in dealing with\nthem, that two stories recently published[960], one from Myconos and\nthe other from Sphaki\u00e1 in Crete, actually end with the despatch of a\nvampire\u2019s body to Santorini for effective treatment there. The justice\nof this reputation will shortly appear; for one of the best accounts\nof the superstition was written by a Jesuit residing in the island, to\nwhom the resurrection of these vampires seemed an unquestionable, if\nalso inexplicable, phenomenon of by no means rare occurrence. Nowadays\ncases of suspected vampirism are much less common, and I can count\nmyself very fortunate to have once witnessed the sequel of such a case.\nBut of that more anon.\n\nThe most common form of the Greek name for this species of vampire\nis \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2[961], and in order to avoid on the one hand continual\nqualification of the word \u2018vampire\u2019 (which I have used hitherto as the\nnearest though not exact equivalent) and on the other hand confusion\nof the Greek with the Slavonic species from which in certain traits\nit differs, I prefer henceforth to adopt a transliteration of the\nGreek word, and, save where I have occasion to speak of the purely\nSlavonic form of vampire, to employ the name _vryk\u00f3lakas_ (plural\n_vryk\u00f3lakes_[962]).\n\nThe first of those writers of the seventeenth century whose accounts\ndeserve attention is one to whose treatise on various Greek\nsuperstitions reference has already frequently been made, Leo Allatius.\n\u2018The _vrykolakas_,\u2019 he writes[963], \u2018is the body of a man of evil\nand immoral life--very often of one who has been excommunicated by\nhis bishop. Such bodies do not like those of other dead men suffer\ndecomposition after burial nor turn to dust, but having, as it\nappears, a skin of extreme toughness become swollen and distended\nall over, so that the joints can scarcely be bent; the skin becomes\nstretched like the parchment of a drum, and when struck gives out\nthe same sound; from this circumstance the _vrykolakas_ has received\nthe name \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 (\u201cdrumlike\u201d).\u2019 Into such a body, he continues,\nthe devil enters, and issuing from the tomb goes about, chiefly at\nnight, knocking at doors and calling one of the household. If such an\none answer, he dies next day; but a _vrykolakas_ never calls twice,\nand so the inhabitants of Chios (whence Allatius\u2019 observations and\ninformation were chiefly derived) secure themselves by always waiting\nfor a second call at night before replying. \u2018This monster is said to\nbe so destructive to men, that appearing actually in the daytime, even\nat noon--and that not only in houses but in fields and highroads and\nenclosed vineyards--it advances upon them as they walk along, and by\nits mere aspect without either speech or touch kills them.\u2019 Hence, when\nsudden deaths occur without other assignable cause, they open the tombs\nand often find such a body. Thereupon \u2018it is taken out of the grave,\nthe priests recite prayers, and it is thrown on to a burning pyre;\nbefore the supplications are finished the joints of the body gradually\nfall apart; and all the remains are burnt to ashes....\u2019 \u2018This belief,\u2019\nhe pursues, \u2018is not of fresh and recent growth in Greece; in ancient\nand modern times alike men of piety who have received the confessions\nof Christians have tried to root it out of the popular mind.\u2019\n\nAs evidence of this statement he adduces a _nomocanon_, or ordinance of\nthe Greek Church, of uncertain authorship:\n\n\u2018Concerning a dead man, if such be found whole and incorrupt, the which\nthey call _vrykolakas_.\n\n\u2018It is impossible that a dead man become a _vrykolakas_, save it be\nthat the Devil, wishing to delude some that they may do things unmeet\nand incur the wrath of God, maketh these portents, and oft-times\nat night causeth men to imagine that the dead man whom they knew\nbefore[964] cometh and speaketh with them, and in their dreams too they\nsee visions. Other times they see him in the road, walking or standing\nstill, and, more than this, he even throttles men.\n\n\u2018Then there is a commotion and they run to the grave and dig to see the\nremains of the man ... and the dead man--one who has long been dead and\nburied--appears to them to have flesh and blood and nails and hair ...\nand they collect wood and set fire to it and burn the body and do away\nwith it altogether....\u2019\n\nThen, after denying the reality of such things, which exist in\nimagination (\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03bd) only, the _nomocanon_ with some\ninconsistency continues: \u2018But know that when such remains be found,\nthe which, as we have said, is a work of the Devil, ye must summon the\npriests to chant an invocation of the Mother of God, ... and to perform\nmemorial services for the dead with funeral-meats[965].\u2019\n\nAllatius then leaving the _nomocanon_ pronounces his own views. \u2018It is\nthe height of folly to deny altogether that such bodies are sometimes\nfound in the graves incorrupt, and that by use of them the Devil, if\nGod permit him, devises horrible plans to the hurt of the human race.\u2019\nHe therefore advocates the burning of them, always accompanied by\nprayers.\n\nTo the fact of non-decomposition he cites several witnesses--among\nthem Crusius[966] who narrates the case of a Greek\u2019s body being found\nby Turks in this condition after the man had been two years dead and\nbeing burnt by them. Moreover Allatius himself claims to have been an\neye-witness of such a scene when he was at school in Chios. A tomb\nhaving for some reason been opened at the church of St Antony, \u2018on the\ntop of the bones of other men there was found lying a corpse perfectly\nwhole; it was unusually tall of stature; clothes it had none, time\nor moisture having caused them to perish; the skin was distended,\nhard, and livid, and so swollen everywhere, that the body had no flat\nsurfaces but was round like a full sack[967]. The face was covered\nwith hair dark and curly; on the head there was little hair, as also\non the rest of the body, which appeared smooth all over; the arms by\nreason of the swelling of the corpse were stretched out on each side\nlike the arms of a cross; the hands were open, the eyelids closed, the\nmouth gaping, and the teeth white.\u2019 How the body was finally treated or\ndisposed of is not related.\n\nThe next writer whose testimony deserves notice and respect is Father\nFran\u00e7ois Richard, a Jesuit priest of the island of Santorini, to whose\nwork on that island reference has above been made[968]. Agreeing with\nAllatius in his description of the appearance of _vrykolakes_, he\nadds thereto many instances of their unpleasantly active habits. His\nwhole narrative bears the stamp of good faith, but is too long to\ntranslate in full; and I must therefore content myself with a _pr\u00e9cis_\nof it, indicating by inverted commas such phrases and sentences as are\nliterally rendered.\n\nThe Devil, he says[969], works by means of dead bodies as well as\nby living sorcerers. \u2018These bodies he animates and preserves for a\nlong time in their entirety; he appears with the face of the dead,\ntraversing now the streets and anon the open country; he enters men\u2019s\nhouses, leaving some horror-stricken, others deprived of speech, and\nothers again lifeless; here he inflicts violence, there loss, and\neverywhere terror.\u2019 At first I believed these apparitions to be merely\nthe souls of the dead returning to ask help to escape the sooner\nfrom Purgatory; but such souls never commit such excesses--assault,\ndestruction of property, death, and so forth. It is clearly then a form\nof diabolical possession; for indeed the priests with the bishop\u2019s\npermission employ forms of exorcism. They assemble on Saturday (the\nonly day on which _vrykolakes_ rest in the grave and cannot stir\nabroad) and exhume the body which is suspected. \u2018And when they find\nit whole, fresh, and full of blood, they take it as certain that it\nwas serving as an instrument of the Devil.\u2019 They accordingly continue\ntheir exorcisms until with the departure of the Devil the body begins\nto decompose and gradually to lose \u2018its colour and its _embonpoint_,\nand is left a noisome and ghastly lump.\u2019 So rapid was the decomposition\nin the case of a Greek priest\u2019s daughter, Caliste by name, that no one\ncould remain in the church, and the body was hastily re-interred; from\nthat time she ceased to appear.\n\nWhen exorcisms fail, they tear the heart out, cut it to pieces, and\nthen burn the whole body to ashes.\n\nAt Stampalia (Astypalaea), he proceeds, a short time before my arrival\n(about the middle of the seventeenth century) five bodies were so\ntreated, those of three married men, a Greek monk, and a girl. In Nio\n(Ios) a woman who was confessing to me affirmed that she had seen\nher husband again fifty days after burial, though already his grave\nhad been once changed and the ordinary rites performed to lay him.\nHe began however again to torment the people, killing actually some\nfour or five; so his body was exhumed for the second time and was\npublicly burnt. Only two years ago they burnt two bodies in the island\nof Siphanto for the same reason; \u2018and rarely does a year pass in\nwhich people do not speak with dread of these false resuscitations.\u2019\nIn Santorini a shoemaker named Alexander living at Pyrgos became a\n_vrykolakas_; he used to frequent his house, mend his children\u2019s shoes,\ndraw water at the reservoir, and cut wood for the use of his family;\nbut the people became frightened, exhumed him, and burned him, and he\nwas seen no more.... In Amorgos these _vrykolakes_ have been seen not\nonly at night but in open day, five or six together in a field, feeding\napparently on green beans.\n\nI heard, continues the holy father, from the Abb\u00e9 of the famous\nmonastery of Amorgos, that a certain merchant of Patmos, having gone\nabroad on business, died. His widow sent a boat to bring his body home.\nNow it so happened that one of the sailors sat down by accident upon\nthe coffin and to his horror felt the body move. They opened the coffin\ntherefore and found the body intact. Their fears being thus confirmed,\nthey nailed up the coffin again and handed it over to the widow without\na word and it was buried. But soon the dead man began to appear at\nnight in the houses, violent and turbulent to such a degree that more\nthan fifteen persons died of fright or of injuries inflicted by it. The\nexorcisms of priests and monks proved useless, and they thought best\nto send back the body whence it had been brought. The sailors however\nunshipped it at the first desert island[970] and burnt it there, after\nwhich it was seen no more.\nThe Abb\u00e9 considered this possession by the devil to be a proof of the\ntruth of the Greek persuasion, alleging that no Mohammedan or Roman\nCatholic ever became a _vrykolakas_[971]. This however is not strictly\naccurate, for in Santorini a Roman priest, who had apostatized and\nturned Mohammedan and who for his many crimes was finally hanged,\nappeared after death and was only disposed of by burning.\n\nAnother case was that of Iannetis Anapliotis of the same island, an\nusurer who about a year before his death repented of his misdeeds\nand made what amends he could; he also left his wife an order to pay\nanything else justly reclaimed from him. She however though giving\nmuch in charity did not pay his debts. It was just six weeks after\nhis death when she refused to satisfy some just claim for repayment,\nand immediately he began to appear in the streets and to molest above\nall his own wife and relatives. Also he woke up priests early in the\nmorning, telling them it was time for matins, pulled coverlets off\npeople as they slept, shook their beds, left the taps of wine-barrels\nrunning, and so on. One woman was so frightened in broad day-light\nas to lose the power of speech for three days, and another whose\nbed he shook suffered a miscarriage. Then at length his name was\npublished--for as a man of some position he had till then been spared.\nExorcism was tried in vain by the Greek priests. Then by my advice the\nwidow paid off all her husband\u2019s debts and made due restitution. Also\nshe had the body exhumed and exorcised a second time. On this occasion\nI saw it, but it did not look like a real _vrykolakas_; for, though the\nhands were whole and parchment-like, the head and the entrails were\nto some extent decomposed. At the end of the ceremony of exorcism the\npriests hacked the body to pieces and buried it in a new grave. From\nthis time the _vrykolakas_ never re-appeared, but this was due, in my\nopinion, to the restitution made, not to the treatment of the body.\n\nThere are in Greek cemeteries dead bodies of another kind which after\nfifteen or sixteen years--sometimes even twenty or thirty--are found\ninflated like balloons, and when they are thrown on the ground or\nrolled along, sound like drums; for this reason they have the name\n\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c0\u03af[972] (drum).... The common opinion of the Greeks is that this\ninflation is a sure sign that the man had suffered excommunication;\nand indeed Greek priests and bishops add always to the formula of\nexcommunication the curse, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u2018and after death to remain indissoluble[973].\u2019\n\nIn a manuscript from the Church of St Sophia at Thessalonica, he\ncontinues, I found the following:\n\n \u1f49\u03c0\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd \u1f22 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd, \u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2\n \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n \u1f18\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b8\u03b5\u03bc\u03b1, \u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b9\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03cd\u03bb\u03b9\u03ac\n \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n \u1f18\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c3\u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2[974] (_sic_), \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c6\u03c9\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n \u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n \u1f18\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c6\u03c9\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b9\u03b5\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2.\n\n \u2018He who has left a command of his parents unfulfilled or is under\n their curse has only the front portions of his body preserved.\n\n \u2018He who is under an anathema looks yellow and his fingers are wrinkled.\n\n \u2018He who looks white has been excommunicated by divine laws.\n\n \u2018He who looks black has been excommunicated by a bishop.\u2019\n\nFrom this account it is manifest that Father Richard, with the\nexperience acquired by residence in Santorini, drew a distinction not\nknown to Leo Allatius between two classes of dead persons. Those, who\nthough not subject to the natural law of decomposition lay quiescent\nin their graves, were merely \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9 or \u2018drum-like\u2019; while\n_vrykolakes_ proper were addicted also to periodical resurrection.\nAnd the extract with which he concludes his description shows that\nthe authorities of the rival Church pretended to powers of even more\nsubtle discrimination between different species of incorrupt corpses.\nThe importance of Father Richard\u2019s distinction will appear later; there\nwas originally a difference in the usage of the two words, although\nnot precisely the difference which he makes; but by the middle of the\nseventeenth century popular speech rarely discriminated between them.\nTo the common-folk, whose views Leo Allatius fairly presents, any\nbody which was withheld from decomposition for any cause was at least\na potential _vrykolakas_, even if its power of resurrection was not\nknown to have been exerted and no act of violence had been traced to it.\n\nFor further attestation of the prevalence and the violence of this\nsuperstition it would be easy to quote many graphic accounts by other\nwriters, such as Robert Sauger[975], another Jesuit of Santorini, or\nthe traveller Tournefort[976]. But it will suffice to call as witness\nPaul Lucas, whose observations concern a part of the Greek world remote\nenough from either Chios or Santorini, the island of Corfu. \u2018Some\npersons,\u2019 he says, \u2018who seem possessed of sound good sense speak of a\ncurious thing which often happens in this place, as also in the island\nof Santorini. According to their account dead persons return and show\nthemselves in open day, going even into the houses and inspiring great\nterror in those who see them. In consequence of this, whenever one of\nthese apparitions is seen, the people go at once to the cemetery to\nexhume the corpse, which is then cut in pieces and finally is burnt by\nsentence of the Governors and Magistrates. This done, these quasi-dead\nreturn no more. Monsieur Angelo Edme, Warden and Governor of the\nisland, assured me that he himself had pronounced a sentence of this\nkind in a case where upwards of fifty reasonable persons were found to\ntestify to the occurrence[977].\u2019\n\nThe superstition, which had so firm a grip upon the Greeks of two or\nthree centuries ago, has by no means relaxed its hold at the present\nday, in spite of the efforts made by the higher authorities civil\nand ecclesiastical, native and foreign, to suppress those savage and\ngruesome ceremonies to which it leads. The horrible scenes of old time,\nwhen the suspected body was dragged from its grave and dismembered\nby a panic-stricken and desperate mob, when the heart, as sometimes\nhappened, was torn out and boiled to shreds in vinegar, or when the\nghastly remains were burnt on a public bonfire, have certainly become\nrarer. The administrative action of the Venetians in the Ionian\nIslands in requiring proof to be furnished of the _vrykolakas\u2019_\nresuscitation, and official sanction to be obtained for exhuming and\nburning the body; the more vigorous suppression of such acts by the\nTurks in the Aegean Islands[978] and probably also on the mainland;\nthe somewhat half-hearted condemnation of the superstition by the\nGreek Church, which, as we shall see later, maintained the belief in\nthe non-decomposition of excommunicated persons and notorious sinners,\nhesitated between denying and explaining the further notion that such\npersons were liable to re-animation, but certainly endeavoured to\nrepress or to mitigate the atrocities to which that notion led; and\nat the present day the forces of law and order as represented on the\none hand by the police and on the other by modern education, the chief\nfruit of which is a desire to appear \u2018civilised\u2019 in the eyes of Europe;\nall these influences combined have certainly succeeded in reducing the\nproportions of the superstition and curtailing the excesses consequent\nupon it. Thus in some places the old practice of burning corpses which\nfail to decompose within the normal period--and it must be remembered\nthat exhumation after three years\u2019 burial is an established rite of the\nChurch in Greece--has been definitely superseded by milder expedients.\nIn Scyros the body is carried round to forty churches in turn and is\nthen re-interred, while in parts of Crete, in Cythnos[979], and, I\nbelieve, in some other Aegean Islands the custom is to transfer the\nbody to a grave in some uninhabited islet, whence its return is barred\nby the intervening salt water.\n\nNone the less the superstition itself still holds a firm place among\nthe traditional beliefs of modern Greece. Witness the following account\nof it from a history[980] of the district of Sphaki\u00e1 in Crete written\nby the head of a monastery there and published in 1888:\n\n\u2018It is popularly believed that most of the dead, those who have\nlived bad lives or who have been excommunicated by some priest (or,\nworse still, by seven priests together, \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f11\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03ac\u03c0\u03b1\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd[981]) become\n_vrykolakes_[982]; that is to say, after the separation of the soul\nfrom the body there enters into the latter an evil spirit, which takes\nthe place of the soul and assumes the shape of the dead man and so is\ntransformed into a _vrykolakas_ or man-demon.\n\n\u2018In this guise it keeps the body as its dwelling-place and preserves\nit from corruption, and it runs swift as lightning wherever it lists,\nand causes men great alarms at night and strikes all with panic. And\nthe trouble is that it does not remain solitary, but makes everyone,\nwho dies while it is about, like to itself, so that in a short space\nof time it gets together a large and dangerous train of followers. The\ncommon practice of the _vrykolakes_ is to seat themselves upon those\nwho are asleep and by their enormous weight to cause an agonizing sense\nof oppression. There is great danger that the sufferer in such cases\nmay expire, and himself too be turned into a _vrykolakas_, if there\nbe not someone at hand who perceives his torment and fires off a gun,\nthereby putting the blood-thirsty monster to flight; for fortunately it\nis afraid of the report of fire-arms and retreats without effecting its\npurpose. Not a few such scenes we have witnessed with our own eyes.\n\n\u2018This monster, as time goes on, becomes more and more audacious and\nblood-thirsty, so that it is able completely to devastate whole\nvillages. On this account all possible haste is made to annihilate the\nfirst which appears before it enter upon its second period of forty\ndays[983], because by that time it becomes a merciless and invincible\ndealer of death. To this end the villagers call in priests who profess\nto know how to annihilate the monster--for a consideration. These\nimpostors proceed after service to the tomb, and if the monster be not\nfound there--for it goes to and fro molesting men--they summon it in\nauthoritative tones to enter its dwelling-place; and, as soon as it is\ncome, it is imprisoned there by virtue of some prayer and subsequently\nbreaks up. With its disruption all those who have been turned into\n_vrykolakes_ by it, wherever they may be, suffer the same lot as their\nleader.\n\n\u2018This absurd superstition is rife and vigorous throughout Crete and\nespecially in the mountainous and secluded parts of the island.\u2019\nSo too another well-informed Greek writer, who has published a series\nof monographs upon the Cyclades, says in one of them[984]:\n\n\u2018The ignorant peasant of Andros believes to this day that the corpse\ncan rise again and do him hurt; and is not this belief in _vrykolakes_\ngeneral throughout Greece?\u2019\n\nTo that question I might without hesitation answer \u2018yes,\u2019 even on the\ngrounds of my own experience only; for the places in which I have\nheard _vrykolakes_ mentioned, not merely in popular stories[985] such\nas are told everywhere, but with a very present and real sense of\ndread, include some villages on the west slopes of Mount Pelion, the\nvillage of Leonidi on the east coast of the Peloponnese, Andros, Tenos,\nSantorini, and Cephalonia.\n\nThe wide range and general prevalence of the superstition in modern\ntimes being thus established, it remains only to record a few recent\ncases in which the peasants, in defiance of law and order, have gone\nthe length of exhuming and burning the suspected body.\n\nTheodore Bent[986] states that a few months before his visit to Andros\n(somewhat over twenty years ago) the grave of a suspected _vrykolakas_\nwas opened by a priest and the body taken out, cut into shreds, and\nburnt. In January of 1895 at Manto\u00fade in Euboea a woman was believed\nto have turned _vrykolakas_ and to have caused many deaths, and\nthe peasants resolved to exhume and burn her--but it is not stated\nwhether the resolve was actually carried out[987]. In 1899, when I\nwas in Santorini, I was told that two or three years previously the\ninhabitants of Therasia had burnt a _vrykolakas_, and when I visited\nthat island the incident was not denied but the responsibility for it\nwas laid upon the people of Santorini. In 1902 there was a similar\ncase of burning at Gourzo\u00famisa near Patras[988]. These are certain and\nwell-attested instances of the continuance of the practice, and, regard\nbeing had to the secrecy which such breaches of the law necessarily\ndemand, it is not unreasonable to suppose that even now a year seldom\npasses in which some village of Greece does not disembarrass itself of\na _vrykolakas_ by the traditional means, cremation[989].\n\nOf the causes by which a man is predisposed to become a _vrykolakas_\nsome mention has already been made in the passages which have been\ncited from various writers above; but before I conclude this account\nof the superstition as it now is and has been since the seventeenth\ncentury, and proceed to analyse its composite nature, it may be\nconvenient to give a complete list of such causes. The majority of\nthese are recognised all over Greece and are familiar to every student\nof modern Greek folklore, and I shall not therefore burden this chapter\nwith references to previous writers whose observations tally exactly\nwith my own; for rarer and more local beliefs I shall of course quote\nmy authority.\n\nThe classes of persons who are most liable to become _vrykolakes_ are:\n\n(1) Those who do not receive the full and due rites of burial.\n\n(2) Those who meet with any sudden or violent death (including\nsuicides), or, in Maina[990], where the _vendetta_ is still in vogue,\nthose who having been murdered remain unavenged.\n\n(3) Children conceived or born on one of the great\nChurch-festivals[991], and children stillborn[992].\n\n(4) Those who die under a curse, especially the curse of a parent, or\none self-invoked, as in the case of a man who, in perjuring himself,\ncalls down on his own head all manner of damnation if what he says be\nfalse.\n\n(5) Those who die under the ban of the Church, that is to say,\nexcommunicate.\n\n(6) Those who die unbaptised or apostate[993].\n\n(7) Men of evil and immoral life in general, more particularly if they\nhave dealt in the blacker kinds of sorcery.\n\n(8) Those who have eaten the flesh of a sheep which was killed by a\nwolf[994].\n\n(9) Those over whose dead bodies a cat or other animal has passed[995].\n\nThe _provenance_ and the significance of these various beliefs\nconcerning the causes of vampirism will be discussed in the next\nsection.\n\n\n\u00a7 2. THE COMPOSITION OF THE SUPERSTITION. SLAVONIC, ECCLESIASTICAL, AND\nHELLENIC CONTRIBUTIONS.\n\n_Vrykolakes_ are not ghosts. Such is the first observation which I am\ncompelled to make and which the reader of the last chapter might well\nconsider superfluous. But so many Greek writers, and with them even\nBernhard Schmidt[996], have fallen into the error of comparing ancient\nghost-stories with modern tales about _vrykolakes_, without apparently\nrecognising the essential and fundamental difference between them, that\nsome insistence upon the point is necessary. That a definite and close\nrelation does indeed subsist between the ancient belief in wandering\nspirits and the modern belief in wandering corpses, I readily admit,\nand with that relation I shall deal later; but the issue before us can\nonly be kept clear by remembering that _vrykolakes_ are not ghosts.\nThere is absolute unanimity among the Greek peasants in their belief\nthat the corpse itself is the _vrykolakas_, and even the work of\nre-animating the corpse is generally credited not to the soul which\nformerly inhabited it, but to the Devil. Thus it appears that whereas\nmost peoples believe to some extent in the return of the ghosts or\nspirits of the dead, the Greeks fear rather the return of their bodies.\nIf then we can determine what part, if any, of this superstition is\ngenuinely Hellenic, we shall have gained a step in our knowledge of the\nideas popularly held in ancient Greece concerning the condition and the\nrelations of soul and body after death.\n\nThe view which I take is briefly this, that though Slavonic influence\nis very conspicuous in the modern superstition as I have described it,\nyet the whole superstition has not been transplanted root and branch\nfrom Slavonic to Greek soil, but the growth, as we now see it and as\nthe writers of the seventeenth century saw it, is the result of the\ngrafting of Slavonic branches upon an Hellenic stock; and further,\nthat before that process began the old pagan Greek element in the\nsuperstition had been modified in certain respects by ecclesiastical\ninfluence. This is the view which I propose to develop in this section;\nand my method will be to work back from the modern superstition,\nremoving first the Slavonic and then the ecclesiastical elements in it,\nand so leaving a residue of purely Hellenic belief.\n\nTo Slavonic influence is due first of all the actual word _vrykolakas_,\nthe derivation of which need not long detain us. Patriotic attempts\nhave indeed been made by Greeks to deny its Slavonic origin, the most\nplausible being that of Cora\u00ebs[997], who selecting the local form\n\u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 sought to identify it with a supposed ancient form \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03be\n(= \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03ba\u03b7, \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd), a \u2018bugbear\u2019 or \u2018hobgoblin\u2019 of some kind.\nBut there need be no hesitation in pronouncing this suggestion wrong\nand in asserting the identity of the modern Greek word with a word\nwhich runs through all the Slavonic languages. This word is in form\na compound of which the first half means \u2018wolf\u2019 and the second has\nbeen less certainly identified with _dlaka_, the \u2018hair\u2019 of a cow or\nhorse. But, however the meaning of the compound has been obtained,\nit is, in the actual usage of all Slavonic languages save one, the\nexact equivalent of our \u2018were-wolf[998].\u2019 That one exception is the\nSerbian language in which it is said to bear rather the sense of\n\u2018vampire[999].\u2019 If this is true, the reason for the transition of\nmeaning lies probably in the belief current among the Slavonic peoples\nin general that a man who has been a were-wolf in his lifetime becomes\na vampire after death[1000]. Yet in general there is no confusion of\nnomenclature. Although the depredations of the were-wolf and of the\nvampire are similar in character, the line of demarcation between the\nliving and the dead is kept clear, and the great mass of the Slavonic\npeoples apply only to the living that word from which the Greek\n_vrykolakas_ comes, and to the dead the word which we have borrowed in\nthe form \u2018vampire[1001].\u2019\n\nNow among the Greeks the latter word is almost unknown; in parts of\nMacedonia indeed where the Greek population lives in constant touch\nwith Slavonic peoples, a form \u03b2\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 or \u03b2\u03cc\u03bc\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 has been adopted and\nis used as a synonym of _vrykolakas_ in its ordinary Greek sense[1002];\nbut in Greece proper and in the Greek islands the word \u2018vampire\u2019 is, so\nfar as I can discover, absolutely non-existent, and it is _vrykolakas_\nwhich ordinarily denotes the resuscitated corpse. In discriminating\ntherefore between the Slavonic and the Greek elements in the modern\nGreek superstition it is of some importance to determine in which\nsense the Greeks originally borrowed the word _vrykolakas_ which at\nthe present day they in general employ in a different sense from that\nwhich both etymology and general Slavonic usage accord to it. Was it\noriginally borrowed in the sense of \u2018were-wolf\u2019 or in the sense of\n\u2018vampire\u2019?\n\nAmong Slavonic peoples the only one said to have transferred the\nword _vrykolakas_ from its original meaning to that of \u2018vampire\u2019 is\nthe Serbian; and the Greeks therefore, in order to have borrowed the\nword in that sense, would have had to borrow direct from the Serbian\nlanguage. But linguistic evidence renders that hypothesis untenable.\nAll the many Greek dialectic forms of the word _vrykolakas_ concur\nin showing a liquid (\u03c1 or \u03bb) in the first syllable; while Serbian\nis among the two or three Slavonic languages which have discarded\nthat liquid. It follows therefore that the Greeks borrowed the word\nfrom some Slavonic language other than Serbian, and consequently from\nsome language which used and still uses that word in the sense of\n\u2018were-wolf.\u2019\n\nFurther, there is evidence that in the Greek language itself the\nword _vrykolakas_ does even now locally and occasionally bear its\noriginal significance. This usage indeed is flatly denied by Bernhard\nSchmidt, who, having accurately distinguished the were-wolf and the\nvampire, states that \u2018the modern Greek _vrykolakas_ answers only to\nthe latter[1003].\u2019 This pronouncement however was made in the face\nof two strong pieces of independent evidence to the contrary, which\nSchmidt notices and dismisses in a footnote[1004]. The first witness\nis Hanush[1005], who was plainly told by a Greek of Mytilene that\nthere were two kinds of _vrykolakes_, the one kind being men already\ndead, and the other still living men who were subject to a kind of\nsomnambulism and were seen abroad particularly on moonlight nights. The\nother authority is Cyprien Robert[1006], who describes the _vrykolakes_\nof Thessaly and Epirus thus: \u2018These are living men mastered by a kind\nof somnambulism, who seized by a thirst for blood go forth at night\nfrom their shepherd\u2019s-huts, and scour the country biting and tearing\nall that they meet both man and beast.\u2019\n\nTo these two pieces of testimony--strong enough, it might be thought,\nin their mutual agreement to merit more than passing notice and\narbitrary rejection--I can add confirmation of more recent date. In\nCyprus, during excavations carried out in the spring of 1899 under\nthe auspices of the British Museum, the directors of the enterprise\nheard from their workmen several stories dealing with the detection\nof a _vrykolakas_. The outline of these stories (to which Tenos\nfurnishes many parallels[1007], though in these latter I have not\nfound the word _vrykolakas_ employed) is as follows. The inhabitants\nof a particular village, having suffered from various nocturnal\ndepredations, determine to keep watch at night for the marauder.\nHaving duly armed themselves they maintain a strict vigil, and are\nrewarded by seeing a _vrykolakas_. Thereupon one of them with gun or\nsword succeeds in inflicting a wound upon the monster, which however\nfor the nonce escapes. But the next day a man of the village, who had\nnot been among the watchers of the night, is observed to bear a wound\nexactly corresponding with that which the assailant of the _vrykolakas_\nhad dealt; and being taxed with it the man confesses himself to be a\n_vrykolakas._\n\nSimilarly on the borders of Aetolia and Acarnania, in the neighbourhood\nof Agrinion, I myself ascertained that the word _vrykolakas_ was\noccasionally applied to living persons in the sense of were-wolf,\nalthough there as elsewhere it more commonly denotes a resuscitated\ncorpse. Lycanthropy, as has been observed in a previous chapter[1008],\nis in Greece often imputed to children. In the district mentioned this\nis conspicuously the case. If one or more children in a family die\nwithout evident cause, the mother will often regard the smallest or\nweakliest of the survivors--more especially one in any way deformed\nor demented--as guilty of the brothers\u2019 or sisters\u2019 deaths, and the\nsuspect is called a _vrykolakas_. \u0395\u1f36\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u2019\u03c6\u03ac\u03b3\u03b5\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c6\u03cc \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018you are a _vrykolakas_ and have devoured your brother,\u2019 is\nthe charge hurled at the helpless infant, and ill-treatment to match is\nmeted out in the hope of deterring it from its bloodthirsty ways.\n\nIn effect from four widely separated parts of the Greek\nworld--Mytilene, Cyprus, the neighbourhood of Agrinion, and the\ndistrict of Thessaly and Epirus--comes one and the same statement, that\nto the word _vrykolakas_ is still, or has recently been, attached its\netymologically correct meaning \u2018were-wolf\u2019; and, since these isolated\nlocal usages cannot be explained otherwise than as survivals of an\nusage which was once general, they constitute a second proof that the\nGreeks originally adopted the word in the sense in which the vast\nmajority of the Slavonic races continue down to this day to employ it.\n\nBut while it is thus certain that the Greeks first learnt and acquired\nthe word _vrykolakas_ in the sense of \u2018were-wolf,\u2019 it is equally\ncertain that the main characteristics of the monster to which that name\nis now applied are those of the Slavonic \u2018vampire.\u2019 The appearance and\nthe habits of the re-animated corpse according to Slavonic superstition\ndiffer hardly at all from those described in the last chapter. Indeed\nthe question is not so much whether the Greeks are indebted to the\nSlavs in respect of this belief, as what is the extent of their\nindebtedness. Is the whole superstition a foreign importation, or is it\nonly partly alien and partly native?\n\nThe former alternative is rendered improbable in the first place by\nthe fact that the Greeks have not adopted the word \u2018vampire.\u2019 If the\nwhole idea of dead men remaining under certain conditions incorrupt\nand emerging from their graves to work havoc among living men had been\nfirst communicated to them by the Slavs, they must almost inevitably\nhave borrowed the name by which the Slavs described those men. But\nsince in fact they did not adopt the Slavonic name \u2018vampire,\u2019 it is\nprobable that they already possessed in their own language some word\nadequate to express that idea, and therefore possessed also some native\nsuperstition concerning resuscitation of the dead which Slavonic\ninfluence merely modified.\n\nFurther, there is positive evidence that such a word or words existed;\nfor there have been, and still are, dialects which employ a word of\nGreek formation in preference not merely to the word \u2018vampire,\u2019 which\nseems to be unknown in Greece proper, but even to the misapplied\nSlavonic word _vrykolakas_. Thus Leo Allatius was familiar with the\nword \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018drum-like,\u2019 but whether in his day it belonged\nespecially to his native island Chios[1009] or was still in general\nusage, he does not record. At the present day it survives only, so\nfar as I know, in Cythnos, where also \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018incorrupt,\u2019 is used\nas another synonym[1010]. From Cythera are reported three names,\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf, \u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, and \u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf[1011], evidently Greek in formation\nbut to me, I must confess, unintelligible. In Cyprus (where, as\nwe have seen, the word _vrykolakas_ may still bear its old sense\n\u2018were-wolf\u2019) the _revenant_ is named \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2[1012], because his\nswollen appearance suggests that he has \u2018put on flesh,\u2019 or more rarely\n\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2[1013], perhaps with the idea that he has become the\n\u2018genius\u2019 (\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc)[1014] of some particular locality. Again, from the\nvillage of Pyrgos in Tenos is reported the word \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2[1015]\nmeaning apparently one who \u2018sits up\u2019 in his grave. Finally, in Crete\nthe name popularly employed is \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2[1016], the origin of which is\nnot certain. Bernhard Schmidt[1017], following Kora\u00ebs[1018], derives\nit from \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 and \u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9 (= ancient Greek \u03c7\u03b1\u03cc\u03c9), \u2018lose,\u2019 \u2018destroy,\u2019 and\nwould have it mean accordingly \u2018destroyer.\u2019 I would suggest that\nderivation from \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 and the root \u03c7\u03b1\u03bd-, \u2018gape,\u2019 \u2018yawn,\u2019 is at least\nequally probable, inasmuch as other local names such as \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u2018drumlike,\u2019 and \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018fleshy,\u2019 have reference to the monster\u2019s\npersonal appearance, and the \u2018gaper\u2019 in like manner would be a name\neminently suitable to a creature among whose features are numbered\nby Leo Allatius \u2018a gaping mouth and gleaming teeth[1019].\u2019 The same\nname was some forty years ago[1020], and probably still is, used in\nRhodes, and in a Rhodian poem of the fifteenth century occurs both\nin its literal sense and as a term of abuse[1021]. This secondary\nusage however is in no way a proof that the word meant originally\n\u2018destroyer\u2019 rather than \u2018gaper\u2019; for by the fifteenth century there\ncan be little doubt that the _revenant_ was everywhere an object of\nhorror, and therefore his name, whatever it originally meant, furnished\na convenient term of vituperation. But one thing at least is clear,\nthat \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2, whichever interpretation of it be right, is certainly\na word of Greek origin no less than the others which I have enumerated.\n\nNow all these dialectic Greek names are found, it will have been\nobserved, only in certain of the Greek islands, while on the mainland\n_vrykolakas_ has come to be universally employed. But it was the\nmainland which was particularly exposed to Slavonic immigration and\ninfluence, while islands like Crete and Cyprus were practically immune.\nHence, while the mainland gradually adopted a Slavonic word, it was\nlikely enough that some of the islands should retain their own Greek\nterms, even though in the course of their relations with the mainland\nthey became acquainted also with the new Slavonic word. These insular\nnames for the _vrykolakas_ may therefore be regarded as survivals from\na pre-Slavonic period, and, though they are now merely dialectic, it is\nreasonable to suppose that one or more of them formerly held a place\nin the language of mainlanders and islanders alike. But the existence\nof such words presupposes the existence of a belief in some kind of\nresuscitated beings denoted by them. In other words, the Greeks when\nfirst brought into contact with the Slavs already possessed a belief\nin the re-animation and activity of certain dead persons, which so\nfar resembled the Slavonic belief in vampirism, that the Slavonic\nvampire could be adequately denoted by some Greek word or words already\nexisting and there was no need to adopt the Slavonic name.\n\nI claim then to have established two important points: first, that\nthe word _vrykolakas_ was originally borrowed by the Greeks from the\nSlavs in the sense of \u2018were-wolf,\u2019 though now it is almost universally\nemployed in the sense of \u2018vampire\u2019; secondly, that, whatever ideas\nconcerning vampires the Greeks may have learnt from the Slavs, they did\nnot adopt the Slavonic word \u2018vampire\u2019 but employed one of those native\nGreek words, such as \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2, which are still in local\nusage; whence it follows that some superstition anent re-animated\ncorpses existed in Greece before the coming of the Slavs.\n\nThese points being established, I am now in a position to trace the\ndevelopment of the superstition in Greece from the time of the Slavonic\nimmigrations onward, and to show how it came to pass that, whereas\nin the tenth century, let us say, when the Greeks had had ample time\nto imbibe Slavonic superstitions, _vrykolakas_ meant a \u2018were-wolf,\u2019\nand a \u2018vampire\u2019 was denoted by \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 or some other Greek word,\nnowadays _vrykolakas_ almost always means a \u2018vampire\u2019 and \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2\nis well-nigh obsolete.\n\nThe Slavs brought with them into Greece two superstitions, the\none concerning were-wolves and the other concerning vampires. The\nold Hellenic belief in lycanthropy was apparently at that time\nweak--confined perhaps to a few districts only--for the Greeks borrowed\nfrom the invaders their word _vrykolakas_ in the place of the old\n\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2[1022], by which to express the idea of a \u2018were-wolf.\u2019 They\nalso learnt the Slavonic superstition concerning vampires, but in\nthis case did not borrow the word \u2018vampire\u2019 but expressed the notion\nadequately by means of one of those words which now survive only in\ninsular dialects--adequately, I say, but not exactly. For--and here\nI must anticipate what will be proved later--the Greeks denoted by\nthose words a _revenant_ but not a vampire. They believed in the\nincorruptibility and the re-animation of certain classes of dead men,\nbut they did not impute to these _revenants_ the savagery which is\nimplied by the name \u2018vampire.\u2019 The dead who returned from their graves\nacted, it was held, as reasonable men, not as ferocious brutes. This\ndid not of course exclude the idea that a _revenant_ might return to\nseek revenge where vengeance was due; he was not necessarily peaceable;\nbut if he exacted even the life of one who had wronged him, the act of\nvengeance was reasonable. To the proof of this, as I have said, I shall\ncome later on; here I will only point out that the names which survive\nin the island-dialects are perfectly consistent with my view. Of the\nwords \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018drumlike,\u2019 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018fleshy,\u2019 \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u2018_genius_,\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018sitting up\u2019 in the grave, and, if my\ninterpretation is right, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2, \u2018gaper,\u2019 not one suggests any\ninherent ferocity in the resuscitated dead.\n\nNevertheless, when the Greeks first heard of the Slavonic \u2018vampire,\u2019\nthey naturally regarded it merely as a new and particularly vicious\nspecies of the genus _revenant_. Their own words for the genus\nimplied no idea beyond that of the resuscitation of the dead, and\nwere therefore no less applicable to the uniformly ferocious Slavonic\nvariety than to the more reasonable and human type with which they\nthemselves were familiar. They therefore did not require the word\n\u2018vampire,\u2019 but were content at first to comprise all _revenants_,\nwhatever their character, under one or other of the existing Greek\nnames.\n\nSubsequently however, it appears, a change took place. The Slavonic\nsuperstition concerning were-wolves included then, we may suppose, as\nit includes now[1023], the idea that were-wolves become after death\nvampires. The Greeks, who borrowed from the Slavs the very name of\nthe were-wolf, must therewith have learnt that these _vrykolakes_ as\nthey then called them were among the classes of men who were liable\nto vampirism; and in this particular case it would surely have seemed\nnatural to them that the _revenant_ should be conspicuous for ferocity.\nThe conduct of a reasonable being could not be expected after death\nfrom one who in his lifetime had suffered from lycanthropic mania;\nor rather, if there could be any reason in his conduct, the most\nreasonable and consistent thing would be for him to turn vampire.\n\nThus one class of _revenants_ came to be distinguished in the now\ncomposite Greek superstition by its wanton and blood-thirsty character;\nand in order to mark this distinction in speech also the Greeks, it\nwould seem, began to call one who from a were-wolf had become a genuine\nvampire by the same name after as before death, _vrykolakas_, while to\nthe more reasonable and human _revenants_ they still applied some such\nterm as \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9, \u2018drumlike.\u2019\n\nBy the seventeenth century the superstition had undergone a further\nchange, which is reflected in the usage of the word \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2. In\nproportion as the horror of real _vrykolakes_ had grown and spread, the\nvery memory of the more innocent kind of _revenants_ had faded, until\nthe genus _revenant_ was represented only by the species _vrykolakas_.\nThe word \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 was indeed still known, but Leo Allatius was\nundoubtedly following the popular usage of his time when he made it\nsynonymous with _vrykolakas_; for those narratives of the seventeenth\ncentury from which I have quoted above make it abundantly clear that\nthe common-folk had come to suspect all _revenants_ alike of predatory\npropensities.\n\nThis change in popular beliefs placed the Church in an awkward\npredicament, and was the cause of a marked divergence between the\npopular and the clerical usages of the word \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2. It had long\nbeen claimed that a sentence of excommunication was binding upon\na man even beyond death and could arrest the natural process of\ndecomposition; indeed the formula officially employed ended, as Father\nRichard of Santorini notes, with the phrase, \u2018and after death to remain\nindissoluble.\u2019 But when the fear of real vampires spread over Greece,\nthe priests would naturally have been unwilling to be held responsible\nfor the resuscitation of such pests, while they were equally unwilling\nto diminish the terrors of excommunication by omitting the final\nimprecation. Their only course therefore was to emphasize what seems\nindeed to have been always the authorised doctrine of the Church, that\nexcommunicated persons remained indeed incorrupt and \u2018drum-like,\u2019 but\nwere not, like _vrykolakes_, subject to diabolical re-animation. It is\nFather Richard\u2019s acceptance of this clerical view which explains why,\nwriting as he did some few years after Leo Allatius, he distinguished\nthe two words which Leo had treated as synonymous, making resuscitation\nthe criterion of the _vrykolakas_ and stating that the \u2018drum-like\u2019\nbody, though withheld from natural decay, lay quiet in its grave.\nBut the ecclesiastical doctrine made no impression upon the popular\nbelief; to this very day the common-folk regard any corpse which is\nfound incorrupt as a potential _vrykolakas_, and excommunication is\neverywhere numbered among the causes of vampirism.\n\nThus it has come to pass that any _revenants_ other than the savage\n_vrykolakes_ are well-nigh forgotten, and in most districts their very\nname is no longer heard. The word _vrykolakes_, which first meant\nwere-wolves, came to denote also the vampires into which were-wolves\nchanged, and gradually, as these vampires by exciting men\u2019s horror\nand concentrating on themselves the people\u2019s attention became the\npredominant class of _revenants_, ousted from the very speech of\nGreece as a whole the old Greek names for the more harmless sort, and\nestablished itself as the regular equivalent of _revenant_.\n\nSuch is my solution of the somewhat complex problem of nomenclature;\nand in presenting it I have incidentally stated my view that the\ngenuinely Greek element in the modern superstition is a belief in\nthe incorruptibility and re-appearance of dead persons under certain\nspecial conditions, and that the imported and now dominant element is\nthe Slavonic belief that the resuscitation of the dead renders them\nnecessarily predatory vampires. This I now have to prove.\n\nIt is a well-established characteristic of the Slavonic vampire that\nhis violence is directed first and foremost against his nearest of kin.\nThe same trait is so pronounced too in the modern Greek _vrykolakas_\nthat it has given rise to the proverb, \u1f41 \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03ac \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018the _vrykolakas_ begins with his own beard\u2019--a saying\nwhich carries a double meaning, so a peasant told me. It may be taken\nliterally, inasmuch as the _vrykolakas_ usually appears bald and\nbeardless; but the words \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03ac \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018his beard,\u2019 are popularly\nunderstood as a substitute, half jocose and half euphemistic, for \u03c4\u1f74\n\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03ac \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018his family.\u2019 In other words, this most deadly of pagan\npests, like the most lively of Christian virtues, begins at home.\n\nSuch being the acknowledged and even proverbial habits of the\n_vrykolakas_, nothing, it might be supposed, could be more repugnant\nand fearful to the near relations of a dead man than the possibility\nthat he would turn _vrykolakas_ and return straightway to devour\nthem. The first sufferers from such an eventuality would be the\nman\u2019s own kinsfolk, the next his acquaintances and fellow-villagers,\nbut he himself would appear to be aggressor rather than sufferer.\nNevertheless, in face of this consideration, there is no more\ncommodious form of curse in popular usage than the ejaculation of\na prayer that the person who has incurred one\u2019s displeasure may be\nwithheld from corruption after death and return from his grave. I have\nheard it extended even to a recalcitrant mule; but it is also used\ngravely by parents as an imprecation of punishment hereafter upon\nundutiful children. A few samples of this curse will not be out of\nplace, as showing at once its frequency and its range[1024].\n\n\u039d\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03c7\u03c4\u1fc7 \u1f21 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2, \u2018May the earth not receive him\u2019: \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03ac\u03b3\u1fc3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c7\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1, \u2018May the ground not consume him\u2019: \u1f21 \u03b3\u1fc6 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ae \u03c3\u03b5\n\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd\u03ad\u03c8\u1fc3[1025], \u2018May the earth not digest thee\u2019: \u1f21 \u03bc\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7 \u03b3\u1fc6 \u03bd\u03ac \u03c3\u2019\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u1fc3[1026], \u2018May the black earth spew thee up\u2019: \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u1fc3\u03c2\n\u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018Mayest thou remain incorrupt\u2019: \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ae \u03c3\u03b5 \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03c3\u1fc3 \u1f21 \u03b3\u1fc6, \u2018May the\nearth not loose thee\u2019 (i.e. not let thy body decompose): \u03bd\u03ac \u03c3\u03b5 \u03b2\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u1fc3\n\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c7\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1, \u2018May the ground reject thee\u2019: \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03ba\u03b9 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03b2\u03b3\u1fc7\u03c2[1027], \u2018Mayest\nthou become (after death) like a log (in solidity)\u2019: \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c7\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u2019\u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u2019\n\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5, \u2018May the ground spew him out\u2019--this last phrase being made more\nterrible by being a parody, as it were, of the prayer uttered by the\nmourners at every Greek funeral \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u2019\u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u2019 \u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5, \u2018May God forgive\nhim.\u2019 Such are the popular forms of the curse; and akin to them are the\necclesiastical imprecations, with which the formula of excommunication\nused to end: \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f14\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03af\u03c9\u03c2, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f31 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03c3\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c1\u03b1[1028], \u2018And after death thou shalt be bound (i.e. incorrupt)\neternally, even as stone and iron\u2019; or, in a shorter form, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70\n\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2[1029], \u2018And after death bound and\nindissoluble.\u2019 Here, it will be observed, the Church spoke only of\nincorruptibility, but several of the popular expressions contain\nexplicit mention of resuscitation as well; and the very forms of the\ncurse which I have quoted show how closely knit together, how almost\nidentical, are these two notions in the mind of the peasants. That\nwhich the earth will not \u2018receive,\u2019 she necessarily \u2018rejects\u2019; that\nwhich she does not \u2018consume\u2019 or \u2018digest,\u2019 she necessarily \u2018spews up.\u2019\nThe man whose body does not decompose is necessarily a _revenant_.\n\nNow curses, it must be remembered, among a primitive people are\nconsidered as operative, and not merely expletive; each bullet of\nmalediction deliberately aimed is expected to find its billet; each\nimprecation seriously uttered has a magical power of fulfilling itself.\nThat this belief is firmly held by the Greek folk is sufficiently\nproved by certain quaint solemnities enacted beside the deathbed. It is\na common custom[1030] for a dying man to put a handful of salt into a\nvessel of water, and when it is dissolved to sprinkle with the liquid\nall those who are present, saying, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03bb\u03c5\u032f\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03c5\u032f\u03ce\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\n\u1f91 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018As the salt dissolves, so may my curses dissolve.\u2019\nBy this ceremony all persons whom he has cursed are released from the\nbonds of an imprecation which after death he would no longer be able\nto revoke or annul. Then in turn the relations and friends formally\npronounce their forgiveness of aught that the dying man has done to\ntheir hurt. Thus pardoning and pardoned the sick man may expect a short\nand easy passing; and, if the death-struggle be prolonged, it is taken\nas a sign that some one whom he has injured has not forgiven him.\nAccordingly the friends and kinsmen, having decided among themselves\nwho the delinquent must be, send to fetch him, if he be still living,\nin order that he too may pronounce his forgiveness and so smooth the\npassage of the parting soul. If however he be dead, a portion of his\nshroud or of his ashes is brought and burnt, and the sick man, who\nneeds his forgiveness ere he can die in peace, is fumigated with the\nsmoke therefrom.\n\nSince then curses in general are regarded by the Greek folk no less\nthan by other primitive peoples as effective instruments of wrath which\nwork out their own fulfilment, the particular curses which we are\nconsidering, when they are gravely uttered, do seriously contemplate\nthe possibility of the person cursed becoming after death a _revenant_\nand are designed to bring about that future state.\n\nBut, if already at the time when such imprecations first became popular\nit had been believed that their effect was to render the corpse, whose\ndecay was arrested and whose resuscitation was assured, a wanton and\nblood-thirsty monster, preying first of all upon his nearest of kin,\nthe question of relationship or no relationship between the curser and\nthe cursed would necessarily have been taken into account.\n\nOn the one hand, where a man was in no degree akin to the object of his\nwrath, he would have welcomed the opportunity of including his enemy\u2019s\nwhole family in his vengeance by causing him to return and devour them.\nFor in Greece recrimination is wholly unsparing, and no man pretending\nto any elegance or taste in the matter of abuse could neglect to\nlevel his taunts and threats and curses at least as much against the\nrelatives--especially the female relatives--of his enemy as against\nthe man himself. Just as the tenderest blessings among the peasants\nare prayers, not for him to whom they wish well, but rather for those\nwhom he has loved and lost, so that the beggar\u2019s thanks are often \u2018May\nGod forgive your father and your mother\u2019 (which, however it may sound,\nis not intended otherwise than graciously) or again, prettier still in\nits vague genderless plural which no translation can adequately render,\n\u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u2019\u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u2019 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, \u2018May God forgive your dead,\u2019 so the\nharshest and bitterest of curses are vented, not upon the man who has\nexcited them, but upon those who are nearest and dearest to him. And\nbitterness in cursing being as much a part of the Greek character as\ngentleness in blessing, it is almost inconceivable that, if any idea\nof real vampirism had originally been associated with _revenants_,\nthe merest novice in malediction could have missed the opportunity\nof adding to his imprecations of incorruptibility and resuscitation\na prayer that his enemy might devastate with horrid carnage the home\nof those who mourned him. Yet not one of the curses which I have\nquoted above suggests any savagery to be shown by the resuscitated\nbody; not one of them hints at the blood-thirsty predatory character\nof the modern _vrykolakas_; nay, most significant of all, not one of\nthem contains the word _vrykolakas_, nor have I ever heard or found\nrecorded, so far as I can remember, any form of the curse in which that\nword appears[1031]. Now this is certainly not due to any difficulty\nof language in using the word, for there is a convenient enough verb\nformed from it, \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9, \u2018I turn vampire,\u2019 and \u03bd\u1f70 \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2,\n\u2018May you turn vampire,\u2019 should commend itself as both sonorous and\ncompendious. The reason why all mention and all thought of the ordinary\n_vrykolakas_ are lacking in these curses must rather be that, when\nthey first came into vogue, _revenants_ were not yet credited with\nthe savage character which under Slavonic influence they afterwards\nacquired; and that, when the word _vrykolakas_ was introduced, the\nold traditional forms of curse underwent no modification, but were\nbandied to and fro by boys with the same glib uniformity as by their\nfathers before them. They had been cast in set forms before the idea of\nvampirism had been introduced and when men believed only in reasonable\nand usually harmless _revenants_.\nOn the other hand, where the curser was akin to the cursed, the nearer\nthe tie of blood the more incomprehensible would be the attitude of\none who by an imprecation should recall from the grave so malignant\na thing as the modern _vrykolakas_, only to fall himself perhaps the\nfirst victim to its blood-thirstiness. If the phrase \u2018May the earth\nreject thee\u2019 had suggested anything beyond simple resuscitation,\nif there had been any resemblance in character between the Greek\n_revenant_ and the Slavonic vampire, such an imprecation would have\nbeen impossible where close kinship existed; it would at once recoil\nwith fatal force upon the curser\u2019s own head; above all, that most\nsolemn curse, the curse of parent upon child, would have been the first\nto \u2018come home to roost\u2019; and yet the use of such parental imprecations\nis both celebrated in ballad and not unknown, I am told, in actual\nexperience. Once more then the use of these curses is explicable only\non the hypothesis that the original Greek _revenants_ were not the\nformidable monsters now known as _vrykolakes_, and that, when under\nSlavonic influence the popular conception of them changed, the old\nset phrases of commination--coins, as it were, of speech, struck in\nthe mint of the original superstition--continued current in spite of\ntheir inconsistency with the new ideas. These colloquial survivals of\nthe original Greek superstition are at once a proof and a measure of\nits later contamination. The Greeks had believed in reasonable human\n_revenants_; the Slavs taught them to believe in brutish inhuman\nvampires.\n\nThis conclusion is confirmed by the ballad to which I have just\nreferred; in it a mother\u2019s imprecation recalls her son from the grave;\nthe _revenant_, who is the protagonist in a most dramatic story, is, as\nwill be seen, of the type which I claim to have been the original Greek\ntype and exhibits no Slavonic traits.\n\nThe ballad[1032], which as an important document I translate at length,\nruns as follows:\n\n    Mother with children richly blest, nine sons and one dear daughter,\n    The darling of thy heart was she, and fondly did\u2019st thou tend her;\n    For full twelve years thou guardedst her, and the sun looked not on her,\n    But in the dusk thou bathedst her, by moonlight trim\u2019dst her tresses,\n    By evening-star and morning-star her curls in order settest.\n    And lo! a message brought to thee, from Babylon a message,\n    Bidding thee wed thy child afar, afar in a strange country;\n    Eight of her brethren will it not, but Constantine doth hearken:\n    --\u2018Nay, mother, send thine Aret\u00e9, send her to that strange country,\n    That country whither I too fare, that land wherein I wander,\n    That I may find me comfort there, that I may find me lodging.\u2019\n    --\u2018Prudent art thou, my Constantine, yet ill-conceived thy counsel:\n    If there o\u2019ertake me death, my son, if there o\u2019ertake me sickness,\n    If there hap bitterness or joy, who shall go bring her to me?\u2019\n    He made the Saints his witnesses, he gave her God for surety,\n    If peradventure there come death, if haply there come sickness,\n    If there hap bitterness or joy, himself would go and bring her.\n    Now when they had sent Aret\u00e9 to wed in the strange country,\n    There came a year of heaviness, a month of God\u2019s displeasure,\n    And there befell the Pestilence, that the nine brethren perished;\n    Lone as a willow in the plain, lone, desolate their mother.\n    Over eight graves she beats her breast, o\u2019er eight makes lamentation,\n    But from the tomb of Constantine she tears the very grave-stones:\n    --\u2018Rise, I adjure thee, Constantine, \u2019tis Aret\u00e9 I long for;\n    Thou madest the Saints thy witnesses, thou gavest me God for surety,\n    If there hap bitterness or joy, thyself would\u2019st go and bring her.\u2019\n    Forth from the mound that covered him the stern adjuring drave him;\n    He takes the clouds to be his steed, the stars to be his bridle,\n    The moon for escort on his road, and goes his way to bring her.\n    He leaves the mountains in his wake, he gains the heights before him,\n    He finds her \u2019neath the moonlight fair combing her golden tresses.\n    E\u2019en from afar he bids her hail, cries from afar his message:\n    --\u2018Up, Areto\u00fala, up and come, for lo! our mother needs thee.\u2019\n    --\u2018Alack, alack, dear brother mine, what chance hath then befallen?\n    If haply \u2019tis an hour of joy, let me go don my jewels,\n    If bitterness, speak, I will come and tarry not for robing.\u2019\n    --\u2018Up, Areto\u00fala, up and come, and tarry not for robing.\u2019\n    Beside the way whereon they passed, beside the road they travelled,\n    They heard the singing of the birds, they heard the birds a-saying:\n    --\u2018Who hath e\u2019er seen a maiden fair by a dead man escorted?\u2019\n    --\u2018Didst hear, my brother Constantine, what thing the birds are saying?\n    \u201cWho hath e\u2019er seen a maiden fair by a dead man escorted?\u201d\u2019\n    --\u2018Nay, foolish birds, let them sing on, nor heed their idle chatter.\u2019\n    Anon as they went faring on, yet other birds were calling:\n    --\u2018What woeful sight is this we see, so piteous and so plaintive,\n    That lo! as comrades on their way, the dead escort the living?\u2019\n    --\u2018Didst hear, my brother Constantine, what thing the birds are saying?\n    \u201cThat lo! as comrades on their way, the dead escort the living.\u201d\u2019\n    --\u2018Nay, what are birds? let them sing on, nor heed their idle chatter.\u2019\n    --\u2018Ah, but I fear thee, brother mine, thou savourest of censing.\u2019\n    --\u2018Nay, at the chapel of Saint John we gathered yester even,\n    And the good father hallowed us with incense beyond measure.\u2019\n    And yet again as they fared on, yet other birds were crying:\n    --\u2018O God, great God omnipotent, great wonders art thou working;\n    So gracious and so fair a maid with a dead man consorting!\u2019\n    --\u2018Didst hear, my brother Constantine, what thing the birds are saying?\n    Tell me, where are those locks of thine, thy trimly-set mustachio?\u2019\n    --\u2019Twas a sore sickness fell on me, nigh unto death it brought me,\n    And spoiled me of my golden locks, my trimly-set mustachio.\u2019\n    Lo! they are come; but locked their home, the door fast barred and bolted,\n    And all the windows of their home in spider-webs enshrouded.\n    --\u2018Op\u2019n, prithee, open, mother mine, \u2019tis Aret\u00e9 thy daughter.\u2019\n    --\u2018An thou art Charon, go thy way, for I have no more children;\n    My one, my little Aret\u00e9, bides far in the strange country.\u2019\n    --\u2018Op\u2019n, prithee, open, mother mine, \u2019tis Constantine that calls thee;\n    I made the Saints my witnesses, I gave thee God for surety,\n    If there hap bitterness or joy, myself would go and bring her.\u2019\n    Scarce had she passed to ope the door, and lo! her soul passed from her.\n\nThe versions of this ballad which have been collected are very\nnumerous[1033], and some of them differ so widely from others in\nlanguage as not to have a single line in common. That which I have\nselected for translation is one of the most complete, presenting fairly\nall the essential points of the story, and free from the eccentricities\nwhich some versions have developed. At the same time it must be allowed\nthat here the mother\u2019s curse is only implied by her action of tearing\nup the gravestones and adjuring Constantine to rise, whereas in one or\ntwo versions, otherwise inferior, it is clearly and forcibly expressed.\n\nThus in one[1034] her words run:\n\n    \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03b3\u03af\u03bd\u1fc3 \u1f41 \u039a\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2, \u03bb\u03b9\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03ce\u03c3\u1fc3,\n    \u03c0\u03ce\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f08\u03c1\u03ad\u03c4\u03c9 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f08\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f7c \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f70 \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1.\n\n \u2018May Constantine become as rock, yea even as stone, and have no\n loosing (i.e. dissolution), for that he sent my Areto to a strange\n land.\u2019\n\nAnd in another[1035]:\n\n    \u1f4d\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b3\u03c5\u03b9\u03bf\u1f76 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5 \u03ba\u1fc2 \u1f41 \u039a\u03ce\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03c3\u1fc3,\n    \u1f4d\u03c0\u2019 \u1f14\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f08\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f74 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u1f70 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f70 \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1.\n\n \u2018May all my other sons have \u201cloosing\u201d and Constantine be not \u201cloosed,\u201d\n for that he let my Aret\u00e9 be taken afar to a strange country.\u2019\n\nAgain, another version[1036] ends, not with the arrival of Aret\u00e9 in\ntime to close her dying mother\u2019s eyes, but with the revoking of the\ncurse upon Constantine in gratitude for the fulfilment of his oath:\n\n    \u2018\u03bd\u1f70 \u03c3\u1f72 \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c7\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c3\u1f72 \u03c6\u03ac\u03b3\u2019 \u1f21 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c3\u2019.\u2019\n    \u1f45\u03c3\u03bf \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c3\u03ce\u03c3\u2019 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c7\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c7\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n \u2018May the earth where thou liest loose thee and thy tomb consume thee.\u2019\n Scarce had she finished her speech and he became but a handful of\n earth.\n\nClearly then the curse, which in this story is conceived as binding\nConstantine\u2019s body and driving him forth from the grave and which must\nbe revoked before his body can be loosed by natural decay, is one of\nthat class which we have been considering; but the story confers\nthe further advantage of letting us see such a curse in operation.\nConstantine is presented as a revenant, but not of the modern type;\nfor what turn must the story have taken if he had been a normal\n_vrykolakas_? His first act would have been to devour his nearest of\nkin--his mother, who was tearing up his grave-stones and cursing him:\nand his next, if he had troubled to go as far as Babylon, to make a\nlike end of Aret\u00e9. And what do we actually find? Constantine acts not\nonly as a reasonable man in seeking to allay his sister\u2019s suspicions,\nbut also as a good man in keeping his oath. He is driven forth from the\ngrave on a quest which (in most versions of the story) earns him no\nthanks from those whom he benefits; he does his weary mission and (in\nmost versions) goes back again to the cold grave from which the curse\nhad raised him. Our sympathy is engaged by Constantine no less than by\nhis mother. He too is a sufferer, first stricken down in his youth by\npestilence, and then cursed because his oath remained unfulfilled. He\nclaims our pity, and in this differs fundamentally from the ordinary\n_vrykolakas_ which could only excite our horror.\n\nFurthermore it is noteworthy that in the many versions of this\npoem, just as in the popular curses which I have quoted, the word\n_vrykolakas_ is nowhere found[1037].\n\nHence I am inclined to believe that the original poem, from which\nhave come so many modern versions, differing widely in many respects,\nbut agreeing completely in the exclusion both of the Slavonic word\n_vrykolakas_ and of all the suggestions of horror which surround it,\nwas composed in a period anterior to the intrusion of Slavonic ideas;\nand that the modern versions therefore, which prove their fidelity\nto the spirit of the original precisely by having refused admittance\nto anything Slavonic, furnish that which we are seeking, the purely\nand genuinely Greek element in the now composite superstition. That\nGreek element then is the conception of the _revenant_ as a sufferer\ndeserving even of pity, the very antithesis in character of the\nSlavonic vampire, an aggressor exciting only loathing and horror.\n\nIn the composite modern Greek superstition, as described in the\nlast chapter, the Slavonic element is clearly predominant. But the\nconclusion to which my analysis of the superstition has now led,\nexplains what would otherwise have been almost inexplicable, the\nexistence of a few stories in which the _revenant_, though called\n_vrykolakas_, is none the less represented as harmless or even amiable.\n\nOne such case is mentioned in Father Richard\u2019s narrative[1038]--the\ncase of a shoemaker in Santorini, who having turned _vrykolakas_\ncontinued to frequent his house, mend his children\u2019s shoes, draw water\nat the reservoir, and cut wood for the use of his family; and though\nit is added that the people became frightened and exhumed and burned\nhim, this was only a measure of precaution dictated by their experience\nof other _vrykolakes_; no charge was brought against this particular\n_revenant_. It might also be supposed that the _vrykolakes_ of Amorgos,\nmentioned next in the same narrative, who were seen in open day five or\nsix together in a field feeding apparently on green beans, were of the\nless noxious kind; but they may of course have been carnivorous also.\n\nAnother story, recently published[1039], records how a native of Maina,\nalso a shoemaker by trade, having turned _vrykolakas_ issued from his\ngrave every night except Saturday, resumed his work, and continued to\nlive with his wife, whose pregnancy forced her to reveal the truth\nto her neighbours. When once this was known, many accusations, it is\ntrue, were brought against the _vrykolakas_; but the story at least\nrecognises some domestic and human traits in his character.\n\nBut a much more remarkable tale[1040] is told of a field-labourer of\nSamos who was so devoted to the farmer for whom he worked, that when\nhe died he became a _vrykolakas_ and continued secretly to give his\nservices. At night he would go to the farm-buildings, take out the oxen\nfrom their stall, yoke them, and plough three acres while his master\nslept; in the daytime an equal piece of work was done by the master--so\nthat incidentally the oxen were nearly killed. The neighbours however\nhaving had their suspicions aroused by the rapidity of the work, which\nthe farmer himself could in no wise explain, kept watch one night, and\nhaving detected the _vrykolakas_ opened his grave, found him, as would\nbe expected, whole and incorrupt, and burned him.\n\nSuch stories as these testify that the old and purely Greek conception\nof _revenants_ is not quite extinct even in places where the only name\nfor them is the Slavonic word _vrykolakes_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Slavonic element in the modern superstition having been now\nremoved, it remains to consider what was the attitude of the Church\ntowards the Greek belief in _revenants_ and what effect her teaching\nhad upon it.\n\nI have already pointed out that the Jesuit, Father Richard,\ndiscriminated between _vrykolakes_ and certain bodies called \u2018drums,\u2019\nwhich were found incorrupt after many years of burial. This distinction\nhe had no doubt learnt from clergy of the Greek Church; for, while the\ncommon-folk held that those whom the earth did not receive and consume\nwere necessarily ejected by her, or, in other words, that a dead man\nwhose body did not decay was necessarily also a _revenant_, the Church\ndistinguished, as we shall see, between belief in incorruptibility and\nbelief in resuscitation, inculcating the former, and varying between\ncondonation and condemnation of the latter. These two ideas must\ntherefore be handled separately.\n\nThe incorruptibility of the body of any person bound by a curse was\nmade a definite doctrine of the Orthodox Church. In an ecclesiastical\nmanuscript, seen by Father Richard, were specifications of the\ndiscoloration and other unpleasant symptoms by which the precise\nquality of that curse--parental, episcopal, and so forth--which had\narrested the decay of a corpse might be diagnosed; and in one of the\nforms of absolution which may be read over any corpse found in such\na condition there is a clause which provides for all possible cases\nwithout requiring expert diagnosis: \u2018Yea, O Lord our God, let Thy great\nmercy and marvellous compassion prevail; and, whether this Thy servant\nlieth under curse of father or mother, or under his own imprecation,\nor did provoke one of Thy holy ministers and sustained at his hands\na bond that hath not been loosed, or did incur the most grievous ban\nof excommunication by a bishop, and through heedlessness and sloth\nobtained not pardon, pardon Thou him by the hand of me Thy sinful and\nunworthy servant; resolve Thou his body into that from which it was\nmade; and stablish his soul in the tabernacle of saints[1041].\u2019 But the\ncurse to which the Church naturally gave most prominence and attached\nmost weight was the ban of excommunication; and therefore, consistently\nwith the accepted doctrine, the formula of excommunication ended by\nsentencing the offender to remain whole and undissolved after death--a\ncondition from which the body was not freed unless and until absolution\nwas read over it and the decree of excommunication thereby rescinded.\n\nThis doctrine was held to have the authority of Christ\u2019s own\nteaching[1042]. The power which was conferred upon the apostles in\nthe words, \u2018Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth, shall be bound in\nheaven; and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth, shall be loosed in\nheaven[1043],\u2019 was believed to have been so transmitted to their\nsuccessors, the bishops[1044] of the Church, that they too had the\nfaculty of binding and loosing men\u2019s bodies--that is, of arresting\nor promoting their decomposition after death. Such an interpretation\nof the text was facilitated by the very simplicity of its wording;\nfor \u03bb\u03cd\u03c9, in modern Greek \u03bb\u03c5\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9, \u2018loose,\u2019 expresses equally well the\nideas of dissolution and of absolution, while \u03b4\u03ad\u03c9, in modern Greek\n\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9, \u2018bind,\u2019 embraces their respective opposites. A _nomocanon de\nexcommunicatis_[1045], promulgated in explanation of the fact that\nexcommunication sometimes failed to produce its expected result,\npresents clearly the authorised doctrine and at the same time\nillustrates effectively the twofold usage of the words \u2018loosing\u2019 and\n\u2018binding.\u2019\n\n\u2018Concerning excommunicated persons, the which suffer excommunication by\ntheir bishops and after death are found with their bodies \u201cnot loosed\u201d\n(\u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1).\n\n\u2018Certain persons have been justly, reasonably, and lawfully\nexcommunicated by their bishops, as transgressors of the divine law,\nand have died in the state of excommunication without amending their\nways and receiving forgiveness, and have been buried, and in a short\ntime their bodies have been found \u201cloosed\u201d (\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1) and sundered bone\nfrom bone....\n\n\u2018Now this is exceeding marvellous that he who hath been lawfully\nexcommunicated should after his death be found with his body \u201cloosed\u201d\n(\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1) and the joints thereof sundered....\u2019\n\nThis \u2018exceeding marvellous\u2019 occurrence was therefore submitted to the\nconsideration of learned divines, whose verdict was to the effect that\nany excommunicated person whose body did not remain whole had no more\nhope of salvation, because he was no longer in a state to be \u2018loosed\u2019\nand forgiven by the bishop who had excommunicated him[1046], but had\nbecome already \u2018an inheritor of everlasting torment.\u2019\n\n\u2018But,\u2019 continues the _nomocanon_ formulated by these theologians,\n\u2018they that are found excommunicate, to wit, with their bodies whole\nand \u201cnot loosed\u201d (\u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1), these stand in need of forgiveness, in order\nthat the body may attain unto freedom from the \u201cbond\u201d (\u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd) of\nexcommunication. For even as the body is found \u201cbound\u201d (\u03b4\u03b5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd)\nin the earth, so is the soul \u201cbound\u201d (\u03b4\u03b5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7) and tormented in the\nhands of the Devil. And whensoever the body receive forgiveness and be\n\u201cloosed\u201d (\u03bb\u03c5\u03b8\u1fc7) from excommunication, by power of God the soul likewise\nis freed from the hands of the Devil, and receiveth the life eternal,\nthe light that hath no evening, and the joy ineffable.\u2019\n\nThe whole doctrine of the physical results both of excommunication\nand of absolution appeared to Leo Allatius to be indisputable, and\nhe mentions[1047] several notable cases in which the truth of it\nwas demonstrated. Athanasius, Metropolitan of Imbros, is quoted\nas recording how at the request of citizens of Thasos he read the\nabsolution over several incorrupt bodies, \u2018and before the absolution\nwas even finished all the corpses were dissolved into dust.\u2019 A similar\ncase was that of a converted Turk who was subsequently excommunicated\nat Naples, and had been dead some years before he obtained absolution\nand dissolution at the hands of two Metropolitans. More remarkable\nstill was a case in which a priest, who had pronounced a sentence of\nexcommunication, afterwards turned Mohammedan, while the victim of his\ncurse, though he had died in the Christian faith, remained \u2018bound.\u2019 The\nmatter was reported to the Patriarch Raphael, and at his instance the\nTurk, though after much demur, read the absolution over the Christian\u2019s\nbody, and towards the end of the reading, \u2018the swelling of the body\nwent down, and it turned completely to dust.\u2019 The Turk thereupon\nembraced Christianity once more, and was put to death for doing so.\n\nMost graphic of all is a story attributed to one Malaxus[1048]. The\nSultan having been informed--among other evidences of the power of\nChristianity--that the bodies of the excommunicated never obtained\ndissolution till absolution was read over them, bade seek out such\nan one and absolve him. The Patriarch of the time accordingly made\nenquiries, which resulted in his hearing of a priest\u2019s widow who had\nbeen excommunicated by a predecessor, the Patriarch Gennadius. Her\nstory was that having been rebuked by him for prostitution she publicly\ncharged him with an attempt to seduce her. Gennadius had answered\nthe charge by praying aloud one Sunday in the presence of all the\nclergy, that, if her accusation were true, God would pardon her all\nher sins and give her happiness hereafter and let her body, when she\ndied, dissolve; but, if the charge were slander and calumny against\nhimself, then by the will and judgement of Almighty God he exercised\nhis power of severing her from the communion of the faithful, to remain\nunpardoned and incorruptible. Forty days afterwards she had died of\ndysentery and having been buried remained incorrupt.\n\nExhumed at the Sultan\u2019s instance the body was found to be still sound\nand whole, of a dark colour and with the skin stretched like the\nparchment of a drum. It was then removed and kept for a certain time\nunder the Sultan\u2019s seal, until the Patriarch decided to absolve it. As\nhe read the absolution the crackling of the body as it broke up could\nbe heard from within the coffin. It was then again kept for a few\ndays under the Sultan\u2019s seal, and when finally the coffin was opened\nthe body was found \u2018dissolved and decomposed, having at last obtained\nmercy.\u2019 And the Sultan was so impressed by the miracle that he is\nrecorded to have exclaimed, \u2018Certainly the Christian religion is true\nbeyond all question.\u2019\n\nSuchlike stories, together with the formula of excommunication and\nthe _nomocanon_ above quoted, prove conclusively that the Church did\nnot merely acquiesce in one part of the popular superstition but\nauthoritatively sanctioned it and utilised it for her own ends. The\nincorruptibility of the dead body under certain conditions was made an\narticle of faith and an instrument of terrorism, which, as will appear\nlater[1049], the ill-educated peasant-priests did not scruple to wield\nwidely as an incentive to baptism, a deterrent from apostasy, and a\nchallenge to repentance.\n\nThe name by which ecclesiastical writers designated a person\nwhose body was thus \u2018bound\u2019 by excommunication, was one which has\nalready been explained, \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2[1050] or, in another form,\n\u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2[1051]--swollen until the skin is as tight as a drum. This\nword, which now survives, so far as I know, only in one island, and in\nthe seventeenth century, to judge by Leo Allatius\u2019 reference to it,\nwas certainly less common than the word _vrykolakas_, had probably at\none time, before Slavonic influence was felt, belonged to the popular\nas well as to the ecclesiastical vocabulary; and it was, I suspect,\nborrowed by the Church from popular speech at the same time as she\nborrowed from popular superstition the idea of dead bodies being\n\u2018bound\u2019 and withheld from corruption by a curse.\n\nAt what date this appropriation took place I cannot determine; but\nit must certainly have been before Slavonic influence was widely\nfelt; for, when once the Greek _revenant_ had acquired the baneful\ncharacteristics of the Slavonic vampire, the clergy would surely\nnever have claimed as a new thing the power to \u2018bind\u2019 the dead by\nexcommunication, when the laity (and indeed many of their own calling\ntoo) believed that persons so \u2018bound\u2019 became rampant and ravening\n_vrykolakes_. The belief must therefore have been incorporated in\necclesiastical doctrine at a time when the Greek people spoke of the\nincorrupt dead as \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9, \u2018drumlike,\u2019 and conceived of them as\nreasonable _revenants_.\n\nThe process by which the belief came to obtain the sanction of the\nChurch is not hard to guess. The ambiguity of the words \u03bb\u03cd\u03c9, \u2018loose,\u2019\nand \u03b4\u03ad\u03c9, \u2018bind,\u2019 may well have been the starting-point. If, on the\none hand, the apostles, or the bishops who succeeded them, treated\ncertain sins as \u2018having no forgiveness neither in this world nor the\nworld to come,\u2019 and in the exercise of their power to bind and to loose\nincluded in their formula of excommunication some such phrase as Leo\nAllatius records, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018and\nafter death never to be \u201cloosed\u201d\u2019 (meaning thereby \u2018absolved\u2019); while,\non the other hand, the Greek people were hereditarily familiar with\na pagan belief that the dead bodies of persons who lay under a curse\nwere not \u2018loosed\u2019 (in the sense of \u2018dissolved\u2019); then the common-folk\nfor their part would necessarily have understood the ecclesiastical\ncurse as a sentence of \u2018non-dissolution\u2019; while the clergy would have\nbeen less than Greek if they had not seen, and more than Greek if they\nhad not seized, the handle which popular superstition gave them, and\nby adding to their accustomed formula (\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018after\ndeath never to be \u201cloosed\u201d\u2019) such apparently innocent words as \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03b1\u1f31\n\u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c1\u03b1[1052], \u2018even as stone and iron,\u2019 substituted the\nidea of \u2018dissolution\u2019 for that of \u2018absolution\u2019 and definitely committed\nthe Church to the old pagan doctrine.\n\nIf this conjecture as to the process by which the popular belief became\nan article of the Orthodox faith be correct, a further suggestion\nmay be made as to the date at which the process began. If the word\n\u2018loosing\u2019 was misunderstood by the Greeks when used in the formula\nof excommunication, it would equally have been misunderstood in the\nwords of Christ, \u2018Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth, shall be bound\nin heaven; and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth, shall be loosed in\nheaven[1053].\u2019 Was it then the knowledge that these words were commonly\nmisinterpreted by the Greeks which led the author of the fourth Gospel\nto reproduce them in a less equivocal form: \u201cWhosesoever sins ye remit,\nthey are remitted unto them; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are\nretained[1054]\u201d? This would indicate an early date indeed. Yet the date\nmatters little as compared with the main fact that the ecclesiastical\ndoctrine of the incorruptibility of excommunicated persons was at some\ntime borrowed from paganism.\n\nThe other half of the popular superstition, namely that those whose\nbodies were \u2018bound\u2019 by excommunication or otherwise, and whom the earth\ndid not \u2018receive,\u2019 were ejected by her and re-appeared as _revenants_,\ncaused the Church some embarrassment. Sometimes the alleged\nresuscitation of such persons was condemned as a mere hallucination of\ntimorous and superstitious minds; at other times it was accepted as a\nfact and explained as a work of the Devil designed to lead men astray,\nand acting upon this idea the clergy often lent their services to\nabsolve and to dissolve the suspected corpse.\n\nLeo Allatius[1055] reflects both these views and shows their effect\nupon the conduct of the clergy. After describing the actual appearance\nof such bodies, which gained for them the name \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9, \u2018drumlike,\u2019\nhe introduces the second half of the superstition by saying that into\nsuch bodies the devil enters, and issuing from the tomb goes about\nworking all manner of destruction; and he adds that when the body is\nexhumed, \u2018the priests recite prayers, and the body is thrown on a\nburning pyre; before the supplications are finished, the joints of the\nbody gradually fall apart, and all the remains are burnt to ashes.\u2019 Yet\nshortly afterwards he states, \u2018This belief is not of fresh and recent\ngrowth in Greece; in ancient and modern times alike men of piety who\nhave received the confessions of Christians have tried to root it out\nof the popular mind.\u2019 There is a clear contrast between the conduct\nof \u2018the priests\u2019 in one passage and that of the \u2018men of piety\u2019 in the\nother. The clergy did not as a body adopt a single and consistent\nattitude towards the popular superstition.\n\nSimilar inconsistency marks the _nomocanon_ concerning _vrykolakes_,\nfrom which I have given selections along with the rest of Leo\u2019s account\nin the last section; these passages, for convenience of reference, are\nhere repeated:\n\n\u2018Concerning a dead man, if such be found whole and incorrupt, the which\nthey call _vrykolakas_...\n\n\u2018It is impossible that a dead man become a _vrykolakas_ save it be\nthat the Devil, wishing to delude some that they may do things unmeet\nand incur the wrath of God, maketh these portents and oft-times at\nnight _causeth men to imagine_ that the dead man whom they knew before\ncometh and speaketh with them, and in their dreams too they see\nvisions. Other times they see him in the road, walking or standing\nstill, and, more than this, he even throttles men.\n\n\u2018Then there is a commotion and they run to the grave and dig to see the\nremains of the man ... and the dead man--one who has long been dead and\nburied--_appears to them_ to have flesh and blood and nails and hair\n... and they collect wood and set fire to it and burn the body and do\naway with it altogether....\u2019\n\nThen, after denying again the reality of such things which exist \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70\n\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03bd, _in imagination only_, the _nomocanon_ continues:\n\n\u2018But know that _when such remains be found_, the which, as we have\nsaid, is a work of the Devil, ye must summon the priests to chant an\ninvocation of the Mother of God, ... and _to perform memorial services\nfor the dead_ with funeral meats.\u2019\n\nThe self-contradiction of the pronouncement is exposed in the phrases\nwhich I have italicised. Clearly if such remains are found and the\ndead man is so affected by the work of the Devil that special services\nfor his repose[1056] are required, the theory of hallucination is\nuntenable. But this very inconsistency of the _nomocanon_, though\naccording to Allatius it is of uncertain authorship, proves it, as\nI will show, a very valuable document of the Church\u2019s traditional\nteaching on this matter.\n\nS. Anastasius Sinaita, who became bishop of Antioch in 561 and died\nin 599, refers to _revenants_ in a passage which, literally rendered,\nruns as follows[1057]: \u2018Again it appears that devils, by means of false\nprophets who obey them and with their aid work signs and heal bodily\ndiseases to the delusion of themselves and others, present even a\ndead man as risen again, and (in his person) talk with the living, in\nimagination (\u1f10\u03bd \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u1fb3). For a devil enters into the dead body of the\nman, and moves it, presenting the dead man risen again as it were in\nanswer to the foolish prayer of the deceiver. And the evil spirit talks\nas it were in the person of the dead man with him whom he is deluding,\ntelling him such things as he himself wishes to tell and answering also\nfurther questions....\u2019\n\nIn this passage Anastasius is clearly thinking of _revenants_ called\nup by sorcerers; in his time, when the first Slavonic invaders had\nonly just entered Greece and anything like friendly intercourse\nbetween the two races was still a thing of the future, the conception\nof a real vampire was not yet known to the Greeks of Greece proper,\nmuch less to those of Antioch; and it is easy therefore to believe\nthat the calling up of harmless _revenants_ was then a recognised\ndepartment of witchcraft, which afterwards lost its attractions. The\nparticular circumstances however to which Anastasius refers are of\nminor importance; the interest of the passage lies in its inconsistency\nof thought, which results indeed in a certain confusion of language;\nfor to say that \u2018it appears that devils ... present even a dead man as\nrisen again, and talk with the living in imagination,\u2019 would be not a\nlittle obscure, if the context did not throw light upon the meaning.\nMore lucidly expressed the ideas are these: men see a dead person\napparently risen from his grave and able to talk with them; the raising\nof the dead is the work of a devil (whose _modus operandi_ is described\nin the second sentence); the talking is also done by the devil (as\nexplained in the third sentence); and finally the whole thing is an\nhallucination.\n\nHere then are the same contradictory doctrines as in the _nomocanon_;\nthe resuscitation of the dead man is the work of a devil who enters\ninto the corpse and moves it and raises it from the grave; and yet it\nis the \u2018imagination\u2019 of the men who see it which is at fault. But it\ncan be no casual coincidence that S. Anastasius in the sixth century\nand a _nomocanon_ which was quoted as authoritative in the seventeenth\nattempted to combine two incompatible doctrines concerning the\nre-appearance of the dead. Rather is it proof that from a very early\nage the Church remained halting between two opinions; and the attitude\nadopted towards the superstition by the clergy, some of whom, according\nto Leo Allatius, had long tried to root it out of the popular mind,\nwhile others rendered aid in absolving suspected corpses, naturally\nvaried according as they personally believed that _revenants_\n(including _vrykolakes_) were a figment of the people\u2019s imagination or\na real work of the Devil.\n\nNow of these two ecclesiastical views, which are really alternative\nand incompatible although attempts were made to combine them, the\nformer has clearly had little or no effect upon the people; in spite\nof the efforts of the \u2018men of piety who received the confessions\nof Christians[1058]\u2019 to extirpate the superstition, it remains\nvigorous, as we have seen, down to this day. But the explanation of\nthe phenomenon as a work of the Devil was readily entertained; even\neducated men were convinced of it. \u2018It is the height of folly,\u2019 says\nLeo Allatius, speaking for himself, \u2018to deny altogether that such\nbodies are sometimes found incorrupt in the graves, and that by use of\nthem the Devil, if God permit him, devises horrible plans to the hurt\nof the human race\u2019; and similarly Father Richard opens his account of\n_vrykolakes_ with the statement that the Devil sometimes works by means\nof dead bodies which he preserves in their entirety and re-animates.\nAs for the common-folk, the explanation accorded so well with the\ndiabolical characteristics of the _vrykolakas_ that they could hardly\nhave failed to accept it.\n\nThe popularisation of this view is well illustrated by a local\ninterpretation set upon a custom which I have already discussed, the\nso-called custom of \u2018Charon\u2019s obol.\u2019 I have shown that the practice\nof placing a coin or other object in the mouth of the dead continues\ndown to the present day; that the classical notion, that the coin was\nintended as payment for the ferryman of the Styx, was only a temporary\nand probably local misinterpretation of the custom; and that the coin\nor other object employed was really a charm designed to prevent any\nevil spirit from entering (or possibly the soul from re-entering) the\ndead body. Now in Chios and in Rhodes this original intention has not\nbeen forgotten, and is combined with the belief in _vrykolakes_. In\nthe former island the woman who prepares the corpse for burial places\non its lips a cross of wax or cotton-stuff, and the priest also during\nthe funeral service prepares a fragment of pottery to be laid in the\nsame place by marking on it the sign of the cross and the letters I.\nX. N. K. (\u1f38\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1fb7, \u2018Jesus Christ conquers\u2019), both of them\nwith the avowed purpose of preventing any evil spirit from entering\nthe dead body and making of it a _vrykolakas_[1059]. In Rhodes a piece\nof ancient pottery, inscribed with the same words but marked with the\npentacle[1060] instead of the cross, is placed in the mouth of the\ndead for the same purpose[1061]. Clearly then in these two islands\nthis ecclesiastical view has been fully accepted by the people; and\nwhat I can illustrate by customs in these cases I know to be equally\ntrue of Greece in general. Whenever an explanation is sought of the\nresuscitation of the dead, the answer, if any be forthcoming, lays the\nresponsibility for it on the Devil.\n\nThis opinion, as I have said, is abundantly justified by the conduct\nof modern _vrykolakes_; but I am inclined to think that it was\nheld also, by the Church at any rate, in the pre-Slavonic age when\n_revenants_ were of a less diabolical character. The actual practice of\nexcommunication was thought to have been instituted by St Paul[1062],\nwho twice speaks of \u2018delivering persons unto Satan[1063].\u2019 The early\necclesiastical interpretation of this phrase is clearly given by\nTheodoretus[1064]; commenting upon the sentence, \u201cTo deliver such an\none unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may\nbe saved in the day of the Lord Jesus,\u201d he draws special attention\nto the fact that the body, and not the soul, is to be subjected to\ndiabolic affliction, and then adds, \u2018We are taught by this, that those\nwho are excommunicated, that is to say, severed from the body of the\nChurch, will be assailed by the devil when he finds them void of\ngrace.\u2019 In other words, the bodily punishment inflicted by the act of\nexcommunication was \u2018possession\u2019 by the devil.\n\nNow Theodoretus, it is true, says nothing in this passage as to the\ncontinuance of the punishment after death. But clearly if demoniacal\npossession was the effect of excommunication, and if also, as we have\nseen, the sentence of excommunication remained valid after death, it\nmust have followed that the dead body no less than the living body was\npossessed of the devil; and if the devil in possession of the corpse\nchose to agitate it and drive it out of the grave, the dead demoniac\nwas at once a _revenant_.\n\nThere is therefore some probability that, though the Church never\nthreatened the excommunicated with resuscitation but only with\nincorruptibility, she may at a very early date have offered this\nexplanation of their alleged re-appearance; and the theory of\ndiabolical agency may have gained popular approval from the first; for\nresuscitation was originally viewed by the Greek people as a calamity\nbefalling the dead man, not as a source of danger to the living;\nand therefore an ecclesiastical doctrine, that it was by delivering\nan offender unto Satan that the curse of the Church rendered him a\n_revenant_, would have been felt to be a perfectly satisfactory, if\nnovel, explanation of the process by which a known cause, imprecation,\nproduced its known effect, resuscitation.\n\nBut, whatever the date at which the theory of diabolical possession\nwas first developed and disseminated, the Church, and the Church only,\nwas responsible for it. The Devil is a Christian conception, just as\nthe vampire is Slavonic. Both must go, if the modern superstition is\nto be stripped of its accretions, and the genuinely Hellenic elements\ndiscovered. What then remains? Simply the belief that the bodies of\ncertain classes of persons did not decay away in their graves but\nreturned therefrom, and the feeling that such persons were sufferers\ndeserving of pity. What then were the classes of persons so affected,\naccording to the original Greek superstition?\n\nThe classes now regarded as liable to become _vrykolakes_ were\nenumerated at the end of the last section. But both Slavonic and\nChristian influences have been felt here, as in the rest of the\nsuperstition. I must therefore take those classes one by one, and\nindicate the origin of each. None of them will require long discussion;\ntheir _provenance_ is in many cases self-evident.\n\n(1) Those who have not received the full and due rites of burial.\n\nHere there can be no reason for supposing any alien influence; on\nthe contrary, the high importance attached by the ancient Greeks to\nfuneral-rites is everywhere apparent. It was these which Patroclus\u2019\nspirit returned to implore; these which Antigone risked her life to\ngive. The sin of Clytemnestra culminated in that she \u2018dared to bury\nher husband without mourning or lamentation[1065]\u2019--an essential part\nof the Greek funeral; and again in historical times Lysander\u2019s honour\nwas tarnished not so much because he put to death some prisoners\nof war, but because \u2018he did not throw earth even upon their dead\nbodies[1066].\u2019 What effect such neglect was anciently believed to have\nupon the dead is a question to be considered later; but the general\nidea is plainly Hellenic.\n\n(2) Those who meet with any sudden or violent death (including\nsuicides), or, in Maina, where the vendetta is still in vogue, those\nwho having been murdered remain unavenged.\n\nThe most important element in this class is formed by those who\nhave been murdered, especially when, as in Maina, they are believed\nto return from the grave with the purpose of seeking revenge upon\ntheir murderers. Such an idea, as will be shown later, is thoroughly\nconsonant with ancient views of bloodguilt. But it appears also from\na passage of Lucian[1067] that any \u2018violent\u2019 or \u2018sudden,\u2019 as opposed\nto \u2018natural,\u2019 death was commonly held to debar the victim from rest no\nless effectually than actual murder. The whole class may therefore be\naccepted as Hellenic, and may probably be considered to have always\ncomprised all persons whose lives were cut short suddenly before their\nproper hour had come.\n\n(3) Children conceived or born on one of the great Church-festivals,\nand children still-born.\n\nThe first division of this class may be variously explained; either\nthe child may be supposed to suffer for the sin committed by its\nparents on a day when the Church enjoins continence, or else the\nnotion, that children born between Christmas and Epiphany are subject\nto lycanthropy[1068] and therefore also, according to Slavonic views,\nto vampirism, has become associated with other church-festivals\nalso. Children still-born are probably to be numbered among victims\nof \u2018sudden\u2019 death. Thus the first division, being of ecclesiastical\nor Slavonic origin, is to be set aside; the second may probably be\nincluded in a larger Hellenic class already considered; neither\ntherefore requires any further discussion.\n\n(4) Those who die under a curse, especially the curse of a parent,\nor one self-invoked, as in the case of a man who in perjuring himself\ncalls down on his own head all manner of damnation if what he says be\nfalse.\n\nThe dread which a curse, above all a parent\u2019s curse, excited in the\nancient Greeks is well known. No one can have read Aeschylus\u2019 story\nof the house of Atreus, nor followed with Sophocles the fortunes of\nOedipus and his children, without perceiving therein the working of a\ncurse that claims fulfilment and cannot be averted. The idea therefore\nhere involved is purely Hellenic.\n\n(5) Those who die under the ban of the Church, that is to say,\nexcommunicate.\n\nThis class is an ecclesiastical variety of the last.\n\n(6) Those who die unbaptised or apostate.\n\nThe apostate is of course _ipso facto_ excommunicate, even though no\nformal sentence have been pronounced against him. The unbaptised have\nprobably been included by priestcraft for purposes of intimidation;\nbaptism is commonly held to prevent children from becoming were-wolves,\nand therefore also _vrykolakes_ at death.\n\n(7) Men of evil and immoral life in general, more particularly if they\nhave dealt in the blacker kinds of sorcery.\n\nClerical influence is clearly discernible here, but is not, I think,\nresponsible for the whole idea. A story from Zacynthos[1069] records\nhow the treacherous murderer of a good man was first smitten by a\nthunderbolt so that he lost both his sight and his reason, and after\nhis death was turned by God into a _vrykolakas_ as a punishment for\nhis crime, and has so remained for a thousand years. Here, in spite of\nthe word _vrykolakas_ being used, the _revenant_ is represented, like\nConstantine in the popular ballad, as a sufferer. This idea has been\nshown to be pre-Slavonic--and incidentally it is not a little curious\nthat the story itself claims to date from a thousand years ago, when\nthis idea was only beginning to be ousted by Slavonic superstition. But\nif the idea of \u2018punishment\u2019 is old, the idea that the punishment was\nmerited by a crime must be equally old. For this reason, and for others\nwhich will be developed later, I hold that the perpetrators of certain\ndeadly sins were from early times regarded as accursed and subject to\nthe same punishment as befell those on whom a curse had actually been\ncalled down. The Church, I think, merely added to the number of those\nsins, and at the same time undertook the task of pronouncing in many\ncases the curse which they had earned.\n\n(8) Those who have eaten the flesh of a sheep which was killed by a\nwolf.\n\nThis class is purely Slavonic in origin. To become a were-wolf in\nconsequence of having eaten flesh which a wolf\u2019s fangs have infected\nwith madness is to a simple mind rational enough; and a were-wolf\nbecomes after death a vampire. Further the belief, so far as I know,\nbelongs only to Elis, one of the districts where Slavonic ascendancy\nwas most complete and continued longest.\n\n(9) Those over whose dead bodies a cat or other animal has passed.\n\nThis class also is Slavonic. The jumping of a cat over a dead\nbody is still believed by some Slavonic peoples to be a cause of\nvampirism[1070], while in Greece the idea is rare and local only.\n\nThus out of the many conditions by which, in modern belief, a man is\npredisposed to turn _vrykolakas_, only three can be genuinely Hellenic:\nfirst, lack of burial; second, a sudden or violent death; and third,\na parental or other curse, or such sin as renders a man accursed. The\n_revenant_ therefore was regarded, as we inferred also from the story\nof Constantine and Aret\u00e9, as a sufferer. His suffering might be the\nresult of pure mischance, as in the case of sudden death, or of neglect\non the part of those whose duty it was to lament and to bury him, or\nagain of some sin of his own which had merited a curse. But whether he\nwas the victim of sheer misfortune or of punishment, he was still a\nsufferer, an object to excite the pity of mankind in general, although\nin special cases, as when he had been murdered or had not received the\nlast offices of love at the hands of his kinsfolk, he might reasonably\nbe feared by those who had injured him as an avenger.\n\nSince then in the pre-Slavonic period the general feeling towards\n_revenants_ was a feeling of pity, the treatment of them in that period\nrequires investigation.\n\nStarting once more from the modern superstition, we find that the\ntreatment of _vrykolakes_ by the Greeks differs widely from that\naccorded by the Slavs to vampires. The Slavonic method is generally to\npierce the suspected corpse with a stake of aspen or whitethorn, taking\ncare to drive it right through the heart at one blow. The usual Greek\nmethod is to burn the body. The Greeks therefore, who learnt from the\nSlavs all that is most horrible in their conception of _vrykolakes_,\nnone the less thought that they knew a better way of disposing of\nthese new-found pests than that which was practised by their teachers.\nConvinced by foreign influence of the danger, they relied on a native\nmethod of obviating it. They would not impale the _vrykolakas_; they\nwould burn him. Clearly there must have been some strong conviction\nand assurance in the heart of a people who, freshly persuaded of the\nperil threatening them at the hands of so loathly and savage a monster,\nyet chose to pursue their own method of combating it rather than to\nadopt the foreign and repugnant practice of impaling the dead. That\nconviction plainly was that cremation, by ensuring the immediate and\ncomplete dissolution of the body, put an end to all relations of the\ndead with the living; and their confidence in it can only have been\nbased upon their own experience in the treatment of the Greek species\nof _revenants_. Cremation then was the means by which the Greek folk\nhad always been wont to succour those of the dead who suffered from\nincorruptibility and resuscitation.\n\nSuch a custom would not, so far as I can judge, have encountered any\nserious ecclesiastical opposition. The Church, it is true, in her\nearlier days had condemned cremation as a pagan rite, and with the\nspread of Christianity inhumation became the ordinary rite. But in the\ncase of those who, having been buried, yet returned from the grave,\nsince the Christian rite had proved of no avail, some concession to\npagan traditions would have been natural. Many of the clergy, as we\nhave seen, condoned cremation in the case of _vrykolakes_ as a measure\nof self-defence; surely they would equally have allowed it as an act of\ncharity to more innocent men to whom the earth had denied dissolution\nand death had brought no repose.\n\nThus the actual custom of burning dates from the pre-Slavonic era; it\nis only the motive of the act which is changed. Formerly men felt pity\nfor the _revenant_, and sought to promote his dissolution in order to\nrelease him from a state of suffering; now, as for some centuries past,\nmen feel only horror of the _vrykolakas_, and seek to promote his\ndissolution in order to release themselves from a state of peril. Hence\nno doubt came the more horrible barbarities occasionally inflicted on\nthe corpse; to tear out the heart, to boil it in vinegar, to tear the\nbody to shreds--these are the acts of a panic-stricken and vindictive\npeople eager to torment their foe before annihilating him. But in the\nold custom of cremation there was nothing inhumane; it was the merciful\nact of a people who had compassion upon the unquiet dead and gave to\nthem, in solicitude for their welfare, that boon of bodily dissolution\nby which alone they were finally severed from the living and admitted\nto the world of the departed.\n\n\n\u00a7 3. REVENANTS IN ANCIENT GREECE.\n\nThe Slavonic and the ecclesiastical elements have now been removed from\nthe modern Greek superstition, and the Hellenic residue is briefly\nthis: the human body sometimes remains incorruptible in the earth, and\nin this state is liable to resuscitation; persons so affected stand\nas it were halfway between the living and the dead, resembling the\nformer when they walk the earth, and the latter when they are lying\nquiet in their graves or, if unburied, elsewhere; during their periods\nof resuscitation they act as reasonable human beings, but their whole\ncondition is pitiable, and the most humane way of treating them is\nto burn their bodies; disintegration being thus secured, they return\nno more to this world, but are numbered among the departed. Further\nthe causes of such a condition are threefold--lack of burial, sudden\ndeath, and execration or deadly sin deserving of it. The only question\nwhich we have left unsolved is that of the agency by which the body is\nresuscitated. The Devil is now held responsible; but the Devil is a\nChristian, not a pagan, conception.\n\nMy purpose in the present section is, first, to verify by the aid of\nclassical literature the conclusions which have been reached, and,\nsecondly, to solve the one problem which remains.\n\nThere is, so far as I know, only one story in ancient literature which\ncontains anything like a full account of a _revenant_. This is related\nby Phlegon[1071], a freedman of Hadrian; and the narrator professes\nto have been an eye-witness of the occurrences which he describes. In\nhis story are embodied most of those very ideas which on wholly other\ngrounds have been argued to form the genuine Hellenic element in the\nmodern superstition concerning _vrykolakes_, and I shall therefore\nreproduce it at length. Unfortunately however the beginning of the\nstory is lost, and therewith possibly the cause assigned for the\nstrange conduct of the resuscitated corpse which plays the heroine\u2019s\npart.\n\nWhat remains of the story opens abruptly with a weird scene in the\nguest-chamber of the house of Demostratus and his wife Charito.\n\nTheir daughter Philinnion had been dead and buried somewhat less than\nsix months, when one evening she was observed by her old nurse in the\nguest-chamber, where a young man named Machates was lodged, to all\nappearances alive. The nurse at once ran to the girl\u2019s parents and bade\nthem come with her and see their child. Charito however was so overcome\nby the tidings that she first fainted and then wept hysterically for\nher lost daughter and finally began to abuse the old woman, calling her\nmad and ordering her out of the room; but the nurse expostulated with\nspirit, and Charito at last went with her. In the meanwhile however\nPhilinnion and her lover had retired to rest, so that when the mother\narrived she could not obtain a good view of her; but from the peep\nwhich she got of the girl\u2019s clothes and the shape of her face she\nthought that she recognised her daughter. Then, feeling that she could\nnot at that hour ascertain the truth of the matter, she decided to keep\nquiet until morning, and then to rise betimes and surprise the girl if\nstill there, or, failing that, to extort from Machates the whole truth.\n\nBut when dawn came the girl had gone away unobserved, and Charito began\nto take Machates to task, telling him the whole story and imploring\nhim to confess the truth and to keep nothing back. The young man (who\nseems to have been unaware that Charito had lost a daughter named\nPhilinnion) was much distressed, and at first would only admit that\nsuch was indeed the name of the girl whom they had seen; but afterwards\nhe told the whole story of the girl\u2019s visits to him, mentioning that\nshe had said that she came without her parents\u2019 knowledge. To confirm\nhis story, he produced the gold ring which she had given him and her\nbreast-band which she had left behind on the previous night. These\nwere at once recognised by Charito as having belonged to her daughter,\nand with a loud cry she rent her clothes and loosed her hair and threw\nherself upon the ground beside the tokens and began making lamentation\nanew. Her example was soon followed by others of the family as if in\npreparation for a funeral, and Machates, at his wits\u2019 end how to quiet\nthem, promised to let them see the girl if she should come to him again.\n\nThat night accordingly they kept watch, and at the usual hour the\ngirl came, went into Machates\u2019 room, and sat down upon the bed. The\nyoung man himself was now anxious to learn the truth; he could not\nwholly credit the supposition that it was a dead woman who had come so\nregularly, and who had eaten and drunk with him and lain at his side,\nand thought rather that the real Philinnion\u2019s tomb had been robbed\nand the booty sold to the father of the girl, whoever she might be,\nwho visited him. No sooner therefore was she come than he quietly\nsummoned the watchers. The girl\u2019s parents at once entered, and were\nfor a while dumb with astonishment at the sight of her, and then threw\ntheir arms round her with loud cries. Then said Philinnion, \u2018O my\nmother and father, it was wrong of you to grudge me three days with\nthis man here in my own home and doing no harm. And so, because of\nyour meddlesomeness, you shall mourn for me anew, and I shall go away\nagain to my appointed place. For it is by divine consent that I have\ndone thus.\u2019 Scarcely had she spoken when she became a corpse and her\nbody lay stretched upon the bed in the sight of all. Confusion and loud\nlamentation at once ensued, and before long the rumour had got about\nthe town and was reported to the narrator of the story, Phlegon, who\nappears to have held some official position. To him at any rate it fell\nto keep order during the night among the excited townsfolk, and early\nnext morning he was present at a crowded meeting in the theatre, at\nwhich it was decided to inspect first of all the family vault in which\nPhilinnion had been laid.\n\nThe vault having been opened, on all the shelves, save that\nappropriated to Philinnion, were found bodies or bones; but on hers\nthere was nothing except an iron ring belonging to Machates and a\ngilt cup--presents which she had received from him at her first\nvisit. Horror-stricken the party left the vault and went straight to\nDemostratus\u2019 house, and in the guest-chamber saw the girl stretched\nupon the floor. Thence they returned to another public assembly as\ncrowded as the first, at which one Hyllus, who was reputed not only the\nbest seer of the place but also a clever diviner[1072] and possessed of\na comprehensive knowledge of other branches of the profession, advised\nthat the girl\u2019s body should be taken outside the boundaries of the town\nand should be burnt to ashes--it was inexpedient, he said, for her to\nbe buried in the town--and that certain propitiatory rites, accompanied\nby a general purification, should be paid to Hermes Chthonios and the\nEumenides.\n\nThe strange episode ended with the acceptance of this advice by the\ntownspeople and the suicide of Machates.\n\nThis story was known to Father Richard of Santorini[1073], who\nrecognised in it an ancient case parallel to some which he himself had\nwitnessed or learnt from other eye-witnesses in his own times. Even the\nharmless character of Philinnion did not appear to him incompatible\nwith the popular conception of _vrykolakes_. Indeed, as we saw above,\nhe himself mentions, among the many instances known to him, one in\nwhich a shoemaker of Santorini, having turned _vrykolakas_, manifested\nno vicious tendencies, but rather the greatest affection and solicitude\nfor his wife and children.\n\nNor again is the incident of Philinnion\u2019s intercourse with Machates\nunparalleled in modern times. Many travellers and writers[1074] have\nconcurred in recording the belief that the _vrykolakas_ sometimes\nrevisits his widow, or does violence to other women in their husbands\u2019\nabsence, or even marries again in some place where he is unknown, and\nthat of such unions children have been born. Indeed in the Middle\nAges this belief seems to have spread even beyond the confines of\nGreece; for a Roman priest, early in the seventeenth century, sums up\nthe views of his Church on the subject as follows[1075]: \u2018Devils,\nthough incorporeal and spiritual, can take to themselves the bodies of\ndead men ... and in such bodies can have intercourse with women, as\ncommonly with _striges_[1076] and witches, and by such union can even\nbeget children.\u2019 This statement would be a fair ecclesiastical summary\nof modern Greek belief. In Thessaly I myself was told of a family in\nthe neighbourhood of Domoko, who reckoned a _vrykolakas_ among their\nancestors of the second or third generation back, and by virtue of such\nlineage inherited a special skill (such as is more commonly ascribed\nto \u03c3\u03b1\u03b2\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, \u2018men born on a Saturday,\u2019 when _vrykolakes_\nusually rest in their graves, or to \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9[1077], those who\nare in close touch with a \u2018familiar spirit,\u2019) in dealing with those\n_vrykolakes_ which from time to time troubled the country-side; indeed\nthey had been summoned, I was assured, even to remote districts for\nconsultation as specialists.\n\nThe story of Philinnion was not overlooked by Bernhard Schmidt, but he\ndoes not appear to have recognised in it anything more relevant than\nin the ancient ghost-stories (_gespenstergeschichten_) among which\nhe reckons it[1078]. Most emphatically this is no ghost-story. The\ndistinction between ghosts and Greek _revenants_ is of a primary and\nuniversal nature, patent to all who can discriminate between soul and\nbody. In this story Philinnion acts as a _revenant_ and is treated as a\n_revenant_; the inspection of the vault in which her body had been laid\nand the purpose of her nocturnal visits to Machates furnish conclusive\nevidence of her corporeal resuscitation; and the method of disposing of\nher corpse is the method generally approved and employed in the case\nof _revenants_--cremation. In effect all that remains of the story\nis in complete accord with what I have claimed on other grounds as\nthe Hellenic element in the modern superstition; only one detail is\nwanting--the cause of Philinnion\u2019s resuscitation--and if we had the\nfirst part of the story, it is not unlikely that in it we should find\nthat her early death had been also sudden or violent. Clearly then the\nbelief in _revenants_ was known in Greece in the age of Hadrian.\n\nA casual allusion to the same superstition occurs also in\nLucian[1079]. \u2018I know of a man,\u2019 says a doctor named Antigonus, \u2018who\nrose again twenty days after he was buried; I attended him after his\nresurrection as well as before his death.\u2019 \u2018But how was it,\u2019 rejoins\nanother, \u2018that in twenty days the body did not decompose or in any\ncase the man perish of hunger?\u2019 Unfortunately no answer is given and\nthe subject drops, but the man in question was clearly a corporeal\n_revenant_ and not a mere ghost.\n\nA reference to the same vulgar belief is also seemingly intended by\nAristophanes in the _Ecclesiazusae_, where the personal appearance of\none of the reprobate old women calls forth the exclamation,\n\n    \u2018Is yon an ape be-plastered with white lead,\n    Or an old hag uprisen from the dead?\u2019[1080]\n\nThe passage is of course too brief to make any such allusion certain;\nbut it becomes highly probable if it can be shown from other sources\nthat the superstition was popularly current in Aristophanes\u2019 time. This\nI can do.\n\nThe fixity of popular phrases of imprecation has been amply\ndemonstrated in the last section[1081]. A large selection of curses,\nall conceived in the same spirit, furnished, by their contrast with\nsome features of the now contaminated superstition, a clue for the\ndetection of the Slavonic elements therein. These imprecations, we\nlearnt, were based upon the purely Hellenic belief, and had remained\nunaffected by the foreign influence which had modified and in some\nrespects almost transformed it. Spoken often in a moment of passion,\nspringing spontaneously and familiarly to the lips, too hasty to be\ninformed by conscious thought, such curses have been handed down from\ngeneration to generation as fixed expressions subject to none of the\nchanges which come of deliberate reflection. Though the old beliefs\nhave been altered by the infusion of alien doctrines, the old curses\nstand fast in bold antagonism to all foreign lore, true records\nof a superstition now garbled, coins stamped with the effigy and\nsuperscription of by-gone thought, but current still.\n\nAs the simplest types of these old-established curses may be taken\nthe two phrases, \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03c7\u03c4\u1fc7 \u1f21 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2, \u2018May the earth not receive\nhim,\u2019 and \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b2\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u1fc3 \u1f21 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2, \u2018May the earth cast him out.\u2019 The one\nis negative in form, the other positive, but both equally suggest,\nin the peasant\u2019s mind, both the incorruptibility of the body and its\nresuscitation. Can a prototype of these curses be found in ancient\nliterature? If so, in view of the general continuity of Greek belief\nand custom, we shall be justified in concluding that, as those ancient\ncurses are identical with the modern, so the superstition which\nsuggested them in old time is identical with that part of the modern\nsuperstition on which they are now based.\n\nTwo examples of these curses are furnished by Euripides. In a scene\nwhere Orestes conjures his comrade Pylades to leave him and not\nto involve himself in the meditated act of vengeance, the latter\nreplies[1082], \u2018Never may the fruitful earth receive my blood, nor yet\nthe gleaming air, if ever I turn traitor to thee and save myself and\nforsake thee!\u2019 In like tone rings out Hippolytus\u2019 assertion of his\ninnocence toward his father[1083]: \u2018Now by Zeus the judge of oaths and\nby the earth beneath our feet, I swear that never have I touched thy\nmarriage-bed, nor would have willed it nor conceived the thought. May I\nverily perish without glory and without name, cityless and homeless, an\noutcast and wanderer upon the earth, yea and in death may neither sea\nnor earth receive my flesh, if I have proved false!\u2019\n\n\u2018May the earth not receive my flesh!\u2019 Such is the common burden of the\ntwo oaths; such the final chord struck by Hippolytus in that symphony\nof imprecations with which he vindicates his innocence; such too\nwould be the strongest oath by which any peasant of to-day might bind\nhimself. The very words have scarcely varied in a score of centuries;\nwho then will venture to claim that their purport is changed? Is it\nnot clear that just as in later times the Church, by incorporating the\npopular curse in her formula of excommunication, seized the weapons\nof paganism and turned them against those rebels and infidels whom\nher own direst fulminations had no power to dismay, so Euripides,\nconscious that no imaginings of his own art could suffice to excite in\nhis hearers that horror which the climax of self-execration demanded,\ndid not disdain \u2018the touchings of things common,\u2019 but turned to tragic\nuse a popular curse which then, as now, pierced home to every heart?\nIt would be strange indeed if words, which since early in the Christian\nera have continuously implied a belief in the indissolubility and\nresuscitation of those who die accursed, should be held to have borne\nsome other meaning a few centuries earlier.\n\nThus then Euripides, by the identity of his language with that of\nto-day, discovers most conspicuously his knowledge of that which\non other grounds I have shown to be the Hellenic element in the\nsuperstition concerning _vrykolakes_. But he was not alone in\nemploying it for dramatic purposes. In the pages of Sophocles too\nand of Aeschylus there are passages which only a knowledge of this\nsuperstition can adequately explain. First among these is the climax\nof that speech in which Oedipus, blind and outcast, denounces his\nundutiful son:\n\n\u2018Begone, abhorred and renounced of me thy father, thou basest villain,\nand take with thee these curses that I call down upon thee, that thou\nwin not with thy spear that land of thine own kin, nor yet return ever\nagain to the vale of Argos, but that thou and he that drave thee forth,\nsmiting and smitten, fall each by a brother\u2019s hand. Such is my curse;\nyea, and I call on Tartarus, in whose hated gloom my father lies, to\ndrive thee from his home[1084].\u2019\n\nThe last phrase of this denunciation,\n\n                    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03a4\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1ff7\u03bf\u03bd \u1f1c\u03c1\u03b5\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f65\u03c2 \u03c3\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03c3\u1fc3,\n\nis that with which I am concerned. It is an old-established difficulty.\nCommentators have translated variously \u2018to remove thee from thy home,\u2019\n\u2018to take thee away to his home,\u2019 \u2018to give thee another home\u2019; but in\neffect they are all agreed in trying to make the words refer to removal\nfrom this to the nether world, or, in one word, to death. Now even\nif the word \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03b6\u03c9 could in this context bear any of the meanings\nascribed to it, such an euphemism following upon the explicit threat\nthat Polynices should be slain by his own brother\u2019s hand would be\nan imbecile anticlimax; but I question the very possibility of the\nsupposed usage. It is true that an emigrant from one place becomes an\nimmigrant into another; but that cannot justify the interchange of\nthe two terms. Tartarus is here besought, as plainly as language can\nexpress it, to drive Polynices out, not to take him in. There can be\nonly one explanation of that prayer. Polynices\u2019 death has already been\nforetold; but his father\u2019s curse pursues him beyond death. Tartarus, in\nwhose keeping the dead should lie, is conjured to drive him forth from\nthe home of the dead, even as the peasants now pray that the earth may\ncast out those whom they hate.\n\nAnd the context shows clearly that the curse was so understood by\nPolynices. Turning to Antigone and Ismene with impassioned entreaty\nhe implores them--them at least, though all others forsake him and\nturn against him--if so be his father\u2019s cruel imprecations come to\nfulfilment and they, his sisters, ever return to their home, not to\nleave him dishonoured, but to lay him in the grave and to grant him\nthe guerdons of the dead[1085]. Why then this insistence, unless\nthe father\u2019s curse had extended beyond death? Merely to introduce\na reference to the plot of the _Antigone_? Clearly more than that.\nPolynices was to die bound by his father\u2019s curse, slain by his\nbrother\u2019s hand, doubly debarred, if modern beliefs be a key to ancient,\nfrom dissolution and from reception into the nether world. The words\nof his father\u2019s invocation of Tartarus had conveyed to his mind the\ncertainty of a doom outlasting death, that Tartarus should not receive\nhim, but reject him from the home of the dead. Only one faint gleam of\nhope was left, that by the fulfilment of those last offices of love\ntoward the departed, which were for all men a passport to the lower\nworld, he, burdened and bound with a father\u2019s curse, both slayer and\nslain of his own brother, might yet be not debarred from his last home,\nbut free to enter into rest.\n\nThus Sophocles in language less popular, but hardly less clear, than\nthat of Euripides proclaims that the belief in the non-dissolution or\nrejection of the body by the earth and the powers under the earth was\na terror as potent then as it is now, and an ever effective weapon of\nmalediction. Aeschylus had gone even further, and, by enlisting this\nterror among the threats uttered on behalf of a dead man by a god\nin his most holy sanctuary, had claimed as it were for the popular\nsuperstition the highest religious sanction.\n\nIn the _Choephori_[1086] Orestes is made to review in a speech as\ndifficult as it is powerful the motives which are urging him on to the\nrequital of blood with blood. Most cogent among these motives is the\nexplicit command issued from Apollo\u2019s Delphic shrine, bidding him not\nspare his father\u2019s murderess, mother though she be, and foretelling the\ndirest penalties for disobedience. And what are these penalties? First,\nthe physical torment of \u2018blains that leap upon the flesh and with\nsavage jaws eat out its erstwhile vigour\u2019; second, the mental horror of\ncoming madness, \u2018the arrow that flieth in darkness winged by the powers\nof hell with the curse of fallen kindred, even raving and vain terror\nborn of the night\u2019; third, banishment from home and city, with no place\nat friendly board, no part in drink-offering and sacrifice; and yet one\npenalty more wherein should culminate the threatened agonies, \u2018to die\nat last with none to honour, none to love him, damned, even in the doom\nthat wastes all, to know no corruption.\u2019\n\nOf the earlier penalties and of their intimate connexion with one\nbranch of this popular superstition I shall have occasion to speak\nlater. Here I have only to justify the new rendering which I have given\nto the last lines of the passage,\n\n    \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f04\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u1f04\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u1ff3\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bc\u03c6\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u1ff3[1087].\n\nIt has generally been held that \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 is here metaphorically\nused of the wasting or withering of the body through physical\nsuffering, the first penalty, or, it may be, through mental distress,\nthe second. In other words, the last line of the passage merely\nsums up in a concise expression a penalty, or penalties, previously\ndetailed. On the same view it is but consistent to regard \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f04\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03ba\u1f04\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd as a similar summary of the third penalty. Stripped of these\nrecapitulations and vain repetitions Apollo\u2019s final threat amounts\nto--what? \u03b8\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u1ff3, \u2018to die in course of time.\u2019 A blood-curdling\nand unique climax of human suffering in very truth! And this a last\nthreat after leprosy and madness and outcast loneliness? Surely rather\na promise of release and rest.\n\nBut let the anti-climax pass. Whence comes the alleged metaphorical\nmeaning of \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, so foreign to its normal use? How comes\nit to denote the wasting of disease, and what authority has this\nsupposed use? Its mainstay apparently is a single passage in a\npseudo-Demosthenic speech, which, in describing the cowardly assault of\na young man upon an old, depicts the aggressor as \u03bd\u03b5\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\nand his victim as \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2[1088].\nBut here the metaphor, whatever may be thought of its elegance or\nof its likelihood to excite mirth rather than indignation, is at\nleast clearly explained both by its antithesis and by its context;\n\u03bd\u03b5\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74\u03c2 and \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 are terms properly applied to \u2018fresh\u2019 fish or\nmeat, \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 to the same commodities \u2018preserved\u2019 by drying or\npickling, and we understand at once that the old man is represented\nto be dried and shrivelled in appearance. Such is the support for the\nalleged Aeschylean usage of \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 without the same antithesis\nto illuminate its meaning. Are we then to understand that all the\nfulminations and thunderings of Apollo\u2019s oracle dwindle away into an\nappeal to Orestes\u2019 pride in his personal appearance and a warning that\nleprosy will render him as unattractive as a bloater? Or, if it be\nclaimed that the slow painful process of wasting is suggested rather\nthan its ultimate effect, is it reasonable that a word which properly\ndenotes artificial preservation should be used metaphorically of\nnatural decay? This is not metaphor, but metamorphosis.\n\nLet us then abandon far-fetched explanations; let us conceive it\npossible that Aeschylus used the word in the sense which it normally\nbore in relation to the human body--\u2018preserved from corruption,\u2019 like\nthe mummies of Egypt--and further that he placed the word \u03c0\u03b1\u03bc\u03c6\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u1ff3\nin immediate juxtaposition with it in order to emphasise the more\nstrikingly the contrast between the threatened \u2018non-corruption\u2019 and\nthe ordinary \u2018wasting\u2019 powers of death. So understood, the final\npenalty presents a true climax. As the victim is to be excluded in his\nlifetime from all intercourse with the living, so in his death, by the\nwithholding of that dissolution without which there is no entrance to\nthe lower world, he is to be cut off from communion with the dead. He\nis to die with none to honour him with the rites due to the dead, none\nto love him and shed the tears that are their just meed, but even in\nthat last doom which consumes all others is damned to be withheld from\ncorruption. As \u2018Euripides the human\u2019 uses the common phrase of to-day\n\u2018May the earth not receive,\u2019 so Aeschylus the divine anticipates the\necclesiastical formula, \u2018and after death thou shalt be indissoluble.\u2019\n\nThe same contrast between the all-wasting functions of death and the\n\u2018bound\u2019 condition of the damned now becomes intelligible in two other\npassages of Aeschylus.\n\nIn the _Supplices_ the king of the Pelasgians, who is beset by the\ndaughters of Danaus with the twofold claim of kinsfolk and suppliants,\nand besought to deliver them from the lust and violence of their\npursuers, acknowledges himself in a sore strait. If he rescue his\nsuppliants, he may involve his people in war; if he refuse to\nhearken, he fears that, as a tacit accomplice in the violence and\npollution[1089] threatened, he may make to himself \u2018the God of all\ndestruction a stern Avenger ever present, an Avenger that sets not free\nthe dead even in Hades\u2019 home[1090].\u2019\n\nAgain in the _Eumenides_, when Orestes having slain his mother is no\nlonger seeking for vengeance but flying therefrom with no hope of\nsafety save in the promises of Apollo whose will he has done, the band\nof pursuing Furies, like to be presently thwarted by that god, yet\ncomfort their black hearts with the assurance of future retribution.\n\u2018Yea,\u2019 cries one, \u2018me doth Apollo vex, but Orestes shall he not redeem;\nthough he flee from me beneath the earth, there is no freeing for him,\nbut because of his blood-guiltiness he shall find another in my stead\nto visit his pollution on his head[1091].\u2019\n\nThe conception of future punishment in these two passages is clearly\nthe same. What then is meant by the fear that even the dead may not\nbe set free? and who is \u2018the God of all destruction\u2019 who is named in\nthe first passage as the author of that punishment? The answer has\nalready been found. \u2018The all-destroying, God\u2019 (\u1f41 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03ce\u03bb\u03b5\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2) is\nnone other than the \u2018all-wasting doom\u2019 (\u03c0\u03ac\u03bc\u03c6\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2) of Apollo\u2019s\noracle--Death personified instead of death abstract; and Death\u2019s\nrefusal \u2018to set free\u2019 the dead is to be interpreted in the light\nof Apollo\u2019s warning to Orestes that, if he fail in his duty to his\nmurdered sire, he will himself in death be \u2018damned to incorruption.\u2019\nThe language employed is indeed vaguer and more allusive; the word\n\u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd, \u2018to set free,\u2019 might suggest many ideas besides bodily\n\u2018freeing\u2019 or dissolution; yet it may be noticed that this is the very\nword which the above-quoted[1092] _nomocanon de excommunicatis_ uses\ninterchangeably with the more common \u03bb\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd in this very sense. Only\nfor us, who have not in our hearts the same faiths and fears quick to\nvibrate in response to each touch of religious awe, is a commentary\nneeded; for a Greek audience the suggestion contained in \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd,\nabove all in its implied contrast with \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03ce\u03bb\u03b5\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, fully sufficed.\n\nThus then we have found two passages of Euripides containing\nimprecations almost identical in form with the curses that may be heard\nfrom the lips of modern Greek peasants; we have found a similar passage\nin Sophocles which has hitherto proved a difficulty to commentators\nsimply because they have tried to pervert the meaning of the word\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03b6\u03c9, when its normal sense will make the phrase a parallel to\nthose of Euripides and of modern Greece; and finally in the _Choephori_\nof Aeschylus--here again by reading a word in its proper sense--we have\nfound religious sanction claimed for the belief which underlies these\nimprecations--the belief that the fate to be most dreaded by mankind\nafter death is incorruptibility and resuscitation.\n\nIt remains to examine the supposed causes of this dreaded fate,\nand to see whether the three causes which, when we discussed the\nmodern classes of men liable to become _vrykolakes_, appeared to be\nHellenic--namely, lack of burial, violent death, and parental or other\nexecration or any sin deserving it--actually figure as causes in\nancient Greek literature.\n\nIt will be convenient to consider the last-mentioned first.\n\nAn instance of formal execration has already been provided. No better\nexample than the curse called down by Oedipus upon his son could be\ndesired. But it was suggested above that in certain other cases, even\nwhere no actual imprecation had been uttered, men were accounted\naccursed; and indeed it would be an absurdity that a son who acted\nundutifully towards his father should fall a victim to his curse,\nbut that one, let us say, who slew his father and gave him no time to\npronounce the damning words, should go scatheless. From the earliest\ntimes, I believe, there were held to be certain deadly sins, sins\nagainst the few primitive god-given principles of right and wrong,\nwhich brought their own curse. Among these was numbered from the first\nthe murder of a kinsman. To this Hesiod[1093] adds others which were\nso regarded in his day. \u2018Equal is the guilt when one ill treateth the\nsuppliant and the stranger, or goeth up unto his brother\u2019s bed, ... or\nsinneth against orphan children and heedeth not, or chideth his old\nfather, who hath passed the gloomy gates of age, and raileth upon him\nwith hard words; against such an one verily Zeus himself is wroth,\nand at the end layeth upon him stern retribution for his unrighteous\ndeeds.\u2019 A more civilised age included all murder in the list; and later\nagain the Church seems to have extended it until \u2018transgressors of the\ndivine law\u2019 might become _ipso facto_ excommunicate and accursed.\n\nTo Aeschylus the chief of such sins was unquestionably the murder\nof a close kinsman; but other sins also, especially those involving\npollution (\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1), rendered the perpetrator liable to the same\npunishment as followed upon a formal imprecation. And this view was\nnot of Aeschylus\u2019 own invention; it must have belonged to the popular\nreligion. Otherwise it would be impossible to explain how the Greek\nChurch in the Middle Ages had come to adopt almost the same views as\nAeschylus. For what said the Church? The _nomocanon_ quoted in the last\nsection[1094] teaches that persons who \u2018have been justly, reasonably,\nand lawfully excommunicated by their bishops, as transgressors of the\ndivine law, and have died in the state of excommunication, without\namending their ways and receiving forgiveness,\u2019 may be expected to\nremain whole and incorrupt after death. But another ecclesiastical\ndocument[1095] shows clearly that a formal sentence of excommunication\nwas not essential to this result; a distinction is drawn between him\nwhose corpse appears white, showing that he was \u2018excommunicated by\nthe divine laws,\u2019 and him whose corpse is black, showing that he was\n\u2018excommunicated by a bishop.\u2019 Clearly then the Church taught that\ncertain \u2018transgressors of the divine law\u2019 might become automatically\nexcommunicate. Certain deadly sins deserved the ecclesiastical curse\nand, whether it were pronounced or not, incurred the same punishment\nafter death. The list of such sins was certainly extended by the Church\nso as to include, for example, apostasy, omission of baptism, the more\nreprehensible acts of sorcery, and suicide, which was, and still is\nsometimes, a bar to Christian burial. But at the same time the number\nof those sins which were actually left to work out their own curse was\nprobably diminished; the Church constituted herself judge, and in most\ncases formally sentenced the sinner to that punishment which the sin\nalone, without her condemnation, was popularly believed to entail. If\nthen we strip this doctrine of its ecclesiastical dress and put out of\nsight the intervention of an hierarchy arrogating to itself the office\nof binding and loosing, there remains the simple belief that certain\ntransgressors of the divine law, certain sinners of deadly sins, were\n_ipso facto_ accursed and condemned to incorruption.\n\nIs not this precisely the Aeschylean doctrine? Pelasgus, if he should\nconsent unto the violence of those suitors who sought the daughters\nof Danaus in unhallowed wedlock, if he should defy Zeus the God of\nsuppliants and set at naught those other deities at whose altar his\nkinswomen sat--would not he indeed be a transgressor of the divine\nlaw? He acknowledges it himself, and, conformably to the doctrine\nenunciated, anticipates that Death himself will turn Avenger and free\nhim not when dead. Orestes, owing to his murdered father the sacred\nduty of vengeance and expressly urged by Apollo to perform it--would\nnot he too be a transgressor of the divine law, if he should fail\nor flag in his enterprise of blood? Fitly then did Apollo threaten\nhim that after manifold troubles in life he should die damned to\nincorruption. The same Orestes, viewed now not from Apollo\u2019s standpoint\nbut from that of the Erinyes, bloodguilty with his mother\u2019s murder--had\nhe not perpetrated a deadly sin, was he not a transgressor of the\ndivine law? Rightly then may his foes exult that he shall not escape,\nbut, though he be fled from them beneath the earth, still \u2018hath\nhe no freeing.\u2019 In fine, Aeschylus agrees, save for the mediaeval\nmultiplication of deadly sins, with the doctrine of the Church; and\nthis agreement is proof that in the popular creed of Greece, from\nwhich both Aeschylus and the Church must have borrowed, the commission\nof certain sins has always involved the penalty of incorruptibility,\nwhether the curse which those sins merited had been formally pronounced\nor no. The actual source and operation of such unspoken curses will be\nconsidered in the next section.\n\nThe other two causes, lack of burial and violent death, may be\nconsidered together; for the whole trend of ancient literature in\nregard to both these calamities is the same, namely, that they caused\nthe return of the dead man\u2019s spirit--of his spirit only, be it noted,\nand not of his body. It is the ghost of Patroclus which in the\n_Iliad_[1096] appears to Achilles and demands the funeral-rites due to\nhis body; it is the ghost of Elpenor which in the _Odyssey_[1097] makes\nthe same claim upon Odysseus; it is the ghost of Polydorus which in\nthe _Hecuba_[1098] of Euripides bemoans his body cast away in the sea.\nAgain it is the ghost of Clytemnestra which in the _Eumenides_[1099]\nof Aeschylus comes seeking vengeance for her violent death; and Lucian\nin the _Philopseudes_[1100] gives special prominence to this cause of\nthe soul\u2019s unrest. \u2018Perhaps, Eucrates,\u2019 says one of the speakers in\nthe dialogue, \u2018what Tychiades means is this, that the only souls which\nwander about are those of men who met with a violent death--anyone, for\nexample, who hanged himself, or was beheaded or impaled, or departed\nthis life in any other such way--but that the souls of those who\ndied a natural death do not wander; if that is his theory, it cannot\nbe lightly dismissed.\u2019 It is needless to multiply examples[1101];\nliterary tradition, from Homer down to Lucian, is all in favour of the\nre-appearance of the soul, and not of the body, as the result of either\nlack of burial or violent death.\n\nIt is perfectly clear then that there is a considerable discrepancy\nbetween the ancient literary view and the modern popular creed. Ancient\nliterature is extremely reticent on the subject of bodily resuscitation\noccasioned solely by a violent death[1102] or by lack of burial. In\nPhlegon\u2019s story it is indeed probable that the cause of Philinnion\u2019s\nre-appearance was a violent death; but the first part of the narrative\nis missing, and no such statement is actually made.\n\nIn modern beliefs, on the contrary, there is little or no trace of\nthe idea that the dead return for these causes in purely spiritual\nform. The very conception of ghosts is weak and indefinite among the\npeasantry. I have certainly been told by peasants of cases in which\na person at the point of death has appeared, presumably in spiritual\nform, to friends at a distance; and there is a fairly common belief,\nseemingly derived from the Bible, that at Easter many of the graves\nare opened and release for a time the spirits of the dead. But it is a\nsignificant fact that there is not even a name for ghosts which cannot\nbe equally well applied to any supernatural apparitions. The thought\nof them in general seems to be nothing more definite than a vague\nuneasiness in the minds of timid women and children at that hour when\n\n                      \u2018a faint erroneous ray,\n    Glanced from the imperfect surfaces of things,\n    Flings half an image on the straining eye.\u2019\n\nThere is no fixed creed or tradition here. In an account of the\ndefinite superstitions of modern Greece ghosts are a _quantit\u00e9\nn\u00e9gligeable_.\n\nBut, while ancient literature and modern superstition are thus in\ndirect conflict on one point, they are agreed in making lack of burial\nand violent death the causes of a certain unrest on the part of the\ndead; and though the one usually attributes that unrest to the ghost,\nand the other to the corpse, their agreement in all else could not\nsurely be a mere casual coincidence; there must be a connexion to be\ndiscovered between them.\n\nThe consistency of the popular view which has obtained practically\nthroughout the Christian era has already been established. The Church\nfound the Greek people already firmly convinced that the two causes\nwhich we are considering, no less than formal execration or execrable\nsin, led to bodily incorruption and resuscitation. The only moot\npoint is what agency was held to produce the resuscitation before\nthe Church taught that it was the work of the Devil. But can equal\nconsistency be claimed for ancient literature? It has just now been\nshown that the tragedians recognised that a curse or a deadly sin led\nto the resuscitation of the body; and yet they make lack of burial\nand violent death lead rather to the re-appearance of a ghost. Why\nthen this discrimination between the effects produced by causes all of\nwhich in more recent popular belief produce the same effect? My answer\nis that popular belief in antiquity was the same as popular belief\nnow in respect of all the causes, but that literary propriety forbade\nmore than a mere verbal reference to so gross a superstition as bodily\nresuscitation. When a dead man was required in literature to re-appear,\nhe was conventionally pourtrayed as a ghost, not as a walking corpse;\nand the convention was, I think, right and necessary.\n\nFor let it be granted for a moment that the popular belief of to-day\ndates from the earliest times, and that then as now the _revenant_ was\npopularly pictured as a monster \u2018swollen and distended all over so that\nthe joints can scarcely be bent; the skin being stretched like the\nparchment of a drum, and when struck giving out the same sound.\u2019 Could\neven Homer have re-animated the dead Patroclus, with this unearthly\nghastliness added to his wounds and to his mangling by the chariot,\nand have brought him to Achilles in the darkness of the night, without\nexciting in his breast horror instead of pity and loathing for love?\nEuripides again was greatly daring when he assigned the prologue of\na tragedy to Polydorus\u2019 ghost; but even he could not have restrained\nthe unquenchable mirth of his audience, if his play had opened with\na soliloquy by an agitated corpse. Epic and dramatic propriety must\nhave demanded some refinement of so grossly material a conception. The\ncanons of drama, we know, would not allow the enactment of a murder on\nthe stage before the eyes of the spectators; would it then have been\ncompatible with the restraint of Greek art to represent the murdered\nbody as a _revenant_? Aeschylus himself, the lover of weird misbegotten\nshapes, would have recoiled from such an enterprise. But those same\ncanons did permit a verbal description of the murder; and similarly the\ntragedians permitted themselves to refer, in imprecations and suchlike,\nto the horror of bodily resuscitation.\n\nThe case then stands thus. References are, as we have seen, made by the\ntragedians to the possibility of men becoming _revenants_, whereas\nthey shrank from presenting the actuality. But the references to the\npossibility occur, chiefly at any rate, in imprecations, with the\nresult that at first sight a curse would seem to have been the only\nrecognised cause of bodily resuscitation in ancient times; whereas\nthe most famous literary examples of the actual re-appearance of the\ndead--Clytemnestra and Polydorus in tragedy, or, if we go back to\nHomer, Patroclus and Elpenor--happen to be cases in which the cause\nwas lack of burial or a violent death, with the result that literary\ntradition inclined to substitute ghosts for the corporeal _revenants_\nof the popular creed in these two cases.\n\nSuch is my explanation of the discrepancy; and the probability of\nit is warranted by three considerations--first, that Greek Tragedy\ndoes contain one or two references to the possible resuscitation of\nother than the accursed--second, that Plato modifies the popular\nnotions concerning the accursed in almost the same way that the\ntragedians modified the fate of the unburied and of those slain by\nviolence--third, that the literary tradition concerning ghosts is in\nitself inconsistent and bears the marks of arbitrary modification.\n\nThe most important reference in Tragedy occurs in the _Choephori_,\nwhere Orestes and Electra pray their murdered father to rise from\nthe grave in bodily form[1103]. This passage, together with a close\nparallel from Sophocles, will be fully discussed later[1104]. Here\nI need only point out the justification by Aeschylus of my theory\nthat the substitution of ghost for _revenant_ is a necessary literary\nconvention. He suggests verbally the possible uprising of the murdered\nAgamemnon as a _revenant_; but, when it comes to an actual presentation\nof the murdered Clytemnestra on the stage, his _dramatis persona_ is a\nghost.\n\nNext, Plato, in a well-known passage of the _Phaedo_[1105], speaks\nof the souls of dead men having actually been seen in the form of\nshadowy apparitions haunting the neighbourhood of tombs--souls, he\nexplains, which have not been fully cleansed and freed from the\nvisible material world, but still have some part therein and hence\nare themselves visible; and, he adds, these are the souls of the\nwicked, which are compelled to wander thus in punishment for their\nformer evil life. Naturally Plato of all men--and of all his works\nin the _Phaedo_--could not accept the notion that the body under any\nconditions remained incorruptible; his whole doctrine is imbued with\nhis belief that the gross and material perishes, and only the pure\nand spiritual endures. When therefore he came to utilise the popular\ndoctrine, which the tragedians had endorsed, that certain sinners\nwere condemned to incorruption, some modification of the idea was\nnecessary; and accordingly he makes the wicked to wander as ghosts, not\nas corporeal _revenants_, just as Homer and the tragedians seem to have\ndone in the case of the unburied and those who had met their death by\nviolence. Plato\u2019s extension of the literary tradition suggests that its\nearlier development had been such as I have indicated.\n\nLastly, the literary tradition, as represented by earlier writers than\nPlato, is by no means uniform. If it had been a definite religious\ndoctrine, and not merely a literary convention, that the unburied\nreturned as ghosts, the presentment of Patroclus and of Polydorus\nshould have been in all respects similar. But what do we find? Each\ncertainly appears as a ghost and asks for burial; but there the\nresemblance ends. According to Homer[1106] the spirit of Patroclus, in\ncraving burial of his body, declares that, ere that rite be performed,\nthe spirit itself cannot pass the gates of Hades but is held aloof by\nthe spirits of the other dead, and moreover that having once passed\nit can no more return to this world. According to Euripides[1107],\nfamiliar though he must have been with Homer\u2019s teaching, the spirit of\nPolydorus had passed within the gates of Hades and by permission of\nthe nether gods had returned to demand the burial of his body. Homer\u2019s\nreason for the soul\u2019s anxiety about the body\u2019s burial is none too\nconvincing in itself; for it only raises a further question: if death\nmeans the final separation of soul from body, and the lower world is\ntenanted by souls only--for so Homer at any rate teaches--why should\nthe denizens of that world make the admission of a newly-sped soul\nconditional upon the burial of the body which it had finally quitted?\nBut, what is more important, Homer\u2019s reason, such as it is, is flatly\ndisavowed by Euripides, who yet advances no reason of his own why the\nspirit of Polydorus, having once passed into Hades\u2019 halls, should have\nany further interest in its old carnal tenement. This disagreement can\nonly mean that Homer and Euripides were not following an acknowledged\ndoctrine of popular religion in representing Patroclus and Polydorus in\nthe form of ghosts; for in that case they would surely have agreed with\nthe popular doctrine, and therefore also with each other, in assigning\na reason for the ghost\u2019s interest in the burial of its discarded body.\nEither then there was no popular belief on the whole subject--which is\nincredible--or else it was such as literary propriety forbade them to\nfollow. Now if the popular belief was that the unburied appeared as\ncorporeal _revenants_, their eagerness for burial is intelligible; but\nif a ghost be substituted by literary convention for the _revenant_,\na good reason for such eagerness becomes hard to find. Hence the\ninconsequence of Homer\u2019s reason; hence the silence of Euripides.\n\nBut if, as now seems likely, the substitution of mere ghost for bodily\n_revenant_ was a literary convention, it by no means follows that\nthat convention is valueless as a guide to the popular beliefs of the\ntime. It may represent a part of those beliefs, though not the whole.\nThe established doctrines on this whole subject were not remodelled\nby the tragedians save in obedience to the laws of their art. This we\ndefinitely know; for the causes which they assign for the unrest of\nthe dead are numbered among the popularly received causes which remain\nto this day; and even the idea of physical resuscitation was retained\nand effectively utilised by them within certain limitations. Clearly\nthen they kept what they could, and only changed what they must.\nJudicious selection rather than arbitrary invention was the method by\nwhich the literary tradition was established. Since then that tradition\nuniformly speaks of the soul\u2019s return, while discrepancies only arise\nin accounting for the soul\u2019s interest in the corpse, was it perhaps\nonly in the latter respect that literary tradition parted company with\npopular belief? Did the spirit as well as the body of the dead play\nsome part in the popular superstition? Did the common-folk too hold\nthat, after the separation of soul from body at death, the soul itself\nunder certain conditions returned from its flight towards the house of\nHades--returned however not to appear alone in ghostly guise, but to\nre-animate the dead body and raise it up as a _revenant_? Was this the\npopular doctrine from which literature selected, recording the soul\u2019s\nreturn, but suppressing the re-animation of the body, and thereby\ncreating for itself the difficulty of explaining the soul\u2019s interest in\nthe body?\n\nThe hypothesis commends itself as providing at the same time an answer\nto the one question which remained unanswered in the last section. We\nsaw that, through ecclesiastical influence, Christian Greece has long\nassigned the work of resuscitating the dead to the Devil. But to whom\nor to what did pagan Greece previously assign it? Surely in the whole\nrange of Greek mythology it were hard to find any supernatural being\neither specially suited or probably condemned to such a task. The soul\nis, _prima facie_, the most appropriate and likely agent.\n\nBut there is even stronger evidence than this. The probable becomes\nproven when we turn back to the only full pagan account of a bodily\n_revenant_, the story of Philinnion. What are her words, when she is\ndiscovered by her parents? \u2018Mother and father, it was wrong of you to\ngrudge me three days with this man here in my own home and doing no\nharm. And so, because of your meddlesomeness, you shall mourn for me\nanew, and I shall go away to my appointed place. For it is by divine\nconsent that I have done thus.\u2019 And how is her threat of going away\nfulfilled? \u2018Scarce had she spoken when she became a corpse, and her\nbody lay stretched upon the bed in the sight of all.\u2019 The words \u2018I\nshall go away\u2019 were therefore intended by the writer to mean \u2018My soul\nwill go away\u2019; for the body remained. Clearly then, in the belief of\nthat age, resuscitation of the dead meant the re-animation of the body\nby the soul which had been temporarily separated from it.\n\nIn the light of this fact Plato\u2019s reference to the wandering of the\nsouls of the wicked is found to approximate more nearly to the popular\nsuperstition. Such souls, he says, have been seen in the neighbourhood\nof tombs; and they are visible because they are not cleansed and freed\nfrom the visible and material world[1108], but participate therein.\nWhat then is the particular material thing in which they participate\nand which keeps them near the tombs? Evidently the body whose\nimpurities they contracted in life, the body from which they are not\ncleansed and freed. Plato admits only participation, not re-animation;\nbut in all else he adheres to the genuine popular belief.\nThe same idea furnishes also what I believe to be the true explanation\nof the custom of the so-called \u2018Charon\u2019s obol.\u2019 The coin or other\nobject placed in the mouth of the dead was originally, I have\nargued[1109], a charm to prevent the entry of some evil spirit or the\nre-entry of the soul into the corpse. In Chios and in Rhodes, as we\nhave seen, this is the popular explanation still given--the particular\nspirit against whom the precaution is taken being, owing to Christian\ninfluence, a devil. But if, as is likely, a devil has merely been\nsubstituted for the soul, while the rest of the superstition has\nremained unchanged, it follows that the precaution was originally\ndirected against the return of the soul, and so was a means of ensuring\nbodily dissolution; for, though I cannot actually prove it, it is\nnatural to suppose that re-animation was not the result, but the cause,\nof incorruption.\n\nTo sum up, the conclusions which have been reached stand thus:--Death,\naccording to the popular religion of ancient Greece, was not a final\nseparation of body and soul; in certain cases the body remained\nincorrupt and the soul re-animated it. This condition, in which the\ndead belonged neither to this nor to the nether world, was one of\nmisery; and bodily dissolution was to be desired. Dissolution could\nin no case be properly effected without the rite of interment or\ncremation. The unburied therefore formed one class of _revenants_. But\neven due interment did not necessarily produce dissolution; a sudden or\nviolent death rendered the body incorruptible, presumably because the\nproper hour had not yet come for the soul to leave it; an imprecation\nwithheld the body from decay by its own \u2018binding\u2019 power; and finally,\nthe commission of a deadly sin, above all of murder, rendered the\nsinner subject to the same dire fate as if the curse which his sin\nmerited had actually been pronounced. The only unfailing method of\ndissolution was cremation.\n\n\n\u00a7 4. REVENANTS AS AVENGERS OF BLOOD.\n\nThe conclusions which have now been reached show, among others, the\nsomewhat surprising result, that the popular religion of Greece both\nancient and modern has always comprised the belief that both the\nmurdered and the murderer were doomed to the same unhappy lot after\ndeath. The murderer, in the class of men polluted and accursed by\nheinous sin, and his victim, in the class of those who have met with\nviolent deaths, have alike been regarded as pre-disposed to become\n_revenants_. The two facts thus simply stated constitute a problem\nwhich deserves investigation. It can be no accident that two classes\nof men, so glaringly contrasted here, should be believed to share the\nsame fate hereafter. Some relation between the two beliefs must surely\nsubsist.\n\nThe solution to which the mind naturally leaps is the idea that in some\nway retributive justice causes the murderer to be punished with the\nselfsame suffering as he has brought upon his victim; that, as blood\ncalls for blood, so the resuscitation of the murdered calls for the\nresuscitation of the murderer; that the old law, \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u2018as\na man hath wrought, so must he suffer,\u2019 is not limited to this world\nnor fully vindicated by the mere shedding of the murderer\u2019s blood, but\ndooms him to become, like his victim, a _revenant_ from the grave.\n\nSuch an explanation of the two facts before us is, it may almost be\nsaid, obviously and self-evidently right, so far as it goes; but the\nproof of its correctness is best to be obtained by going further,\nso as not merely to indicate the appropriateness of the murderer\u2019s\npunishment, but to discover also the agency whereby it is inflicted;\nfor, if it can be established that according to the popular belief it\nis the murdered man himself who, in the form of a _revenant_, plagues\nhis murderer, then the retributive character of all the murderer\u2019s\nsufferings both here and hereafter will be manifest.\n\nThe most striking testimony to the existence of such a belief is to\nbe found in a gruesome practice to which, we are told, murderers in\nold time were addicted--the practice of mutilating (\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd) the\nmurdered man by cutting off his hands and feet, and either placing\nthem under his armpits or tying them with a band (\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1) round\nhis breast. What object was had in view in so disposing of the severed\nextremities, if indeed our information as to the act itself be correct,\nremains uncertain; perhaps indeed that information amounts to nothing\nmore than a faulty conjectural interpretation of the word \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\nitself, which might equally well mean to sever the arms from the body\nat the armpit and to treat the lower limbs in similar fashion. But at\nany rate the intention of the whole act of mutilation is known and\nclear; the murderer sought to deprive his victim of the power to exact\nvengeance for his wrongs. Clearly then the vengeance apprehended was\nnot that of a disembodied spirit entreating the gods to act on its\nbehalf or appearing in visions to its surviving kinsfolk and urging\nthem to requite the murderer, but the vengeance of a bodily _revenant_\nwith feet swift to pursue and hands strong to strike. On no other\ngrounds is the mutilation of the dead body intelligible.\n\nBut if any doubt could still rest upon this interpretation of the old\ncustom, it must be finally dispersed by a consideration of the one\ninstance of the same custom known to me in modern times. This occurs\nin a story which I have already related[1110]--the story of a human\nsacrifice in Santorini at the time of the Greek War of Independence, as\nnarrated to me by an old man of the island who claimed to have himself\ntaken part in the affair. According to his narrative not only the head\nof the victim was cut off but also his hands, and in that order. Why\nthen this mutilation of the dead body? That question I put in vain to\nthe old man; he had obliged me by giving me his reminiscences, but he\nhad no intention of letting himself be cross-questioned upon them. Yet\nthe real answer is not hard to conjecture. Santorini is the most famous\nhaunt of _vrykolakes_ in the whole of Greece, and familiarity with them\nhas bred in the minds of the islanders no contempt for them, but rather\na more lively terror. Nowhere therefore is any expedient for combating\nthe powers of the _vrykolakas_ more likely to be remembered and\nadopted. Since then the human victim in the story is not represented as\na willing victim, but was evidently seized and slain by violence, his\nslayers, in performing their task, must have recognised that he would\nin all probability turn _vrykolakas_, and in their mutilation of his\ncorpse (a deed inexpressibly repugnant to Greek feeling now as in old\ntime) can only have been actuated by the hope of thus incapacitating\nthe _revenant_ for his otherwise sure and terrible vengeance.\n\nThe reason then why the murderer as well as the murdered becomes a\n_revenant_ is plain. The victim, rising from his grave in bodily\nsubstance, pursues his enemy with untiring rancour until he brings him\nto the same sorry state as that to which he himself has come.\nSuch, I venture to say, has been the conviction deep down in the hearts\nof the Greek people from the earliest times down to this day. A custom,\nwhich consists in a deliberate and sacrilegious act of mutilation,\nmore ghastly than murder itself, perpetrated upon the helpless dead,\nand which yet has continued unchanged throughout the changes and\nchances which the Greek people have undergone for more than a score of\ncenturies, can only be based upon the most immutable of superstitious\nbeliefs and dreads, and reveals more unerringly than even the whole\nliterature of Greece the fundamental ideas of the Greek people\nconcerning the avenging of blood. The murdered man in bodily shape\navenges his own wrongs.\n\nBut while the existence of this belief is thus established by the best\nevidence of all, namely the fact that men have continued to act upon\nit, the views of ancient writers on the subject of blood-guilt are not\non that account to be neglected; on the contrary, the whole literature\nbearing thereupon, and above all the story of the house of Atreus\nas told by Aeschylus, much as they have been studied, deserve fresh\nconsideration just for the very reason that our judgement of them must\nbe modified by this new fact. Starting with the knowledge of the part\nwhich the murdered man himself played according to popular belief in\nsecuring the punishment of his murderer, we are enabled more fully to\nappreciate the genius of Aeschylus in so handling a superstition which,\nlike other things primitive in Greek religion, was still venerated by\nan age which could discern its grossness, that, without either losing\nthe religious sympathies of his audience by too wide a departure from\nvenerable traditions, or offending their artistic taste by too close an\nadherence to primitive crudities, he wrought out of that material the\nfabric of the greatest of tragedies.\n\nWhat we shall find in thus studying anew some of the literature of\nthe subject is a modification of the grosser elements in the popular\nsuperstition such as the last section has already prepared us to\nexpect. We saw there how restricted was the use which the tragedians\nand others dared to make of the popular belief in corporeal _revenants_\nof any kind; we saw that dramatic propriety absolutely forbade the\nintroduction of a dead man to play a part otherwise than in the form of\na ghost; and yet more than once we found, especially as the climax of\nsome imprecation, a verbal allusion to the belief in incorruptibility\nand bodily resuscitation. And now similarly we shall see that the\ntragedians allowed themselves no greater license in dealing with\n_revenants_ in quest of vengeance than in dealing with the more\ninnocuous sort; we shall see that dramatic propriety forced them to\nfind some other agency than that of the bodily _revenant_ whereby\nthe vengeance of Agamemnon upon Clytemnestra, and of Clytemnestra\nupon Orestes, might be executed; but we shall find withal that here\nagain there are a few verbal references to the uprising of the dead\nthemselves as avengers of their own wrongs, and moreover that, though\nin the actual development of the plot they can have no part save\nonly that of a ghost, and some other avenger is made to act on their\nbehalf, yet it is they themselves who instigate and urge him to his\ntask. The bodily activity of the murdered man is suppressed, save for\nsome few hints, as a thing too gross for representation by tragic art;\nbut at the same time fidelity to old religious tradition is in a way\nmaintained by proclaiming his personal, though ghostly, activity in\ninciting and even compelling others to avenge him.\n\nThe clearest references to the bodily activity of the murdered\nman occur in precisely the same connexion in both Aeschylus and\nSophocles--in a prayer offered by Agamemnon\u2019s children at their dead\nfather\u2019s tomb. In Sophocles the occasion is that scene in which Electra\nrebukes her sister for bearing Clytemnestra\u2019s peace-offerings to\nAgamemnon\u2019s tomb--peace-offerings, be it noted, which in themselves\nimply that the dead man is still a powerful foe to his murderess--and\nbids her instead thereof join with Electra herself in laying a lock of\nhair upon the tomb; and then come the notable lines,\n\n    \u03b1\u1f30\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1, \u03b3\u1fc6\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u1fc6\n    \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03c9\u03b3\u1f78\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c7\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd[1111],\n\n\u2018and falling at his tomb beseech thou him to come from out the earth\nin his own strength a kindly helper unto us against his foes.\u2019 No one,\nI suppose, can misdoubt the emphasis which falls on \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd, \u2018his very\nself\u2019; and to the Greek mind the \u2018very self\u2019 was not a disembodied\nspirit, but a thing of flesh and bones and solid substance. Unless\nSophocles was hinting verbally at that which he durst not represent\ndramatically--the resurrection of the dead man in bodily substance as\nan avenger of his own wrongs--the word could have had no meaning for\nhis hearers.\n\nThe parallel passage in Aeschylus comes from the prayer of Orestes and\nElectra beside their father\u2019s grave[1112]. \u2018O Earth,\u2019 cries Orestes,\n\u2018send up, I pray thee, my father to watch o\u2019er my fight\u2019; and Electra\nmakes response, \u2018O Persephone, grant thou him still his body\u2019s strength\nunmarred,\u2019\n\n    \u1f66 \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c3\u03ad\u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1, \u03b4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f54\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nIt has been customary among translators and commentators to render\n\u03b5\u1f54\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd as if the second half of the compound were negligible; yet I\ncan find no instance in which the word denotes anything but beauty of\nbodily shape. Let Aeschylus\u2019 own usage of it elsewhere be the index of\nhis meaning here. The Chorus of the _Agamemnon_, musing on the fate\nof those who have fallen at Ilium, tell how in place of some there\nhave been sent home to their kin mere parcels of ashes, \u2018while others,\nabout the walls where they fell, possess sepulchres of Trojan soil, in\ncomeliness of shape unmarred\u2019--\u03bf\u1f31 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f38\u03bb\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03b3\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f54\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd[1113]. My rendering then of \u03b5\u1f54\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 is\nright and cannot be evaded. Aeschylus, like Sophocles in the preceding\npassage, lightly yet surely, by the use of a single word, hints at the\npopular belief that the murdered man may rise again in bodily form to\nwreak his own vengeance.\n\nOnce again then the tragedians have come to our aid in the unravelling\nof this superstition. From them we learnt that incorruptibility and\nresuscitation were as great a terror to their contemporaries as they\nare to the modern peasants of Greece, and that actually the same\nimprecations of that calamity were in vogue then as at this day; and\nnow again we receive from them corroboration of that which the horrible\npractice of mutilating a murdered man\u2019s corpse had already revealed,\nnamely, that some of the dead who returned from their graves were\nbelieved to go to and fro, not in mere vain and pitiable wanderings,\nbut with the fell purpose of revenging themselves upon their murderers.\n\nThe general tendency however of Greek literature, as we saw in the\nlast section, was to replace the bodily _revenant_ by a mere ghost.\nIn many cases the consequences of this literary modification were\ncomparatively small; the ghost of Polydorus for example can sustain\nthe part of pleading plaintively for burial no less effectively,\nperhaps indeed even more so, than a lusty _revenant_. But the case of\n_revenants_ bent upon vengeance was different; the consequences of\nsubstituting a mere spirit were far-reaching; the part to be played\nconsisted not in piteous words but in stern work; and for this part so\nfrail and flimsy a creature as the Greeks pictured the ghost to be was\nabsolutely unfitted. The only means of escaping from this difficulty\nwas to represent the dead man as employing some instrument or agent\nof retribution; and accordingly, where the gross popular superstition\nwould have had the murdered man emerge from his grave in bodily form\nto chase and to slay his murderer, literature in general confined the\ndead man to the unseen world and allowed him only to work by less\ndirectly personal means--sometimes by the hands of his next of kin,\nin other cases by a curse either automatically operative or executed\nby demonic agents. But it is important to observe that, whatever the\nmeans employed, literature cleaves to the old traditions, so far as\nartistic taste permits, by conceding to the murdered man the power\nof instigating the agents and controlling the instruments of his\nvengeance. His power is made spiritual instead of physical; but his\npersonal activity is still recognised; he remains the prime avenger of\nhis own wrongs.\n\nThese indirect methods of retribution must now be examined severally.\n\nAs regards the part taken by the next of kin to the murdered man in\nfurthering the work of vengeance, I find no reason to suppose that\nliterature deviated in any way from popular tradition. The idea of\nthe vendetta is essentially primitive and at the same time perfectly\nharmonious with the belief that the murdered man is capable of\nexecuting his own revenge. The acknowledged power of the dead man has\nnever in the minds of the Greek people served as an excuse for his\nkinsmen to sit idle; rather it has been an incentive to them to assist\nmore strenuously in the task of vengeance, lest they themselves also\nshould fall under the dead man\u2019s displeasure. On this point ancient\nlore and modern lore are completely agreed.\n\nThe best exponents of this view at the present day are a people who\ncan claim to be the most distinctively Hellenic inhabitants of the\nGreek mainland. The peninsula which terminates in the headland of\nTaenarum is the home of a race which is historically known to be of\nmore purely Greek descent than the inhabitants of any other district,\nand which both in physical type and in social and religious customs\nstands apart--the Maniotes. Among their customs is the vendetta, and\nthe beliefs on which it rests are in brief as follows. A man who has\nbeen murdered cannot rest in his grave until he has been avenged, but\nissues forth as a _vrykolakas_ athirst for his enemy\u2019s blood; for, in\nMaina, one who has turned _vrykolakas_ for this cause is still credited\nwith some measure of reasonableness. To secure his bodily dissolution\nand repose, it is incumbent upon the next of kin to slay the murderer\nor, at the least, some near kinsman of the murderer. Until that be\ndone, the son (to take the most common instance) lies under his dead\nfather\u2019s curse; and, if he be so craven or so unfortunate as to find no\nopportunity for vengeance, the curse under which he has lived clings to\nhim still in death, and he too becomes a _vrykolakas_.\n\nThe Maniote doctrine then amounts to this, that the murdered man rises\nfrom his grave to execute his own vengeance, which consists in bringing\nupon his murderer the same fate as he himself has suffered through his\nenemy\u2019s deed--a violent death and consequently resuscitation; but at\nthe same time he demands the assistance of his nearest kinsman, under\npain of suffering a like fate hereafter if his efforts in the cause\nof vengeance are feeble or fruitless. Thus the belief in powerful and\nvindictive _revenants_ forms the very mainspring of the vendetta.\n\nTo this view both Euripides and Aeschylus subscribe in telling the\nstory of Orestes. In the former we have the answer made by Orestes\nhimself to the tirade of Tyndareus[1114] against the vendetta: \u2018Nay,\nif by silence,\u2019 he says, \u2018I had consented unto my mother\u2019s deeds, what\nwould my dead sire have done to me? Would he not have hated me and made\nme the sport of Furies? Hath my mother these goddesses at her side to\nhelp her cause, and hath not he that was more despitefully used?\u2019[1115]\nSurely no clearer statement could be made of Orestes\u2019 apprehension\nthat, if he should fail in the duty which his dead father imposed\nupon him, the dead man would turn other ministers of his vengeance\nupon his cowardly son, to plague him, as if he were an accomplice,\nwith the same punishment as had been designed for the actual author of\nthe murder. And similarly in Aeschylus we have the retort of Orestes\nto his mother\u2019s last warning before he slays her. \u2018Beware,\u2019 she says,\n\u2018the fiends thy mother\u2019s wrath shall rouse\u2019; and he answers, \u2018But, an\nI flag, how should I \u2019scape my sire\u2019s?\u2019[1116] Thus according to the\nancient tragedians the vendetta of Orestes was prompted by the same\nbeliefs and fears as still stir the Maniotes thereto.\n\nSo far then as concerns the vengeance for Agamemnon\u2019s death, ancient\ndrama added no new element to the popular beliefs, but was able to\nsatisfy the requirements of art by judicious selection from them. The\nidea, to which the Maniotes still cling, that the murdered man in the\nform of a _revenant_ avenges his own wrongs, is, save for the rare\nverbal allusions which we have noticed, rejected, and forms no part\nof the plot; but the belief, that fear of the dead man\u2019s wrath is a\ncogent motive to action on the part of his kinsman, is retained. And\nhere it is interesting to observe that Aeschylus even justifies his\nrejection of the first half of the popular doctrine, and that too\nby a plea perfectly satisfactory to the popular mind. Agamemnon\u2019s\ncase was peculiar. Not only had he been murdered, but his dead body\naccording to Aeschylus, who is followed in this by Sophocles[1117],\nhad been mutilated (\u1f10\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7) by his murderers. The effect of such\nmutilation, as we have seen, was to render the _revenant_ powerless\nto wreak vengeance with his own hands. Hence the work devolving upon\nOrestes would have been, in popular esteem, doubled; if murder alone\nhad been committed, he would have worked in conjunction, as it were,\nwith the dead man; but the super-added mutilation incapacitated the\ndead man for bodily work, and placed the whole burden of retribution\non the shoulders of his son. This, plainly put, is the meaning of the\nwords spoken by the Chorus in the _Choephori_ to Orestes: \u2018Yea, and\nhe was mutilated, for thou must know the worst. Cruel was she in the\nslaying of him, cruel still in the burial, in that she thought to\nmake his doom a burden past bearing upon thy life[1118].\u2019 Thus it may\nbe claimed that Aeschylus, in the peculiar conditions of the case\nwhich he here presents, follows unswervingly the popular doctrine. It\nis only Euripides who can fairly be said to have really suppressed\nanything in this part of the story without troubling to justify himself\nby the circumstances of Agamemnon\u2019s fate. But even Euripides, though\nhe simply ignores in his plot the possibility of Agamemnon\u2019s bodily\nresuscitation, is faithful to the doctrine that the next of kin was\nactuated in seeking vengeance not by simple piety but by a lively fear\nof the dead man\u2019s wrath.\n\nMoreover, this conception of the relations subsisting between the\nmurdered man and his nearest kinsman did not merely furnish the _motif_\nof some fine passages of Tragedy; it served also a more prosaic\npurpose, and actually formed the basis first of Attic law concerning\nblood-guilt, and then of Plato\u2019s Laws in the same connexion.\n\nAt Athens, as is well known, the duty of prosecuting a murderer (or\nhomicide) was imposed by law upon the nearest relative of the murdered\nman. But the obligation was not only legal; it was also, and indeed\nprimarily, religious. The law did no more than affirm and regulate a\ncustom which religious tradition had long established. To this fact\nAntiphon especially bears witness in certain passages[1119] with which\nI must deal more fully later; but the whole tenor of his appeals to the\nreligious feelings and fears of the jury is strictly in accord with the\nManiote doctrine of the present day, save that in one small point he\ntakes a more merciful view. In Maina it is held that, if the next of\nkin fail to avenge the dead man, no matter to what cause the failure be\ndue, he falls a prey to the dead man\u2019s wrath. Antiphon on the contrary\nasserts that, if the next of kin have honestly done his best to bring\nthe murderer to justice, he will not be punished for failure therein;\nand yet he does not represent the dead man as inactive in such a case,\nbut dares to threaten the jury that the murdered man\u2019s anger will now\ndescend, not upon his kinsman who has loyally striven to avenge him,\nbut upon the jury who, by unjustly acquitting and harbouring[1120]\nthe murderer, make themselves accomplices in his crime and sharers\nin his pollution. This difference of opinion however is of minor\nimportance, and seems to be almost a necessary result of different\nsocial conditions. In ancient Athens the next of kin was required to\nproceed against the murderer by legal means, and not to commit a breach\nof law and order by personal violence. In modern Maina the kinsman who\nshould have recourse to law and call in the police would be accounted a\nrecreant; public opinion requires him to find an opportunity, openly or\nby ambush, of slaying the murderer with his own hand; this is to be his\nlife\u2019s work, if need be, and the possibility of failure, save through\nwant of enterprise and energy, is hardly contemplated. But as regards\nthe main issue, namely the belief that the dead man himself is the\nprime avenger of his own wrongs and that his kinsman acts only under\nhis instigation as an assistant in the work, modern superstition has\nthe entire support both of the drama and of the law of ancient Athens.\n\nFurther corroboration is perhaps unnecessary; yet Plato\u2019s legislation\nin the matter of homicide must not be passed over; for it possesses\nthis peculiar interest and importance of its own, that it was\nconfessedly based upon a religious doctrine which Plato esteemed \u2018old\neven among the traditions of antiquity[1121].\u2019 From what source he\nobtained the doctrine he does not definitely say; but, from a mention\nof Delphi in the passage immediately preceding as the supreme authority\nin all matters of purification from blood-guilt, it may fairly be\nsurmised that this too is a piece of Delphic lore. At any rate Plato\naccepted it as an authoritative pronouncement to which the homicide\nmust pay due heed.\n\n\u2018The doctrine,\u2019 says Plato, \u2018is that one who has lived his life in the\nspirit of a free man and meets with a violent death is wroth, while\nhis death is yet recent, against the man who caused it, and when he\nsees him going his way in the places where he himself was wont to move,\nhe strikes[1122] him with the same quaking and terror with which he\nhimself has been filled by the violence done to him, and in his own\nconfusion confounds his enemy and all his doings to the utmost of his\npower, aided therein by the slayer\u2019s own conscience. And that is why it\nis right that the doer of the deed should in deference to the sufferer\nwithdraw for the full space of the year, and should keep clear of the\nwhole country which the dead man had frequented as his native land;\nand if the dead man be a foreigner the slayer must hold aloof from the\nforeigner\u2019s country for the same period. Such then is the law; and, if\na man voluntarily observe it, the dead man\u2019s nearest kinsman, whose\nduty it is to look to all this, must respect the slayer, and will\ndo right to be at peace with him; but, if the slayer disregard this\nlaw and either presume to enter holy places and to sacrifice before\nhe be purified, or, again, refuse to fulfil the allotted period in\nretirement, the nearest of kin must proceed against him on a charge of\nhomicide, and, if a conviction be obtained, the penalties are to be\ndoubled. But if the nearest of kin do not seek vengeance for the deed,\nit is held that the pollution devolves upon him, and that the sufferer\n(i.e. the dead man) turns upon him the suffering (i.e. that which\nthe homicide himself should have incurred), and anyone who will may\nbring a suit against him and obtain a sentence of banishment for five\nyears[1123].\u2019\n\nNow for a right appreciation of this passage it must be borne in mind\nthat Plato introduces his old tradition _\u00e0 propos_ of unintentional\nhomicide. The actual penalties therefore are of a milder nature than\nthose with which we have hitherto been concerned. Indeed it is not the\ndifference in the penalties which should cause any surprise, but rather\nthat an unintentional act should be punished at all; and it would seem\nperhaps that in citing this doctrine Plato sought to justify himself\nin retaining a provision of Attic law which at first sight appeared\nunjust. In Athens[1124], we know, the involuntary homicide was required\nnot only to undergo purification but to withdraw for a whole year from\nthe country of the man whom he had slain. The hardship of this was\nmanifest, and yet Plato acquiesced in the righteousness of it for the\nreason apparently that the year\u2019s retirement[1125] was not a penalty\nimposed by the state, but a satisfaction which, according to religious\ntradition, the dead man demanded and might even himself enforce.\n\nPlato in fact recognises no less frankly than others the personal\nactivity of the slain man. He differs indeed in limiting the duration\nof that activity, when he says that the dead man\u2019s anger is hot\nagainst the slayer only while his death is still recent, and when by\nthe provisions of his law he implies that the victim\u2019s desire for\nvengeance is fully satisfied by the slayer\u2019s withdrawal for the space\nof one year. But this difference is completely explained by the fact\nthat Plato introduces the tradition in connexion with unintentional\nhomicide, whereas previously we have had it treated in relation to\nwilful murder. Reasonably enough the man who has been accidentally\nslain is represented as angry only for a time, while the victim of\ndeliberate murder nourishes a wrath implacable. The one drives the\nauthor of his misfortune into exile for a year and then repents him\nof the evil; the other dogs his enemy with vengeance not only for a\nyear but throughout his life and even after death; and indeed Plato\nhimself, when he passes from the subject of involuntary homicide to\nthat of deliberate murder, proves his recognition of this difference\nby his enactments; for, at any rate in the most heinous case, namely\nthe murder of a near kinsman, he expressly states[1126] that the\nold principle \u2018as a man hath done, so must he suffer\u2019 admits of no\nabatement; the guilty man must die, and his body be left unburied.\n\nBut I must not yet enter upon a discussion of the actual punishments\ninflicted. Here I am only concerned to point out how completely Plato\u2019s\n\u2018old doctrine\u2019 harmonises with that which we have learnt from other\nsources concerning the personal activity of the dead man. First we read\nthat the dead man terrifies and confounds the slayer to the utmost of\nhis power, with the aid of the slayer\u2019s own conscience; and then again\nthat his next of kin is under an obligation to obtain satisfaction\nfor him, and is punished by him if he neglects that duty. Clearly the\nslayer\u2019s own conscience is no more than an instrument--a somewhat\nineffective instrument, one might think, in a case of unintentional\nhomicide--and the next of kin is no more than a minister, both of them\nemployed and directed by the dead man himself. He it is who exacts his\nown vengeance.\n\nThe other literary method of mitigating the crude popular belief in a\nbodily _revenant_ hunting down his enemy was to treat the murderer\u2019s\npunishment as the result of a curse. Such a curse was denoted usually\nby the word \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1, which may perhaps be more exactly rendered by\nthe phrase \u2018a manifestation of wrath (\u03bc\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2)\u2019 on the part of some\nsupernatural being[1127], whether a god or the departed spirit of a\nman; when once provoked by deadly sin such as the murder of a kinsman\nor refusal of burial, this curse was held to cleave to the tainted\nfamily from generation to generation.\n\nIn the case of blood-guilt, which we are at present considering, the\ncurse, as was said above, was held either to work spontaneously or to\nbe executed by some powers of the nether world. The former view is\nmore rarely adopted, but is clearly enough indicated in one or two\npassages of ancient literature. Plato in the _Phaedrus_ speaks of most\ngrievous sicknesses and sufferings being produced in certain families\nas the consequence of ancient curses (\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba \u03bc\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd)[1128]; and\nfrom the reminiscences and verbal echoes of Euripides\u2019 _Orestes_ which\nappear in the passage[1129] it is abundantly clear that the particular\nfamily which Plato had in mind was the blood-guilty house of Atreus.\nHere then there is no mention of any gods, no suggestion that the curse\nwas executed by them or in the first instance proceeded from them.\nAnd the negative evidence of Plato\u2019s silence concerning the gods is\nturned to certainty by the positive statement of Aeschylus that, if a\nson neglect the task of vengeance, \u2018betwixt him and the gods\u2019 altars\nstandeth the unseen barrier of his father\u2019s wrath[1130]\u2019; for if, in\nthe case of the kinsman who by neglecting the duty of vengeance has\nmade himself a partaker in the guilt and pollution of the murderer, the\nWrath (\u03bc\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2) by which he is punished both proceeds from the dead man\nand, far from needing the gods\u2019 furtherance in order to take effect,\nstands as it were on guard to hold the polluted man aloof from their\naltars, then surely the Wrath which pursues the murderer himself must\nemanate from the same source and possess the same spontaneous efficacy.\nThe dead man himself then both launches the curse and controls its\ncourse; and probably it was in deference to this doctrine that Plato\nformulated his own law, that, even in the case of a father being killed\nby his own son, the dying man might with his last breath remit the\ncurse which such a deed incurred and exempt his son from all except\nthe purifications and the temporary retirement imposed in cases of\ninvoluntary homicide[1131].\n\nBut more frequently the execution of the curse is conceived to be\nthe work of certain powers of the nether world. These powers however\ndo not act on their own initiative; they are instigated to the task\nof vengeance by the murdered man himself. Here, no less than in the\nother renderings of the old tradition, the sufferer himself is the\nsupreme avenger of his own sufferings. The most famous example of this\nconception is furnished by the plot of the _Eumenides_. The Furies\nare represented as the servants of Clytemnestra, faithful witnesses\nto her wrongs, exactors of blood for blood on her behalf[1132].\nWhen they slumber and allow Orestes to escape the while, her ghost\napproaches them in no suppliant manner for all their godhead, but\nchides them and urges them afresh, like hounds, upon the quarry\u2019s\ntrail[1133]. And, most significant of all, there is one passage in\nwhich they say of themselves that the name whereby they are known in\ntheir home beneath the earth is the name of Curses (\u1f08\u03c1\u03b1\u03af)[1134]; they\nare in fact the personification of those curses which a murdered man\nhimself directs against his murderer. Nor is this notion confined\nto drama. Xenophon is little prone to poetic imaginings; yet he can\nfind an argument for the immortality of the soul in what he considers\nan established fact of human experience, namely, that the spirits\nof those who have been unjustly slain inspire terrors in their\nmurderers\u2019 hearts and \u2018send against them\u2019 certain \u2018avengers of blood\u2019\n(\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c0\u03ad\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9[1135]). And elsewhere again and again we hear\nof the same avengers under a variety of names--\u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2, \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2,\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9--names which will receive consideration later and by their\nvery meaning and usage will confirm once more my contention that,\nby whatever instrument or agency the murder is represented as being\navenged, ancient literature only departed from the primitive belief in\nbodily _revenants_ executing their own vengeance at the one point at\nwhich the grossness of popular superstition must have offended educated\nsensibilities, and followed the old tradition as faithfully as might be\nin conceding to the dead man, if not bodily, yet personal, activity.\n\nThe same popular beliefs, _mutatis mutandis_, probably attached\nalso to another class of _revenants_, dead men whose bodies had not\nreceived due burial. The necessary modifications of the superstition\nwould be two in number. First, the anger of the dead man would not\nendure for ever, unless his body had been so treated that burial was\nno longer possible, but would cease with the performance of that which\nhe returned to demand; and secondly, he would not be represented\nas using for his agent his next of kin, who in most cases of the\nkind would be the very person responsible to him for the neglect of\nburial. Literature therefore had here no choice of versions; the\nbodily re-appearance of the dead man was reckoned too gross an idea;\nthe employment of his nearest kinsman to act on his behalf became in\nthis case impossible; a curse was the only expedient. And this is\nthe expedient which we actually find adopted. In the _Iliad_ Hector\nadjures Achilles not to fulfil his threat of throwing his dead body to\nthe dogs and to the fowls of the air, but to give him burial, \u2018lest,\u2019\nhe says, \u2018I become a cause of the gods\u2019 wrath against thee\u2019--\u03bc\u03ae \u03c4\u03bf\u03af\n\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9[1136]--and the self-same phrase is put into\nthe mouth of Elpenor\u2019s spirit in the _Odyssey_ when he craves due\nburial of Odysseus[1137]. The same idea occurs once more in Pindar\u2019s\nreference to Phrixus, who bade go unto the halls of Aeetes (for there\nin a strange land he had died, and had not received the burial-rites of\nhis own country) and bring his spirit to rest, and whose bidding Jason\nis besought by Pelias to fulfil, for that \u2018already doth old age wait\nupon me; but with thee the blossom of youth is but burgeoning, and thou\ncanst put away the wrath of powers beneath[1138].\u2019 In each of these\npassages then the actual enforcement of the dead man\u2019s will is by means\nof a curse or \u2018manifestation of wrath\u2019--for the same word \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 (or\n\u03bc\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2) is used; in each case also, as it happens, the curse does not\noperate automatically but is executed by gods--the method preferred\nalso, as we saw, in cases of blood-guilt; but here also, as there, the\npersonal activity of the dead man is frankly acknowledged; the phrase\nof Homer \u2018lest I become ...\u2019 and that of Pindar \u2018Phrixus doth bid ...\u2019\nclearly suggest that the gods were instigated to intervene by the\nsufferer himself.\n\nThe case then stands thus. We learnt in the last chapter that the\nunburied dead no less than the murdered were popularly believed to\nbecome _revenants_. We have since learnt that the murdered, in the\ncapacity of _revenants_, were popularly believed to avenge their own\nwrongs with their own hands, but that ancient literature commonly\npresents a modified version of that belief according to which the\npersonal activity indeed of the dead man is recognised, but the\ninstrument of his vengeance is a curse executed by demonic agents. We\nfind now that literature assigns also to the unburied dead the same\npersonal activity in punishing those whose neglect has caused their\nsuffering, and by the same means. The reasonable inference is that here\ntoo we have a modified version of a popular belief that the unburied,\nlike the murdered, not only became _revenants_, which we know, but, in\nthe capacity of _revenants_, themselves punished those who refused or\nneglected to render them their due funeral rites.\n\nThus the same principle governed the whole system of the punishment\nincurred by men who were guilty either of murder or of leaving the\ndead unburied--the principle that the dead man whom they had injured\nin either of these ways himself requited those injuries. Hence, when\nwe proceed to examine the actual punishments inflicted, we need no\nlonger concern ourselves with the fact that literature attributes the\ninfliction now to the nearest kinsman of the dead man and anon to some\ndivine avenger; but, whatsoever instrument or agency is employed, we\nknow that the dead man himself was believed to control and direct\nit, and therefore that the punishment thus effected was conceived to\nbe such as the dead man himself willed and, in popular belief, could\nwith his own hands enforce. Thus in the _Oresteia_ the punishment of\nClytemnestra is actually effected by Orestes, and again the punishment\nof Orestes is entrusted to the Furies; but Orestes is only the minister\nof his dead father, carrying out the work of retribution under pain of\nincurring the same punishment himself if by inaction he should consent\nunto his mother\u2019s crime; and the Furies in like manner are only the\nservants of the dead Clytemnestra, instigated by her to their pursuit.\nThe slaying of Clytemnestra and the sufferings of Orestes are the\npunishments which the dead Agamemnon and the dead Clytemnestra, even in\nthe literary version of the story, impose, and, in a more primitive and\ngross form of it, might themselves have inflicted.\n\nBut before examining the nature of those punishments in detail, it\nwill be well to recall the fact that to the eyes of the ancient\nGreeks murder or homicide always presented itself in two distinct\naspects[1139]. Regarded from one point of view, it was the gravest\npossible injury to the man who was slain. Viewed from the other, it\nwas a source of \u2018pollution\u2019 (\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, \u03bc\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f05\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2), an abomination to\nthe gods and a peril to living men; for the taint of bloodshed was\nconceived as a contagious physical malady, which the polluted person\nby touch or even by speech[1140] might communicate to his fellow-men,\nand not to them only, but to places which he visited, the market,\nthe harbours, the temples[1141]; nay, even the sanctity of the gods\u2019\nimages was not proof against the contamination of his bloodstained\nhands[1142]. In brief, the two aspects of homicide were the moral and\nthe religious aspects; and both moral and religious atonements were\nrequired. The wrong done to the dead man was requited by the sufferings\nwhich he in turn imposed; the pollution, being primarily a state of\nreligious disability (for it involved, as Plato says[1143], the enmity\nof the gods), was removed by a religious ceremony of purification.\n\nHow clearly marked was this distinction in antiquity is evident from\nPlato\u2019s laws on homicide, as a brief consideration of two or three\nspecial cases will show.\n\nFirst, in the most venial case of homicide, where a man had killed his\nown slave, he incurred no punishment at all, but was bound none the\nless to get himself purified[1144].\n\nSecondly, in cases of the utmost enormity, as where a man wilfully\nmurdered his father or mother, religion provided no means of\npurification. Blood-guilt in general was \u2018hard to cure\u2019; but parricide\nbelonged to the class of sins \u2018incurable[1145].\u2019 Such a murderer\ntherefore must die, for, as Plato says, \u2018there is no other kind\nof purification\u2019 in this case than the paying of blood for blood.\nReligious purification in the ordinary sense of the word was refused,\nbut the extreme punishment was demanded.\n\nThirdly, in the majority of cases of blood-guilt, where both\npurification and punishment were required, the two were clearly\nindependent of each other. The purification of the involuntary\nhomicide was to precede the year\u2019s retirement[1146]. The religious\nceremony cleansed the man from pollution, but could no more exempt him\nfrom making satisfaction to the dead man whom he had wronged, than\nabsolution of sin pronounced in the Christian confessional can exempt\nfrom the legal consequences of crime. The Delphic priesthood itself, if\nwe may trust the testimony of Aeschylus, claimed no more than the power\nto cleanse; for Apollo himself, holding Orestes guilty of manslaughter\nthough not of murder, after granting him religious purification, does\nnot intervene to save him from that exile which even the unintentional\nhomicide was bidden by Attic law to undergo; nay, he even acquiesces\nin the necessity of Orestes\u2019 flight, bids him not faint before his\nwanderings are done, and promises only to set a limit thereto and to\nfree him from the pursuing Furies in the end[1147].\n\nThe distinction between the pollution and the injury, and between\nthe purification and the punishment, being thus clearly recognised,\nit is necessary, in investigating the relations between the dead man\nand his murderer, to set the purely religious aspect of blood-guilt\non one side, and to treat the punishments inflicted upon the murderer\nsimply as the settling of an account between man and man. One point\nonly as regards the pollution need be borne in mind, namely, that\npurification was granted to the homicide in the interests of gods and\nmen whose abodes would otherwise be defiled by his presence, and that\nthe dead man could not conceivably derive any satisfaction therefrom.\nOn the contrary, his desire for vengeance would naturally lead him to\ninterpose \u2018the unseen barrier of his wrath\u2019 betwixt the guilty man and\nthose altars of the gods where alone purification could be won, and\nthus to keep his enemy still polluted; for his pollution, just because\nit was a peril to his fellowmen, carried with it the punishment of\nutter solitude until he was cleansed. When therefore, as will appear\nlater, the murdered man is described not only as an avenger of his own\nwrongs, but as one who strives to keep alive the religious defilement\nof the murderer, there is no confusion of the moral and the religious\naspects of murder, but rather the injured man is conceived as wreaking\nhis vengeance by every possible means, not only directly by the\nsufferings which he can personally inflict, but also indirectly by the\nprivation which the state of pollution necessarily involves.\n\nThe nature of the direct acts of vengeance, which are now to be\nexamined, can best be learnt from that passage of the _Choephori_\nwhich depicts the horrible penalties awaiting Orestes if by inaction\nhe should make himself a consenter to the crime of Clytemnestra. We\nhave already learnt that in such a case the defaulting kinsman incurred\nprecisely the same punishment as he should have assisted to inflict on\nthe actual murderer. That therefore with which Orestes was threatened\nwas that to which Clytemnestra was already condemned. The punishments\nnamed are those with which, according to popular superstition, a\nmurdered man, risen in bodily substance from the grave, could requite\nhis enemy. For no one, I suppose, would suggest that Aeschylus,\nwho followed popular tradition so scrupulously in all that did not\nabsolutely conflict with dramatic propriety, invented for himself the\nwhole scheme of penalties here set forth. That he was bound to modify\nthe means whereby the punishments were inflicted, in order to avoid\nthe incongruity of a _revenant_ upon the stage, we already know and\nshall see again; but how closely he adhered to the popularly accepted\nscheme of punishments, even when he was forced to find some new means\nof inflicting them, will incidentally be shown by that detailed\nexamination to which his list of penalties must now be subjected.\n\nThe first penalty is the physical torment of leprous blains that\nconsume the body and age the sufferer prematurely. At first we are\ninclined to wonder why leprosy is selected by the dead man as his\nmeans of retaliation against his enemy; but a little reflection will\nlead us to guess that in this particular act of vengeance Aeschylus\ncould not actually reproduce the popular doctrine. The common-folk\nbelieved in the bodily activity of the dead; and, if they believed\nalso that bodily sufferings were part of the punishment which the\nmurderer incurred, the two beliefs must surely have been correlated;\nthe physical sufferings of the murderer must have been conceived to be\ncaused by the physical activity of the murdered; or, to put it more\nplainly, if we may elucidate ancient superstition by the aid of modern,\nthe murdered man, in the form of a _revenant_ bent on vengeance, was\nbelieved to leap upon his victim and rend him with his teeth and suck\nout his very life-blood. Clearly Aeschylus could not commit himself to\nso crude a presentation of a _revenant_; he could not conjure up before\nhis audience the spectacle of the dead Agamemnon athirst for actual\nblood; but equally clearly he knew that popular superstition, and had\nit in his mind when he depicted the horrors of leprosy. For the bodily\nassault of a _revenant_ he substituted a natural malady engendered by a\ndead man\u2019s unseen wrath; but he described the operation of that malady\nin language suggested by the popular presentment of a personal avenger\nmore reasonable indeed in his purpose but scarcely less ferocious in\nhis acts than a Slavonic vampire--\u2018blains that leap upon the flesh\nand with savage jaws eat out its erstwhile vigour[1148].\u2019 The means\nof inflicting the punishment is changed, but the actual punishment of\nthe murderer is the same as if it were not leprosy but in very truth\na vampire, which leapt upon him and gnawed his flesh and drained his\nlife-blood. So faithful is Aeschylus to the crude popular idea of a\nretribution which required that he who had spilled another\u2019s blood\nshould have his own blood drunk by his victim.\n\nThe second penalty is the mental agony of one whom \u2018madness and vain\nterror sprung of the darkness do shake and confound[1149].\u2019 Here again\nthe punishment is in strict accord with that law that a man must suffer\nas he has wrought. That old tradition recorded and revered by Plato,\non which I have already touched, taught that every man who was slain\nby violence was himself filled thereby with quaking and terror and\nconfusion of spirit, and accordingly sought his revenge in terrifying\nand confounding the slayer. No clearer commentary on the lines of\nAeschylus could be desired. Plato explains how the terror and the\nconfusion--for he employs the selfsame words as Aeschylus--by which the\nmurderer is overwhelmed are the exact counterpart of the mental anguish\nwhich his violence brought upon his victim. Aeschylus then once\nagain was following closely an old tradition of the popular religion.\nIt matters not at all that in this case he names the Erinyes as the\nagents, just as previously he made leprosy the instrument, of the dead\nman\u2019s vengeance. The actual sufferings which the murderer must undergo\nare in this case also identical in character with those which he caused\nto his victim.\n\nThe third punishment of the blood-guilty man consists in wandering\nfriendless and outcast; and this again is no arbitrary invention of\nAeschylus, but was clearly prescribed by that old tradition which,\nin Plato\u2019s reckoning, justified the legal imposition of a year\u2019s\nretirement even upon those who had shed blood involuntarily. Where\nthen is that correspondence, which our examination of the first two\npenalties has led us to expect, between this third punishment and the\nsufferings of the dead man who exacts it? Is there the same nicety\nof retribution? Clearly so. The dead man became in popular belief a\n_revenant_, a wanderer from out the grave, pitiable in his loneliness,\ncut off from all friendly intercourse with living men, not yet admitted\nto the fellowship of the departed, the sorriest of outcasts. Such was\nthe misery to which the murderer by his act of violence had brought his\nvictim; such therefore too the misery which the murderer himself must\ntaste in his wanderings and loneliness here on earth, though it were\nbut a foretaste of more consummate misery hereafter. Truly even in life\nthe murderer was made to suffer as he had wrought.\n\nAnd then comes the fourth penalty, death; for though Aeschylus, in\nthe list of punishments which we have now before us, touches but\nlightly on this, the most obvious form of retribution, yet elsewhere\nhe repeatedly affirms, and many another re-echoes, the doctrine that\nblood cries for blood[1150]. Perhaps in this passage he felt that by\ndepicting the gnawing pangs of leprosy he had sufficiently proclaimed\nthe sure approach of death; perhaps he passed it by as a slight thing\nin comparison with the horror that yet remained to be told. For death\ndid not close the tale of punishments; the blood-guilty man, so chant\nthe Furies, \u2018though he be dead is none too free[1151].\u2019\n\nAnd so we pass to the last requirement of vengeance, that the\noutcast shall have no friend to honour his dead body with the due\nfuneral-rites, whereby alone the desired dissolution could be secured,\nbut is doomed to lie unburied, incorruptible. Such is my interpretation\nof the closing lines of the passage before us; and there is no need\nto repeat the defence of my contention that the word \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\nmust be understood in its literal and proper sense. But it will not\nbe out of place to note here how, in the _Eumenides_, Aeschylus\u2019 mind\nwas still pervaded by the same popular belief. The word \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\nmeans, in the literal sense in which I have taken it, to be withheld\nfrom corruption by some process of curing or drying; and, fantastic\nthough it may seem, it is that process of \u2018drying,\u2019 if I may use\nthe word, which the Furies are charged by Clytemnestra to carry out\nagainst her murderer. Let Aeschylus\u2019 own words prove it. Hear first how\nClytemnestra\u2019s ghost with her last words spurs on the Furies to this\nspecial task:\n\n    \u03c3\u1f7a \u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f31\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u1fe6\u03bc\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff7,\n    \u1f00\u03c4\u03bc\u1ff7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c7\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1, \u03bd\u03b7\u03b4\u03cd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u1f76,\n    \u1f15\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5, \u03bc\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd[1152].\n\n    \u2018Up and pursue! let thy breath lap his blood\n    With sering reek, as were thy bowels a furnace,\n    Till he be shrivelled in the redoubled chase.\u2019\n\nAnd the Furies prove by their threats to Orestes that they are not\nunmindful of their charge. \u2018Nay, in return for the blood thou hast\nshed, thou must give me to suck the red juices from thy living limbs.\nThyself must be my meat, my horrid drink.\u2019 \u2018Yea, while thou livest, I\nwill drain thee dry, ere I hale thee \u2019neath the earth[1153].\u2019 And the\nsame thought is emphasized yet again in that binding-spell which the\nFuries chant to draw him whom they already account their prey from his\nvain refuge at Athene\u2019s altar:\n\n        \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3\n    \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u1f70, \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2,\n        \u1f55\u03bc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be \u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd,\n    \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd, \u1f00\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b1\u1f50\u03bf\u03bd\u1f70 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2[1154].\n\n    \u2018Over our victim thus chant we our spell,\n    Rocking and wrecking the tortur\u00e8d soul,\n        The jubilant song of Avengers,\n    Fettering the soul with no \u2019witchments of lute,\n        A spell as of drought[1155] upon mortals.\u2019\n\nSuch is the wild, weird refrain of the Furies\u2019 incantation; and in its\nclosing phrase are re-echoed the closing words of Clytemnestra\u2019s charge.\n\nWill anyone then venture to say that Aeschylus had no special reason\nfor thus repeating thrice within the compass of some two hundred lines\nthe same threat? For the punishment threatened is substantially the\nsame, though the means of inflicting it vary. Now it is the breath of\nthe Furies which shall scorch up the victim\u2019s very blood; now it is\ntheir lips that shall suck him dry; now a magic spell to parch and\nshrivel him; but ever the effect is the same; the bloodguilty man\nshall lie in death a sere and sapless carcase, already \u2018damned to\nincorruption[1156] even in that doom which wastes all else.\u2019 And the\nonly reason which I can conceive for the poet\u2019s insistence upon this\nthought is that here again, as in all the former punishments, he was\nreproducing a popular belief substantially the same then as it is in\nMaina now, namely, that the murdered man, having become a _revenant_,\nsucked his murderer\u2019s blood and made him also in his turn a _revenant_.\n\nNor is Aeschylus the only ancient authority for the idea of some such\nretribution after death. Plato, in a passage of the _Phaedrus_ already\ncited, contemplates the activity of a murdered man\u2019s wrath (\u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1)\nnot only in the present time but also hereafter[1157]; and in his\n_Laws_ there is a provision, not assuredly of his own devising but\ndating from the very beginning of Greek legislation, which can only\nhave been designed to insure the complete vengeance of the murdered\nman on his murderer even beyond death. A man convicted of the wilful\nmurder of a near kinsman[1158] was punishable not only with death but\nwith a further penalty: \u2018the attendants of the jury and the magistrates\nhaving killed him shall cast out his corpse naked at an appointed\ncross-roads without the city, and all the magistrates, representing\nthe whole city, shall take each a stone and cast it upon the head of\nthe corpse and thereby free the whole city from guilt, and thereafter\nthey shall carry the corpse to the borders of their land and cast it\nout, in accordance with the law, unburied[1159].\u2019 Now the law, we know,\nin ordaining the penalty of death, ordained it as a satisfaction of\nthe murdered man\u2019s claims to vengeance. The State, so to speak, sided\nwith the dead man and assisted him to exact blood for blood. Again the\nstoning of the dead body by representatives of the city was intended,\nwe are expressly told, to free the whole city from guilt--from guilt,\nthat is, in the eyes of the murdered man, who might otherwise visit\nhis wrath upon the city as though it had consented to the crime or had\ntoo lightly punished it. Can it then be supposed that the State was\nactuated by any other motive in carrying out the rest of the penalty?\nIt was surely still in deference to the murdered man\u2019s desires that the\nmurderer\u2019s corpse was left unburied. To refuse burial was the surest\nmeans of condemning the man to resuscitation and thereby of satisfying\nhis former victim\u2019s uttermost demands.\n\nThus our detailed examination of the Aeschylean catalogue of penalties\nestablishes beyond doubt that of which we had already had some\nevidence, namely, that all the punishments which were inflicted on\nthe murderer--and, in popular belief, inflicted by the murdered man\non his own behalf--were an exact reproduction of the sufferings which\nthe murdered man himself had undeservingly endured, and culminated\ntherefore, as they should, in the blood-guilty man becoming, like his\nvictim, a _revenant_.\n\nThe main problem then of this section is now fully solved; but\nincidentally much light has been thrown upon the character ascribed\nby the Greek people in antiquity to those _revenants_ who were not\nmerely pitiable sufferers but were active in bringing a like doom\nupon those who had wronged them. And the character of these Avengers\napproximates very closely to that of the modern _vrykolakes_. True,\nthere is one fundamental difference; the ancient Avenger directed his\nwrath solely against the author of his sufferings, or at the most\nextended it only to those who, owing to him the duty of furthering his\nvengeance, had proved lax and cowardly therein; the modern _vrykolakas_\nis unreasoning in his wrath and plagues indiscriminately all who fall\nin his way. But the actual sufferings which the _vrykolakas_ inflicts\nare identical with those which furnished Aeschylus with his tale of\nthreatened horrors. Modern stories there are in plenty, which tell\nhow the _vrykolakas_ springs upon his victim and rends him and drinks\nhis blood; how sheer terror of his aspect has driven men mad; how, in\norder to escape him, whole families have been driven forth from their\nnative island to wander in exile[1160]; how death has often been the\nissue of his assaults; and how those whom a _vrykolakas_ has slain\nbecome themselves _vrykolakes_. Only his unreasoning and indiscriminate\nfury is necessarily of Slavonic origin; his acts are the acts of those\nancient _revenants_ whose own wrongs rightfully made them the Avengers\nof blood. Apart from the one Slavonic trait, the characters of the\n_vrykolakas_ and the ancient Avenger are identical.\n\nAnd perhaps this identity is most clearly seen in the one case in which\nthe old Avenger punished not only the immediate author of his own\nwrongs, but a whole community which had subsequently given the guilty\nman an asylum. We have noticed how Antiphon ventured to threaten an\nAthenian jury with such punishment at the hands of the dead man if they\nwrongfully acquitted his murderer. In the same spirit Aeschylus makes\nthe Furies, as the agents of the dead Clytemnestra, menace the whole\nland of Attica with a venomous curse that shall blast man and beast and\nherb in revenge for the wresting of Orestes from their grasp[1161].\nAnd such too is the dread which in the _Phoenissae_ of Euripides stirs\nCreon to make to the blood-guilty Oedipus this appeal: \u2018Nay, remove\nthee hence: verily \u2019tis not in scorn that I say this, nor in enmity to\nthee, but because of thine Avengers, in fear lest the land suffer some\nhurt[1162].\u2019 In such cases the punishments with which a whole community\nis threatened, although still a reasonable measure, approach most\nnearly to the indiscriminate violence of the modern _vrykolakas_.\n\nFor the fulfilment of such threats as these we must turn to the\n_Supplices_ of Aeschylus, and there we shall find a description of just\nsuch a devastation as is said to have been suffered by the inhabitants\nof Santorini and many other places in the seventeenth century. The\nstory of Aeschylus tells how \u2018there came unto the Argive land, from\nthe shore of Naupactus, Apis, son of Apollo, both healer and seer,\nand cleansed the land of monsters that destroyed mankind, even of\nthose that Earth, tainted with the pollutions of blood shed of old,\nsent up in wrath to work havoc, fearsome as a dragon-brood to dwell\namong[1163].\u2019 What then were these monsters? I will venture to say\nthat any Greek peasant of to-day, could he but read and understand\nthe Aeschylean description, would furnish a better commentary upon\nthose lines than the most learned discourse thereon that any scholar\nhas written; and his commentary would be summed up in the one word\n_vrykolakes_. For, vigorous as the description is, its vigour comes\nless of dramatic word-building than of fidelity to the horrors of\npopular superstition, and no other single passage could so fully\nestablish the unity of ancient and modern belief. For while the actual\nlanguage contains all the words[1164] which in antiquity were bound\nup with the superstition--the \u2018pollution\u2019 which comes of bloodshed,\nthe \u2018wrath\u2019 which follows thereon and in which Earth herself is here\nmade to share, and the \u2018sending up\u2019 by Earth of the Avengers--the\nthought of the passage is a faithful reflection of what the Greek\npeasants still believe, that a violent death is among the chief causes\nof resuscitation, that the earth sends up the dead man raging to deal\ndestruction, and that with others of his kind he consorts and conspires\nin veritable dragon-bands; and men still tell of gifted seers and\nhealers, such as Apis, summoned in hot haste to panic-stricken hamlets\nto allay the pest. The \u03ba\u03bd\u03ce\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03b8\u03cc\u03c1\u03b1 of Aeschylus, \u2018the monsters\nthat destroy mankind,\u2019 are indeed but little removed from the modern\n_vrykolakes_.\n\nIs it not then clear also on what sources Aeschylus drew for his\npicture of the Furies themselves? We have seen how, for dramatic\npurposes, they were substituted for a _revenant_ wreaking his own\nvengeance. Clytemnestra herself in bodily form should have been the\nAvenger, if popular superstition had not been in this respect too\ngross; but the Erinyes take her place in the actual execution of\nvengeance, and she herself appears only as a ghost to instigate them\nto their work. But, when that substitution was effected, did not\nAeschylus clearly transfer to the Erinyes the whole character and\neven the appearance popularly attributed to the human Avenger? They\nare black and loathly to look upon[1165]; their breath is deadly\nto approach[1166]; the smell of blood is a joy to them[1167]; they\nfollow like hounds upon their victim\u2019s trail[1168]; they torment him\nboth body and soul[1169]; they fasten upon his living limbs and gorge\nthemselves with his blood[1170]; and if any would harbour him from\ntheir pursuit, the venom of their wrath falls like a plague upon the\nland, and devastates it[1171]; they are monsters, \u03ba\u03bd\u03ce\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1[1172]--and\nthe recurrence of this word is significant--abhorrent alike to gods\nand to men[1173]. The description is surely not that which Aeschylus\nwould himself have invented for beings who should come afterwards to be\nworshipped as \u2018revered goddesses,\u2019 \u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03af. The difficulty of that\ntransition in the play itself cannot but arrest the attention of every\nreader; it is a difficulty which even the genius of Aeschylus could not\nremove. Why then did he draw so loathsome a portrait of the Erinyes\nin the earlier part of the play? Why did he create that difficulty?\nThe reason, I suggest, was that he followed once more, and this time\nalmost too faithfully, the popular traditions, and, while he would not\nrepresent a real _revenant_ on the stage, transferred to those demonic\nagents, by whom the work of vengeance was vicariously performed, all\nthe attributes popularly associated with the prototypes of the modern\n_vrykolakas_.\n\nThus then the history of the modern belief in _vrykolakes_ has been\nfully traced. The ancients also believed that for certain causes--the\nsame causes in the main as are still assigned--men were doomed to\nremain incorruptible after death and to rise again in bodily form from\ntheir graves, and that one class of these _revenants_, those namely\nwho had wrongs of their own to avenge, inflicted upon their enemies\n(and upon any who shielded or harboured them) the same sufferings as\nare now generally believed to be inflicted in an unreasoning manner\nby all classes of _vrykolakes_ alike upon mankind at large, with no\njustification, such as a natural desire for vengeance might afford,\nin the case of those whose resuscitation is not the outcome of any\ninjury or neglect at the hands of other men, and with no discrimination\nbetween friend and foe on the part of those who have real wrongs\nto avenge. Remove the unreasoning element in the character of the\n_vrykolakas_, and the _revenant_ in which the folk of ancient Greece\nbelieved remains.\n\nBut, if they believed in him, they must have called him by some\nname. Aeschylus\u2019 phrase \u03ba\u03bd\u03ce\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03b8\u03cc\u03c1\u03b1, \u2018monsters that destroy\nmankind,\u2019 is a description rather than a name. What were the reasonable\n_vrykolakes_ of ancient Greece called? That is now the one question\nwhich must be answered in order to make our enquiry complete.\n\nBriefly my answer is this, that the particular class of _revenants_\nwith which the present section has mainly dealt, the Avengers of blood,\nwere known by three several names, \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, and \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2,\nbut that literature contains no word which could serve as a collective\ndesignation for all classes alike. I hope however to show that the\nGreek language was not originally defective in this respect, but that\nthe term \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, although regularly used from the fifth century\nonwards in the narrow sense of an Avenger, had originally a wider\napplication and denoted simply a _revenant_.\n\nNow the interpretation which I give to these three words is not that\nwhich is commonly accepted. Anyone who will turn to a lexicon will\nfind that to each of the three is assigned a double signification\nin connexion with blood-guilt. All three are said to denote either\na god who punishes the blood-guilty or the blood-guilty man who is\npunished. Thus a god, it is alleged, may be called \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 (literally\na \u2018polluter\u2019) because he punishes the polluted--a somewhat obvious\nmisnomer; or again \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, because he \u2018does not forget\u2019 but punishes\nthe sinner--a derivation which, as I shall show later, cannot be\naccepted; or thirdly \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, as the being who was \u2018turned to\u2019\nby the murdered man and was besought to avenge his cause--a somewhat\ncircuitous way for the word to arrive at its active sense of \u2018Avenger.\u2019\nAnd, secondly, a man, it is said, was called \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 when, being\nhimself polluted, he was liable to be \u2018a polluter\u2019 of other men with\nwhom he came in contact--a view which is certainly defensible; \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1\nas one whose sin \u2018could not be forgotten\u2019--an interpretation almost\nbeyond the pale of serious discussion; and \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 because,\nbeing blood-guilty, he \u2018turned towards\u2019 some god for purification--an\nexplanation which may be right--whence the word came to denote in\ngeneral a polluted person who still needed purification.\n\nThus in my view, as I have indicated, the greater part of the\ninformation in the lexicons with regard to these three words is\ninaccurate; and my reasons for disputing the received interpretations\nwill be set forth point by point as I offer my own interpretations in\ntheir stead.\n\nIn dealing with the first group of meanings assigned to the three\nwords, by which they came, somehow or other, to be used with the common\nactive signification of \u2018Avenger,\u2019 my main contention will be that,\nas regards their primary and strictest usage, all three words were\napplied not to gods but to men--men who, having been murdered, sought\nto requite their murderers--and were only secondarily extended to the\nagents, whether divine or human, to whom those dead men committed the\ntask of vengeance; but I shall also endeavour to show, as regards the\nliteral meaning of the three words severally, that the interpretation\nby means of which their final sense of \u2018Avenger\u2019 has generally been\nelicited from them is in each case wrong, and that, in the case of\nthe word \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 in particular, a right understanding of its original\nmeaning gives very important results.\n\nAnd in dealing with the second group of meanings, by which the three\nwords are said to denote three only slightly different aspects of\none and the same person--a murderer who is \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 as polluted and\nspreading pollution, \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 as pursued by vengeance, and \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\nas still needing purification--I shall maintain that these alleged uses\nof the first two words do not exist, and, as regards the third, I will\noffer a suggestion, but a suggestion only, as to the means by which it\nacquired this signification which it unquestionably bore.\n\nIt will be convenient to deal first with \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 and \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 as being\nparallel in usage throughout, and to reserve \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 for later\nconsideration.\n\nThe clearest example of that which I take to be the original usage\nof \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 is furnished by Euripides. In that scene of mutual\nrecrimination between Medea and Jason, after that in revenge for her\nhusband\u2019s faithlessness she has slain their children, there comes\nat last from her lips the brutal taunt, as she points to the dead,\n\u2018They live no more: that truth at least will sting thee\u2019; and Jason\nanswers, \u2018Nay, but they live, to wreak vengeance on thy head (\u03c3\u1ff7 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u1fb3\n\u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2)[1174].\u2019 No language could be more simple, more explicit. The\nvery children who lay there murdered at Medea\u2019s feet, they and none\nother should be the _Miastores_, the Avengers of their own foul deaths.\n\nBut of course the word has other applications also. When\nAeschylus[1175] made the Erinyes threaten that even when Orestes should\nhave fled beneath the earth, he should find another Avenger (\u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1)\nto plague him in their stead, the whole tenor of the passage compels\nus to understand that that other Avenger is some deity or demon of the\nnether world--a divine, not a human, _Miastor_, though at the same\ntime one who will act, like the Erinyes themselves, on behalf of the\nmurdered Clytemnestra.\n\nAnd, yet again, the same term is applied to a living man, when, as\nnext of kin to him who has been murdered, he is in duty bound to exact\nvengeance. This time Sophocles is our authority, and the person of whom\nthe word is used is Orestes. \u2018Oft,\u2019 says Electra to Clytemnestra, \u2018oft\nhast thou reproached me with saving him to take vengeance upon thee\n(\u03c3\u03bf\u1f76 \u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1)[1176].\u2019\n\nThese three passages then illustrate the threefold application of the\nname _Miastor_, and the question to be answered is which represents the\nprimary usage of the word. To multiply instances of each or any would\nbe of no avail; the question is not of the frequency of each usage; the\ncommonest is not necessarily the earliest. How then is the question\nto be answered? It is, I think, already answered. We have seen that\nin popular belief the murdered man was the prime avenger of his own\nwrongs, and that even in literature, when the execution of vengeance\nis wholly transferred either to the nearest kinsman or to some demonic\npower, the murdered man is still recognised as the principal and\nthe others are only his agents. It is this relation between them\nwhich settles the question. A principal does not act in the name of\nhis agents, but the agents in the name of their principal. The name\n_Miastor_ therefore belonged first to the dead man himself, and was\nonly extended afterwards to those who wrought vengeance on his behalf.\n\nSo much for the usage of the word. Next, how did it acquire the\nmeaning of \u2018Avenger,\u2019 which it undoubtedly possessed? This can be\nonly a matter of opinion. But since it appears to me unscholarly and\nillogical to suppose that a word, which on the grounds of formation\nmust have first meant \u2018one who causes pollution,\u2019 could have come to\nmean \u2018one who punishes pollution,\u2019 I may at least offer an alternative\nsuggestion. The murdered man, I admit, can hardly be said to have\n\u2018caused\u2019 the pollution of his murderer, or at any rate he could only\nhave caused it involuntarily. But he might well be regarded as active\nin debarring the murderer from the means of purification and in keeping\nthe pollution, as it were, fresh and virulent, with intent to isolate\nhis enemy and to ban him from the abodes of his fellow-men. And some\nindication of such an activity is afforded by the Erinyes--acting,\nas always, on Clytemnestra\u2019s behalf; they refuse to acknowledge the\npurification granted by Apollo to Orestes, and they say moreover that\ntheir task is to \u2018keep dark and fresh the stain of blood[1177].\u2019 The\nmurdered man may therefore have been believed, if not actually to cause\nand to create, yet at least to promote and to re-create, the pollution\nof his foe, and, by keeping the stains of blood as it were from fading\nor being cleansed away, to wreak some part of his vengeance. In this\nway the transition from the sense of \u2018polluter\u2019 to that of \u2018avenger\u2019 is\nat least, I submit, intelligible. This however is only a side-issue.\nThe important point is that the word _Miastor_, however it may have\ncome to mean \u2018Avenger,\u2019 was primarily applied to the _revenant_\nhimself, and only secondarily to any god.\n\nThe next name to be considered, \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, is commonly accounted a\nsynonym of \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, denoting in actual usage a \u2018god of vengeance,\u2019\nand meaning literally \u2018one who does not forget\u2019 blood-guiltiness. I\ntoo hold it to be a synonym of _Miastor_, but to denote therefore\nprimarily not a god but a human _revenant_ seeking vengeance, and only\nafterwards, by a transference of usage, a god or living man acting in\nthe name of the dead; while, as for the supposed derivation, I count it\nabsolutely untenable.\n\nAnd first as regards the application of the word; after what has\nbeen, I hope, a fairly exhaustive study of the passages of classical\nliterature in which it occurs, I am bound to confess that, though the\ninstances of its use are far more numerous than those of _Miastor_,\nI am still unable to select three passages and to say \u2018Here are my\nproofs of the triple application of the word.\u2019 Indeed all that I can\nprove by the evidence of any single passage taken alone is curiously\nenough the existence of what I take to have been the rarest of the\nthree usages--the application of the name _Alastor_ to the kinsman of\nthe dead man, as being the agent of his vengeance. Just as Sophocles\nspeaks of Orestes being preserved as a _Miastor_ to take vengeance\non Clytemnestra for his father\u2019s death, so does Aeschylus make the\nsame Orestes name himself an _Alastor_ on the score of the vengeance\nwhich he has taken. \u2018Queen Athene,\u2019 he prays, \u2018at Loxias\u2019 bidding am\nI come; receive thou me graciously, avenger as I am, no murderer,\nnor of defiled hand ... \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c6\u03bf\u03af\u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1[1178].\u2019 Such, I am convinced, is the right rendering of the\npassage. The lexicons indeed cite the line as an example of the alleged\npassive meaning of \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1--one who suffers from divine vengeance, an\naccursed wretch[1179]; and I acknowledge that such a meaning would\nmake passable sense of the passage; for Orestes was indeed suffering\nfrom the vengeance of the Erinyes. But I hold, and I shall endeavour\nto prove later, that \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 never possessed a passive meaning, and I\nclaim moreover that the active meaning of \u2018Avenger,\u2019 which I attribute\nto the word here as elsewhere, is immensely preferable in itself. For\nOrestes throughout pleads justification[1180]; he has avenged murder,\nnot committed it; he has discharged a duty to his dead sire, not\nperpetrated a wanton crime against his mother; he slew her indeed,\nbut his motive was pious, and the ordaining of his act divine. On the\ngrounds therefore, first, of the word\u2019s own active meaning, secondly,\nof the whole trend of Orestes\u2019 defence of his conduct, and last, but by\nno means least, of the exact parallel furnished by Sophocles\u2019 use of\nthe word _Miastor_, I am confident that _Alastor_ as applied by Orestes\nto himself means an \u2018Avenger.\u2019\n\nThat the word however was not primarily applied to the kinsman acting\non behalf of the murdered man will be universally conceded; in the\nvast majority of passages some supernatural being is clearly intended.\nBut it has been too hastily assumed that the supernatural avengers\nwere always gods or demons; that they were often so conceived I do not\ndoubt; but, as a matter of fact, I have discovered no single passage of\nclassical literature which can be said finally and absolutely in itself\nto demand that interpretation. In many instances the probabilities are\nin favour of the _Alastores_ being regarded as a class of avenging\ndemons; in many others it is equally good or even better to suppose\nthat they are the dead men themselves in person.\n\nWhat then are the foundations upon which the received notion, that\nthe _Alastores_ were always gods, is based? It might perhaps be urged\nthat the word _Alastor_ found a place among the many epithets and\ntitles conferred by worshippers upon Zeus[1181] in order to indicate\nthe particular exercise of his all-reaching power which their hearts\ndesired. It might also be urged that Clement of Alexandria names\nthe _Alastores_ among those classes of gods whom the pagan Greeks\nhad evolved from the naughtiness of their own imagination as types\nand personifications of the baser human passions[1182]. But neither\nof these facts can serve to substantiate the contention that the\n_Alastores_ were primarily and necessarily gods. The occasional use\nof a word as an epithet of Zeus cannot be held to prove the general\nappropriation of that word to a class of lesser gods; while the\nstatement of Clement is the statement of a man designedly vilifying the\nwhole Greek religion, neither appreciating nor desirous to appreciate\nits refinements, but willing rather to overwhelm it utterly, its better\nand its worse elements alike, with the torrent of his invective and\nreprobation. To him the _Alastores_ appeared as supernatural beings\ninstinct with the pagan passion of revenge, false gods therefore\nor devils, fit objects whereon to pour out the vials of righteous\nwrath and Christian scorn. He was not concerned to be wholly just or\nwholly accurate. Indeed the very sources from which he drew the idea\nthat the _Alastores_ were gods are still open to us; it is the Greek\nTragedians whom he holds guilty of this naughty invention; it is the\nGreek Tragedians who remain for us the fountain-head of information\nconcerning these Avengers, and who will on examination make it clear\nthat they were not primarily or necessarily gods.\n\nThe single passage in Greek Tragedy which has been often regarded\nas evidence in favour of Clement\u2019s classification of _Alastores_\namong gods is on fuller enquiry rather a refutation of that view. In\nthe _Persae_ of Aeschylus the messenger, who reports to the queen\nthe disaster which has befallen the Persian fleet, sets it down to\nsupernatural agency:\n\n    \u1f26\u03c1\u03be\u03b5\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f66 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\n    \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 \u1f22 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd[1183].\n\nThis has generally been taken to mean that the beginning of the\ndisaster was due to the sudden appearance of \u2018some vengeful or\nmalicious deity.\u2019 But elsewhere in Tragedy \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 is treated not as\nadjective but as substantive; and, since there is no compulsion to\nsuppose other than the ordinary use of the word here, it appears better\nto translate the phrase \u2018some Avenger or some malicious god.\u2019 In other\nwords the real, if unemphatic, contrast implied in the phrase is not\nbetween \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 and \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2--no contrast is possible there[1184]--but\nbetween \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 and \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd. The inference therefore is rather that the\n_Alastor_ in this passage was not conceived as a deity.\n\nThere are other passages of Greek Tragedy also in which the balance\nof probability seems to me to incline towards interpreting the name\n_Alastor_ in the sense of a _revenant_ and not of a god. Two such occur\nin the _Medea_ of Euripides--the same play, be it noted, which contains\nthat perfectly plain statement that the dead children of Medea are\nthemselves the _Miastores_ who will punish her. The first is in the\nscene in which Medea works herself up to the perpetration of her crime.\nPassionate love of her children, passionate jealousy and fury against\ntheir father, alternate in tragic turmoil, until the tense agony of\nspirit is let loose in that fierce oath,\n\n    \u2018No, by the Avengers that lurk deep in hell,\n    Ne\u2019er shall it come to pass that I should leave\n    My children to mine enemies\u2019 despite.\n    Most surely they must die; and since they must,\n    \u2019Twas my womb bare them, \u2019tis my hand shall slay[1185].\u2019\n\nStrong and terrible would be the oath even if the _Alastores_,\nwhose wrath Medea thus defies, were gods or spirits; but the force\nand the horror are doubled, if the _Alastores_ here are of the same\norder as those whom Jason names _Miastores_ but a little later in the\nsame drama, and if therefore among those Avengers, in whose name the\nmurderous oath was sworn, were soon to be numbered those very children\nwhom Medea loved best and yet bound herself to slay most foully.\n\nThe second passage occurs in Jason\u2019s outburst of fury against Medea\nwhen he first learns her crime. \u2018\u2019Tis thine Avenger whom the gods have\nlet light on me; for truly thou didst slay thine own brother at his\nown hearth, or ever thou didst set foot in Argo\u2019s shapely hull[1186].\u2019\nSurely we are meant to understand that the dead Absyrtus is himself\nthe _Alastor_--for one _Alastor_ only is named this time, and that\ntoo as distinct from the gods (\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af)--and that Jason diverted to\nhimself a portion of the dead man\u2019s wrath by wedding the blood-guilty\nwoman. Again then the interpretation of _Alastor_ in the same sense in\nwhich, only a little later in the same scene, _Miastor_ is undoubtedly\nemployed is, if not necessary, yet vastly preferable.\n\nTo review here all the passages of Greek Tragedy in which the word may\nadvantageously be so understood, when at the same time no single one of\nthem constitutes a final proof of my view, would be to encumber this\nenquiry to no purpose; but I may perhaps be permitted to select one\ninstance from a story of blood-guilt other than that of which Medea is\nthe centre.\n\nThis shall be from that scene in the _Hercules Furens_ in which the\nhero, sane now and overwhelmed with horror at the ghastly slaughter of\nhis own children which in a moment of sudden madness he had wrought,\nreceives from Theseus some measure of consolation and advice. Early in\nthat colloquy, ere yet Theseus has had time to soothe the sufferings or\nto guide the course of his stricken friend, Heracles cries to him in\nbitterness of soul,\n\n    Theseus, hast view\u2019d my triumph o\u2019er my children?\n\nand Theseus answers with gentle simplicity,\n\n    I heard, and now I see the woes thou showst me.\n\nAnd then follow the lines:\n\n    \u0397\u03a1. \u03c4\u03af \u03b4\u1fc6\u03c4\u03ac \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03c5\u03c8\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bb\u03af\u1ff3;\n    \u0398\u0397. \u03c4\u03af \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50; \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b8\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f62\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd;\n    \u0397\u03a1. \u03c6\u03b5\u1fe6\u03b3\u2019, \u1f66 \u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03c0\u03c9\u03c1\u2019, \u1f00\u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd.\n    \u0398\u0397. \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd[1187].\n\n    _Her._ Why then hast bared my head before the Sun?\n    _Thes._ Nay, wherefore not? canst thou--mere man--taint godhead?\n    _Her._ Yet flee thyself, risk not my taint of blood-guilt.\n    _Thes._ Where love joins, bloodshed to no vengeance moves.\n\nIt is the connexion and significance of the last two lines which I\nwish briefly to discuss. Theseus has used the word \u2018taint\u2019 (\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2),\nand Heracles at once seizes on it, emphasizes it, and warns his friend\nto begone lest he be contaminated; and then Theseus answers (to give\na literal rendering) \u2018No Avenger of blood proceeds from them that\nlove against them that love.\u2019 What does this mean? The line is often\ntranslated as if Theseus meant, \u2018No, I will stay, for though an Avenger\nof blood may probably pursue you, Heracles, I have no fear that he will\ntouch me who love you as a friend[1188].\u2019 A generous and sympathetic\nutterance indeed! And how consistent with that fine burst of feeling\nwith which he had but a moment before refused to be warned away:\n\n    \u2018Why warn\u2019st thou me of blood with hand uplift?\n    In fear lest I be tainted by thy speech?\n    Nought reck I of ill fortune at thy side\n    Where once \u2019twas good; that hour must draw my heart\n    When thou didst bring me safe from death to light;\n    Nay, I hate friends whose gratitude grows old,\n    I hate the man that will enjoy good hap\n    But will not face foul weather with his friend[1189].\u2019\n\nIs this the man whose words, spoken but a moment later, shall be\ninterpreted to mean, \u2018I will not run away, because the danger that\nthreatens my friend cannot hurt me\u2019? The thought is deeper, more\ngenerous, than that. Theseus is thinking not of himself, but of his\nfriend. It is the word \u2018pollution,\u2019 used first by himself and caught\nup by Heracles, which arrests his attention. Was his friend \u2018polluted\u2019\nby a deed of blood, wrought in madness, expiated in tears? Polluted?\nYes, in the sense that religious purification was required[1190]. He\ncannot deny the pollution. But could the deed also be punished as the\nmurder of close kinsfolk was wont to be punished? Could the children,\nalbeit slain by their own father\u2019s hand, desire revenge upon him who\nloved them and was loved of them? \u2018No,\u2019 he answers boldly, \u2018pollution\n(\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1) there is, but no _Alastor_, no Avenger of blood, can come from\nthem that love against them that love.\u2019 How then does Theseus picture\nthe _Alastor_ who, but for the bond of love between the father and his\ndead children, would seek vengeance for their death? The phrase which\nhe uses is ambiguous--perhaps deliberately ambiguous--\u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 ... \u1f10\u03ba\n\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd. It may mean equally well \u2018no one of those who love\u2019 or \u2018no\none coming from those who love.\u2019 But when the close correspondence of\n\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, \u2018pollution,\u2019 and \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 \u2018avenger,\u2019 is noted in this passage,\nand when it is also remembered that the dead children of Medea are\nelsewhere plainly named _Miastores_, it is hard to suppose that an\naudience familiar with the belief that the dead themselves avenged\ntheir own wrongs would not have interpreted the ambiguous phrase\nto mean \u2018none of these children shall rise up from the grave as an\n_Alastor_, for love is stronger than vengeance.\u2019\n\nBut such doubt as still remains is set at rest when we turn from the\nusage of the word _Alastor_ to its origin and enquire how it obtained\nthe sense of \u2018Avenger.\u2019 What is its derivation?\n\nTwo conjectures seem to have been made by the ancients and are recorded\nby early commentators and lexicographers[1191]. The one connects the\nword with the root of \u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9, \u2018I escape notice,\u2019 and extracts a\nmeaning in a variety of ways, leaving it open to choice, for example,\nwhether it shall mean a god whose notice nothing escapes or a man\nwho commits acts which cannot escape some god\u2019s notice. The other\nconjecture refers the word to the root of \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018I wander.\u2019 It is\nbetween these two proposed derivations that our choice lies; nor can we\nobtain much help from the greatest modern authorities. Curtius[1192]\nunhesitatingly adopts the latter, Brugmann[1193] the former, nor does\neither of them so much as mention the possibility of the alternative.\nI must therefore discuss the question without reference to these\nauthorities, knowing that, if I run counter to the one, I have the\ncountenance of the other.\n\nIs then \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, in the sense of a \u2018non-forgetter,\u2019 a possible\nformation from the root of \u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9? My own answer to that question\nis a decided negative, and my reasons are as follows. Substantives\ndenoting the agent and formed with the suffix -\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 (-\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1-) can only be\nso formed direct from a verb-stem, as \u1fe5\u03ae\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 from \u03dd\u03c1\u03b5 or \u03dd\u03b5\u03c1 appearing\nin \u1f10\u03c1\u1ff6 etc., \u03bc\u03ae\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 from the stem of \u03bc\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, \u1f00\u03c6\u03ae\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 answering to the\nverb \u1f00\u03c6\u03af\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b2\u03ae\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 to \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9. It is among these and other such\nexamples that Brugmann places the anomalous \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, to be connected\nwith \u1f04\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03c9. But evidently, in order that \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 may be\nparallel, let us say, to \u1f00\u03c6\u03ae\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, we must postulate the existence of\nan impossible verb \u1f00-\u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03c9 or \u1f00-\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018I non-forget.\u2019 Nor would\nit mend matters to suppose, first, the formation, direct from \u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03c9,\nof a _nomen agentis_ of the form \u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, a \u2018forgetter\u2019; for the\nprivative \u1f00- appears only in adjectives and adverbs and in such verbs\nand substantives as are formed directly from them, as \u1f00\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd from\n\u1f00\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd etc., and cannot be prefixed at pleasure to a substantive\nor verb not so formed; \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 could no more be formed from an\nhypothetical substantive \u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1[1194], than could an hypothetical\nverb \u1f00-\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 be formed from \u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9. Etymologically then\nthe derivation of \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 from \u1f00- privative and the root of \u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03c9 is\nimpossible, and its sense of \u2018Avenger\u2019 was not developed from the\nmeaning \u2018one who does not forget.\u2019\n\nOn the other hand, to the connexion of \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 with the verb \u1f00\u03bb\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9,\n\u2018to wander,\u2019 no exception can be taken. Not only is the formation\nsimple, but an exact parallel is forthcoming. As the substantive\n\u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 stands to the verb \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9, so does the substantive \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1\nstand to a by-form of \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, which is fairly frequent in Tragedy,\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9[1195]. It follows then that \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 meant originally a\n\u2018wanderer.\u2019\n\nBut, when once that primary meaning is discovered, there can be no\nfurther doubt as to the primary application of the term. Of the three\npossible exactors of vengeance--the _revenant_ himself, some demonic\nagent, and the nearest kinsman--the first alone could be aptly\ndescribed as a \u2018wanderer\u2019; moreover we know that the murdered man was\nactually so conceived, and that, among the punishments by which he\nsought to make his murderer suffer the same lot as he himself endured,\none of the most conspicuous was the punishment of wandering and exile.\nThe name _Alastor_ therefore, like _Miastor_, denoted first of all the\ndead man himself, and was only secondarily extended to human or divine\nagents seeking vengeance on his behalf.\n\nIt remains only to enquire how the meaning \u2018Avenger\u2019 was evolved from\nthe meaning \u2018Wanderer,\u2019 and so completely superseded it that the name\n_Alastores_ was extended to those agents who were in no obvious sense\n\u2018Wanderers\u2019 but simply \u2018Avengers.\u2019\n\nThe first occurrence of the word is in the _Iliad_, as the proper name\nof a Greek warrior[1196]. This fact tends to show that the word had as\nyet acquired none of that ill-omened sense which it undoubtedly bears\nin Greek Tragedy. It was used rather, we may believe, in its original\nand literal sense of \u2018wanderer,\u2019 and the adoption of such a word as\na proper name is entirely consistent with the principles of Homeric\nnomenclature. Hector, Nestor, M\u0113stor, are famous names of the same\nclass.\n\nOtherwise than as a proper name the word is not used in Homer, nor\ndoes it occur at all again, so far as I am aware, before the time\nof Aeschylus. It is during this interval then that the evolution of\nmeaning must have taken place; for by the age of Aeschylus the idea of\nvengeance--and vengeance of a horrible kind--had become the ordinary\nsignification of the word. My view then is that the intervening\ncenturies had witnessed a gradual differentiation of the several words\nwhich alike originally meant a \u2018wanderer,\u2019 a differentiation such that\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 remained the ordinary and general term, while \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 was little\nby little restricted to the wanderer from the dead, the _revenant_; and\nthat subsequently from meaning a _revenant_ of any and every kind it\nbecame limited to that single class of _revenants_ whose wanderings\nwere guided by the desire for revenge--the class to whom the name\n_Miastores_ had always belonged.\n\nSome evidence for the first stage in this development of meaning is\nfurnished by the Tragic usage of the verb from which the substantive\nis derived; for in both its forms, \u1f00\u03bb\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 and \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, it continued\nto be applied to any of the restless dead, when the substantive\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, as I conceive, had come to be appropriated to the Avenger\nonly. Indeed it might almost be thought that both Aeschylus and\nEuripides had an inkling of the derivation and earlier meaning of the\nsubstantive; for while idiom debarred them from using \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 in the\nlarge sense of any _revenant_, they certainly used the corresponding\nverb in contexts which suggest that those who thus \u2018wander\u2019 were not\nimagined by them as vague impalpable ghosts, but possessed for them\nrather the real substance and physical traits of a _revenant_. Thus in\nthe _Eumenides_, though Clytemnestra could not be permitted to play\nthe part of a _revenant_ and appears only as a ghost, yet the more\ngross and popular conception of her is clearly present to the poet\u2019s\nmind. Though a ghost, she points to the wounds which her son\u2019s hands\ninflicted[1197]; though a ghost, she is made to exhort the Erinyes to\nvengeance \u2018on behalf of her very soul\u2019 (\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bc\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1fc6\u03c2)[1198].\nStrange gestures and strange language indeed, if the so-called ghost\nhad been conceived as a mere disembodied soul! But the popular\nconception of the _revenant_ penetrated even here. And was it not the\nsame conception which suggested the phrase \u03b1\u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018I wander\nin dishonour[1199]\u2019? In the popular belief, as we know, the murderer\nwas bound to wander after death, suffering as he had wrought; and it\nis as a murderess[1200] that Clytemnestra avows herself condemned\nto shameful wanderings. \u2018To wander,\u2019 \u1f00\u03bb\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, sums up the suffering\nwhich the murderer, like his victim, must incur after death. It is\nlikely then that the name \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 too was originally applied to any\n\u2018wanderer\u2019--whether murderer or murdered--before it acquired the\nconnotation of vindictiveness and so became appropriated to the latter\nonly.\n\nAgain Euripides uses the same verb of one whose body has not received\nburial. This time there is no connexion with blood-guilt at all, but\nthe lines are simply the plaint of captive wife for husband slain in\nbattle: \u2018oh beloved, oh husband mine, dead art thou and wanderest\nunburied, unwatered with tears\u2019--\u03c3\u1f7a \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c6\u03b8\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f04\u03b8\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u1f04\u03bd\u03c5\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2[1201]. \u2018To wander unburied\u2019--could there be a simpler\ndescription of a _revenant_? Does not the whole misery of the unburied\ndead consist in this--that they must wander? It is almost inconceivable\nthen that the name _Alastor_, \u2018wanderer,\u2019 should have been originally\napplied only to a single class of the wandering dead--to those whose\nwanderings were directed towards vengeance, and not also to those whose\nwanderings were more aimless, more pitiable, whose whole existence\nmight have been summed up in that one word \u2018wandering.\u2019 At some time\nthen between the age of Homer and that of Aeschylus _Alastor_, I hold,\nmeant simply _revenant_.\n\nHow then shall we explain that caprice of language which, according\nto this Tragic usage, permitted all the unhappy dead to be said\n\u2018to wander\u2019 (\u1f00\u03bb\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd), but apparently forbade them to be\ncollectively named \u2018wanderers\u2019 (\u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2)? How did _Alastor_ acquire\nits sense of \u2018Avenger\u2019 and become restricted to one class of _revenant_\nonly?\n\nIt might be sufficient answer to point out that those _revenants_\nwho were bent on avenging their own wrongs are likely always to have\noccupied a prominent place in popular superstition simply because\nthey inspired most terror in the popular mind; other _revenants_ were\nharmless, and, as harmless, liable to be little regarded and seldom\nnamed; and the most conspicuous class might thus have appropriated to\nitself the name which properly belonged to all. But there is another\ninfluence which, if it did not cause, may at least have facilitated and\nquickened the change--the influence of the word \u1f04\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018unforgotten,\u2019\nwhich, as I have noted above, was commonly and naturally, in an age\nwhen etymology was not science but guess-work, connected with \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1.\nEtymologically the two words have nothing in common; but that is no\nobstacle to the supposition that, in their usage, their casual but\nclose similarity of form rendered the meaning of the one susceptible\nto the influence of the other. Nay more, the fact that the two words,\nit matters not how erroneously, were actually in early times referred\nto a common origin[1202] warrants the suggestion that such influence\nhad been exercised. Now \u1f04\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 always remained in meaning true to\nits derivation. Itself employed in the passive sense, \u2018unforgotten,\u2019\nit seems to have made over the active meaning, \u2018unforgetting,\u2019\n\u2018vindictive\u2019 (which, on the analogy of \u1f04\u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 and a score of similar\nforms, it should naturally have possessed), to the apparently kindred\nword \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1. This adventitious meaning accorded well with the popular\nconception of the most conspicuous class of \u2018wanderers\u2019 from the\ngrave--those whose wanderings had a vindictive aim; and thus, by the\nhelp of the accidental resemblance of two words, it seems to have\ncome to pass that the term _Alastores_ ceased to be applicable to all\nkinds of _revenants_ and denoted only the \u2018Avengers.\u2019 At this point\nit became in fact synonymous with _Miastores_, and, like that word,\nenlarged its scope so as to denote not only the prime Avenger, the\n_revenant_ himself, but also any divine or human agents employed by him\nas subsidiary Avengers.\n\nSo much then for the first meaning which the lexicons attach to the\nwords _Alastor_ and _Miastor_; the second interpretation of them, in\nrelation to a blood-guilty man, may be more briefly treated. _Alastor_\nin this passive sense is alleged to mean a man who suffers from the\nvengeance of one who is an _Alastor_ in the active sense; and _Miastor_\nto mean a man who is himself polluted and therefore pollutes those with\nwhom he associates.\n\nAs regards _Alastor_, this explanation stands already condemned by\nthe fact that it pre-supposes the derivation from \u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, and\neven then it does fresh and incredible violence to language; a sane\nphilologist may commit the error of deriving \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 from \u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\nand making it mean \u2018one who does not forget\u2019; but only the maddest\ncould dream of interpreting it as \u2018one who does deeds which others\ndo not forget.\u2019 But, if in spite of this we trouble to turn up the\nreferences which the lexicons give under this heading, it is obvious\nat once that there is no more support for such a meaning in idiomatic\nusage than in etymological origin. Three references are cited. The\nfirst is to that passage of the _Eumenides_ in which Orestes declares\nhimself \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd[1203], a phrase which means, as I\nhave already shown, \u2018an avenger, not a murderer.\u2019 This then should\nbe classified as an example of the active, not of the hypothetical\npassive, meaning of _Alastor_. Of the other two passages, one is from\nthe _Ajax_ of Sophocles, where the hero in his anger and despair\nspeaks of the guileful enemies who robbed him of his prize as\n_Alastores_[1204], and the other a passage from Demosthenes in which\nhe criticizes Aeschines for applying the word as an opprobrious name\nto Philip of Macedon[1205]. But in what possible sense could either\nAjax\u2019 enemies or Philip of Macedon be described as \u2018suffering from\nAvengers\u2019? On the contrary, at the times when the word _Alastor_ was\napplied to them, their success should surely have suggested that they\nwere favoured by heaven, and their opponents rather were the sufferers.\nWhat then was the meaning of the word thus opprobriously employed?\nA meaning, I answer, very little removed from that of \u2018Avenger\u2019 and\narising out of it. For how was the Avenger--be he the _revenant_\nhimself or a demon acting on his behalf--constantly pictured? Was it\nnot as a fiend tormenting with every torment the object of his wrath,\nplaguing him, maddening him, sucking his very blood? Little wonder\nthen if the justice of that vengeance was sometimes obscured in men\u2019s\nminds by their horror of it, and if the word _Alastor_ suggested to\nthem a fiend, a merciless tormentor. In that sense Ajax might well\napply the name to his enemies, and Aeschines to Philip. Nor are other\ninstances of it lacking. Demosthenes himself, for all his criticism of\nAeschines\u2019 vulgarity in calling Philip \u03b2\u03ac\u03c1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1, \u2018a\nforeign devil,\u2019 used the same word of Aeschines and his friends[1206];\nagain, in Sophocles, the lion of Nemea for the loss and havoc that he\ninflicted is unique among beasts that perish in having merited the same\nsorry title--\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, the \u2018herdsmen\u2019s Tormentor[1207]\u2019; and\nindeed, apart from living men and animals, there are many instances in\nTragedy[1208] in which the word _Alastor_, applied to some supernatural\nfoe, _revenant_ or demon, may be more appropriately rendered by \u2018fiend\u2019\nor \u2018tormentor\u2019 than by \u2018avenger.\u2019\n\nAnd the same thing is true, I hold, of the word _Miastor_. The\ntheory of the lexicons, namely, that the word denotes a polluted\nand blood-guilty man because such an one is inevitably a \u2018polluter\u2019\nof others, is certainly not intrinsically bad; for it recognises the\nprimary meaning of the word, \u2018polluter,\u2019 and bases the secondary\nmeaning \u2018polluted\u2019 upon a right understanding of the old belief that\npollution was contagious. But at the same time it gives some occasion\nto wonder why the word should have been diverted from its most natural\nmeaning in order to denote that which the cognate word \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 already\nexpressed more simply. Moreover, when examination is made of those\npassages which are claimed as examples of such an usage, the theory\nbecomes wholly unnecessary. The two most specious examples are two\npassages from Aeschylus[1209] and Euripides[1210], in both of which\nthe persons called _Miastores_ are Aegisthus and Clytemnestra. Now the\nauthors of Agamemnon\u2019s death were certainly polluted, and might with\njustice have been called \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03af--that is admitted. But because they\nmight have been called \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03af and actually are called \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2, it\ndoes not follow that, though the words have the same root, they also\nbear the same meaning. Obviously the word \u2018fiends,\u2019 if \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2 ever\nhas that sense, would be an equally apt description of the murderous\npair. The choice therefore between these two renderings here must be\nguided by more certain examples of usage elsewhere.\n\nTwo may be selected as eminently clear. In one Orestes calls Helen \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd\n\u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1[1211], where the word cannot mean a \u2018polluted wretch,\u2019\nfor the construction postulates an active meaning in _Miastor_; nor\nyet can the phrase be intelligibly rendered \u2018the polluter of Greece,\u2019\nfor there was no pollution involved in the warfare which Helen had\ncaused; clearly Orestes means \u2018the tormentor of Greece,\u2019 the fiend who\nhad proved the bane of ships and men and cities. In the other passage\nPeleus applies the word to Menelaus: \u2018I look upon thee,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018as on the murderer--the fiend-like destroyer (\u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u2019 \u1f65\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1)--of\nAchilles[1212].\u2019 Here again _Miastor_ clearly bears an active sense,\nand at the same time cannot be rendered \u2018polluter.\u2019 Menelaus had\nbrought upon Achilles not pollution but death, and the word _Miastor_\nexplains the word \u2018murderer\u2019 (\u03b1\u1f50\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd) which precedes it--explains\nthat the murder laid to Menelaus\u2019 charge was not the open violence of\na stronger foe, but resembled the death-dealing of some lurking fiend.\nIn these two passages then the interpretation of _Miastor_ in the sense\nof \u2018fiend,\u2019 \u2018tormentor,\u2019 \u2018destroyer,\u2019 is necessary and proven; and,\nthis being known, common reason bids us read more ambiguous scriptures\nin the light thus obtained. There is therefore no call to suppose\nthat \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 ever meant \u2018polluted\u2019; from the active meaning \u2018Avenger\u2019\nit developed, like _Alastor_, the broader sense of \u2018Tormentor\u2019 or\n\u2018Fiendish Destroyer\u2019; and these meanings completely satisfy the\nconditions of Tragic and other usage of the words.\n\nThere remains the word \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, to which the lexicons, I admit,\nrightly ascribe a twofold meaning. It is clearly used both of the\nAvenger of blood and also of the blood-guilty person who is seeking\npurification. But as regards both the means by which the first\nsignification was obtained, and the primary application of the word\nin that signification, I join issue. The second meaning is more\nsatisfactorily explained, and my criticism of it will not go beyond an\nalternative suggestion.\n\nThe lexicons elucidate the first meaning as follows: _he to whom one\nturns_, especially with supplications, \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2 or \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\nthe god _to whom the murdered person turns_ for vengeance, hence _an\navenger_, like \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 ... hence also of the _manes_ of murdered\npersons, _visiting with vengeance, implacable_.\n\nThe objections to this explanation are obvious. It may well be\nquestioned whether \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 is at all likely to have had any\npassive meaning--as it were a person who \u2018is turned to\u2019--when the\nverb \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9 itself was, so far as I can ascertain, never so used;\nand further, if a god had really been called \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 because the\nmurdered man turned for vengeance to him, the extension of the term to\nthe _manes_ of murdered persons must imply a conception of the murdered\nman turning for vengeance towards--himself. This is not a little\ncumbrous; and for my part I deny the existence of any passive sense of\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nI do however find two senses of the word, the one active, corresponding\nto the transitive use of the verb \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd or \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 (for the\nmiddle as well as the active voice might be used transitively, as will\nshortly appear), the other middle, corresponding to the ordinary usage\nof the middle \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9. Thus the active meaning of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\nwill be _turning_ something _towards_ or _against_ someone; the middle\nmeaning, _turning oneself towards_ someone.\n\nThe active usage is best illustrated by a passage of Aeschines, in\nwhich he accuses Demosthenes of wilful perjury in calumniating him, and\nthen appeals to the jury in these words--\u1f10\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd (\u03bc\u1f74 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2) \u1f10\u03bd \u1f51\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c6\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9[1213]; \u2018Will\nyou then allow this perjurer, who has turned upon his own head (for I\npray that it be not on the city) the anger of the gods in whose name he\nswore, to continue in your midst?\u2019 Here the very brevity of the Greek,\nwhich I am compelled to expand in translation, proves that Aeschines\u2019\naudience were perfectly familiar with an active meaning of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\nwith an evil connotation, \u2018turning some misfortune or punishment or\nvengeance upon someone.\u2019\n\nThe middle sense of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 is equally clearly exhibited by\nAeschylus, who in telling the story of Thyestes says that after\nhis banishment by his brother Atreus he came again \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\n\u1f11\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2[1214], \u2018turning himself (as a suppliant) towards the hearth\u2019\nof his father\u2019s home, so that his own life at least was spared out of\nrespect for the place.\n\nThus the two meanings of the word are established, and it remains only\nto show how they were specially used in connexion with blood-guilt.\n\nIn the active sense \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 was primarily applied, I hold, like\n_Miastor_ and _Alastor_, to the murdered man himself, who \u2018turned\u2019\nhis wrath \u2018against\u2019 the murderer, or, if it so happened, against the\nnext of kin who had failed in his duty of bringing the murderer to\njustice. It is precisely thus that Plato uses the verb \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\nin recording the old tradition in which he apparently reposed so much\nfaith as to base his own laws upon it. \u2018If the nearest of kin,\u2019 so\nruns the passage, \u2018do not seek vengeance for the deed, it is held\nthat the pollution devolves upon him, and that _the sufferer_ (i.e.\nthe dead man) _turns upon him the suffering_ (i.e. that which the\nhomicide himself should have incurred), and anyone who will may bring\na suit against him, etc.[1215]\u2019 The words which I have italicised are\nin the Greek \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd, where the middle\npresumably was preferred to the active because the sufferings which\nthe dead man inflicts are, as we already know and as the language of\nthe particular phrase itself suggests, exactly those which he himself\nsuffers. This usage of the verb, though it is distinctly rare and\nprobably a technicality of religion or law, is so perfectly clear\nin this one example[1216], that there should be no hesitation about\nunderstanding the cognate word \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 in the same sense. And\nindeed one lexicographer, Photius, shows that he did so understand\nit; for he tells us that Zeus was sometimes invoked under this title,\nas turning against murderers the pollution (including perhaps the\npunishments) of their crime: \u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 ... \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f41 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\n\u1f04\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 (sc. \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2)[1217]--such are his actual words,\nand this time of course the verb is rightly in the active, for Zeus\nis in no way personally concerned but acts only in the interests of\nthe dead man. Clearly then it was in virtue of this active meaning\nthat \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 came to be practically a synonym of _Miastor_ and\n_Alastor_ in the sense of an Avenger of blood.\n\nOnce more then we return to the same question which has been propounded\nand answered with regard to those two other names--to whom was the term\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 primarily applied?\n\nI find the application of it more restricted than that of the other two\nwords. It was used of the dead man himself, and it was used of demons\navenging his cause; but it was never used[1218] of the next of kin in\nthe character of avenger--and that for the very good reason that when\nthe word was applied to a living man it bore an entirely different\nmeaning, which has yet to be discussed, the meaning of \u2018blood-guilty.\u2019\n\nA few examples of each usage must be given. Both Antiphon and Aeschylus\napply the word to murdered men; Antiphon, in a speech in which the\nkinsman, who has, as in duty bound, undertaken the prosecution of the\nmurderer, claims that, if the jury wrongfully acquit, the dead man\nwill not become \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, an Avenger, against his kinsmen who have\ndone their best in his service, but will visit his anger on the jury\nfor condoning and thereby sharing the blood-guilt[1219]; Aeschylus,\nin that list of penalties which has been discussed, when he depicts\nthe \u2018madness and vain terror,\u2019 which will befall Orestes if he fail in\nhis task, as an arrow that flieth in darkness sped by powers of hell\n\u2018at the behest of fallen kindred that turn their vengeance upon him\u2019\n(\u1f10\u03ba \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd[1220]). But equally clearly in\nother passages the Avenger indicated is not the murdered man, but some\ndivine being. Antiphon again is an authority for this usage. Twice,\nin a context similar to that which has just been noticed, he speaks\nnot of the murdered man himself becoming an Avenger, but of certain\ndivine powers--whom he also calls \u1f00\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9, the powers that deal with\nsin--acting as Avengers (\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9) of the dead[1221]. And similarly\nin later time Pausanias also speaks of \u2018the pollution (\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1) incurred\nby Pelops and of the Avenger (\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2) of Myrtilus[1222].\u2019\n\nSince then there is no question but that the word \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 was\nactually applied both to dead men and to gods, to which of the two did\nit refer primarily? We already know the answer. The dead man himself,\nas a _revenant_, was the prime and proper Avenger of his own wrongs;\ndemons of vengeance acted only in his name, as his subordinates and\nagents. To him therefore the name primarily belonged. And even if\nwe had not already learnt this from other sources, the passage of\nAeschylus, to which I have just referred, might well guide us to the\nsame conclusion. The arrow that flieth in darkness is sped indeed, he\nsays, \u2018by powers of hell\u2019 (\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd)--the demonic agents of the\ndead--but \u2018at the behest of fallen kindred.\u2019 The activity both of the\nprincipal and of the agent is recognised in the same passage, and\neither might have been called \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2: but, because the activity\nof both was plainly asserted, Aeschylus reserved the name for the one\nto whom it primarily belonged, the murdered man, who turns his wrath,\nwho turns indeed those powers of hell who execute his wrath, against\nhis enemies.\n\nThere now remains for consideration only the second meaning of\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2; how could a word, which in reference to dead men or to\ndeities meant \u2018an Avenger of blood,\u2019 bear, in relation to living men,\nthe sense of \u2018blood-guilty\u2019? Very likely the dictionaries are right\nin accepting the explanation of this use which Hesychius[1223] and\nothers give. We have seen one case[1224] in which the word clearly\nhas a middle sense \u2018turning oneself towards\u2019 a place or a person in\nsupplication; and there is no difficulty in supposing that the word was\nused technically in the same sense of a blood-guilty man who turned\nto some god or to some sanctuary in quest of purification. This, I\nsay, is very probably the right explanation. But I may perhaps offer\nan alternative explanation which I do not count preferable but merely\npossible. The active meaning of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018turning something upon\nsomeone,\u2019 might conceivably have produced this sense of \u2018blood-guilty\u2019\nas well as the other sense \u2018an Avenger of blood.\u2019 As the dead man was\nheld to turn something, namely his wrath, against his enemy, so might\nthe murderer have been pictured as trying to turn something, namely the\npollution which he had incurred, upon some object and so to cleanse\nhimself therefrom. Now the chief feature in the Delphic ceremony of\npurification was the slaying of a sucking-pig[1225]. This may of course\nhave been merely a propitiatory sacrifice; but it is possible also that\nthe animal was really a surrogate victim for the murderer himself,\nthat by laying his polluted hand on its head he transferred the\nreligious uncleanness from himself to it, and that, by the subsequent\nslaughter of the now blood-guilty animal, he vicariously satisfied the\nold law that blood could only be washed out by blood. This is only a\nconjecture, and I leave others to judge of its probability; but, if the\nceremony had followed the lines which I have suggested, it is easily\nintelligible that, in the technical language of religion, the murderer\nwho sought to turn his own pollution upon the victim might have been\ncalled \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nThus then the problem of the ancient nomenclature of _revenants_\nis solved, and the results are briefly these: all _revenants_ were\noriginally called \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2, \u2018Wanderers\u2019; but subsequently that name\nwas restricted only to the vengeful class of _revenants_, to which the\nnames \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2 and \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 had always belonged; and for the more\nharmless and purely pitiable _revenants_ no name remained, but men said\nof such an one simply, \u2018He wanders.\u2019\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[959] Heard by me from a fisherman of Myconos.\n\n[960] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. pp. 573 and 593.\n\n[961] The list of dialectic forms compiled by Bern. Schmidt (_das\nVolksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 158) comprises, besides that which\nI have adopted as in my experience the most general, the following:\n\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03b8\u03c1\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2,\n\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b4\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2. To these may be added \u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 from Syme\n(\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. 601), \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, from Cythnos (\u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2,\n\u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 125), and an occasional diminutive form such as \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9.\nThe \u03ba is often doubled in spelling.\n\n[962] A plural in -\u03bf\u03b9, -\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, with accent either paroxytone or\nproparoxytone, also occurs.\n\n[963] _De quorumdam Graecorum opinationibus_, cap. 12 sqq.\n\n[964] \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f10\u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03c1\u03b9\u03b6\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03af\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1, leg. \u1f10\u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03c1\u03b9\u03b6\u03b1\u03bd.\n\n[965] For these memorial services (\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1) and the appropriate\nfuneral-meats (\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1) see below, pp. 534 ff.\n\n[966] The reference given by Allatius is to _Turco-Grecia_, Bk 8, but I\ncannot find the passage.\n\n[967] With this description compare a phrase used in a recent\nAthenian account of a _vrykolakas_, \u03c3\u1f70\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bc\u03b9, \u2018like a (distended)\nwine-skin,\u2019 \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4. I. 575.\n\n[968] See p. 339.\n\n[969] _Relation de ce qui s\u2019est pass\u00e9 de plus remarquable a Sant-Erini\nIsle de l\u2019Archipel, depuis l\u2019\u00e9tablissement des Peres de la compagnie de\nJesus en icelle_ (Paris, MDCLVII.), cap. XV. pp. 208-226.\n\n[970] In many places at the present day it is believed that\n_vrykolakes_ (and sometimes other supernatural beings) cannot cross\nsalt water. Hence to bury (not burn) the corpse in an island is often\nheld sufficient.\n\n[971] Some modern authorities state that Turks are believed to be\nmore subject to become _vrykolakes_ than Christians. Schmidt (_Das\nVolksleben_, p. 162) appears to me to overstate this point of view,\nwhich I should judge to be rarer and more local than its contrary. Even\nwhere found, it is unimportant, being a mere invention of priestcraft\nfor purposes of intimidation. See below, pp. 400 and 409.\n\n[972] Evidently a local form of \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03af (= \u03c4\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, cf. Du Cange, _Med.\net infim. Graec._, s.v. \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2), with metathesis of the nasal. Cf.\nthe word \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 above.\n\n[973] To this phrase I return later.\n\n[974] leg. \u1f04\u03c3\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[975] _Histoire nouvelle des anciens ducs et autres souverains de\nl\u2019Archipel_, pp. 255-6 (Paris, 1699).\n\n[976] _Voyage du Levant_, I. pp. 158 ff. (Lyon, 1717). Cf. also\nSalonis, _Voyage \u00e0 Tine_ (Paris, 1809), translated by \u0394. \u039c. \u039c\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c2,\nas \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03a4\u03ae\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5, pp. 105 ff.\n\n[977] Paul Lucas, _Voyage du Levant_ (la Haye, 1705), vol. II. pp.\n209-210.\n\n[978] Cf. Tournefort, _Voyage du Levant_, I. p. 164 (Lyon, 1717).\n\n[979] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4\u03ce\u03bd. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 125.\n\n[980] \u0393\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3. \u03a0\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a3\u03c6\u03b1\u03ba\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, pp. 72-3.\n\n[981] The writer points out in a note the correspondence of the number\nof priests who assemble for \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, the anointing of the sick\nwith oil.\n\n[982] The Cretan word used throughout this passage is \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd-\u1fb6\u03c2 (plur.\n-\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2), on which see below, p. 382.\n\n[983] \u03b4\u03b9\u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03c3\u1fc3. I have given what I take to be the meaning of a\npopular word otherwise unknown to me.\n\n[984] \u1fb9\u03bd\u03c4. \u039c\u03b7\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f59\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u039a\u03c5\u03ba\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd.--\u1f0c\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u039a\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2, p. 56.\n\n[985] Good examples may be found in Bern. Schmidt, _M\u00e4rchen_, etc., no.\n7, and \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. 590 sqq.\n\n[986] _The Cyclades_, p. 299.\n\n[987] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 577.\n\n[988] _Ibid._, p. 578.\n\n[989] In Scyros and in Cythnos, as I have noted above, this means of\nriddance has given place to milder remedies. But in the former I heard\nof fairly recent cases of vampirism, and in the latter, according to\n\u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 (\u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 125), the names of several persons (including\none woman) who became _vrykolakes_ are still remembered.\n\n[990] Communicated to me by word of mouth in Maina.\n\n[991] \u1f11\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 (see above, p. 208), who are commonly regarded as\nsubject to lycanthropy in life and continue the same predatory habits\nas vampires after death.\n\n[992] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 162 (from Ar\u00e1chova).\n\n[993] This belief belongs chiefly, in my experience, to the Cyclades.\n\n[994] Curt. Wachsmuth, _Das alte Griechenland im Neuen_, p. 117 (from\nElis).\n\n[995] _Ibid._ p. 114 (from Elis). Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 162\n(Parnassus district). \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. 578 (Cal\u00e1vryta).\n\n[996] _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 170.\n\n[997] This derivation is reviewed and rejected by Bern. Schmidt, _Das\nVolksleben_ etc., p. 158.\n\n[998] Cf. Miklosich, _Etym. W\u00f6rterbuch d. Slav. Spr._, p. 380, s.v.\n*velk\u016d, Old Slav., vl\u044ak\u044a, _wolf_....\n\nOld Slav., vl\u042akodlak\u042a; Slovenian, volkodlak, vukodlak, vulkodlak;\nBulg., vr\u042akolak; Kr., vukodlak; Serb., vukodlak; Cz., vlkodlak; Pol.,\nwilkod\u0142ak; Little Russian, vo\u0142ko\u0142ak; White Russian, vo\u0142ko\u0142ak; Russian,\nvolkulak\u042a; Roum. ve\u0325lkolak, ve\u0325rkolak; Alb., vurvolak; cf. Lith.,\nvilkakis.\n\n\u2018Der vl\u042akodlak ist der Werwolf der Deutschen, woraus m. Lat. guerulfus,\nmannwolf, der in Wolfgestalt gespenstisch umgehende Mann.\u2019 The second\nhalf of the compound is less certainly identified with _dlaka_, Old\nSlav., New Slav., Serb., = \u2018hair\u2019 (of cow or horse).\n\nI am indebted for this note to the kindness of Mr E. H. Minns, of\nPembroke College, Cambridge. It will be found to corroborate the view\npronounced by B. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 159.\n\n[999] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 160 (with\nnote 1).\n\n[1000] Ralston, _Songs of the Russian people_, p. 409.\n\n[1001] Whether this word is originally Slavonic appears to be\nuncertain, but it is at any rate found in all Slavonic languages and is\nproved by the forms which it has assumed to have been in use there for\nfully a thousand years. This note also I owe to my friend, Mr Minns.\n\n[1002] Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 217.\n\n[1003] _Das Volksleben d. Neugr._ p. 159.\n\n[1004] _Ibid._ note 2.\n\n[1005] Mannhardt\u2019s _Zeitschrift f. d. Mythol. und Sittenk._ IV. 195.\n\n[1006] _Les Slaves de Turquie_, I. p. 69 (Paris, 1844).\n\n[1007] Cf. above, p. 183.\n\n[1008] Cf. pp. 183 and 208.\n\n[1009] In Chios at the present day the word _vrykolakas_ is in general\nusage, except that in the village of Pyrgi, owing to a confusion of\n_vrykolakes_ and _callicantzari_, a local name of the latter is applied\nalso to the former. Cf. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 367, and see\nabove p. 193.\n\n[1010] \u1f08\u03bd\u03c4. \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 125. The two words are given in\nthe neuter plural \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1 and \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1, as equivalents of the word\n_vrykolakas_ which, in the form \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, is also employed.\n\n[1011] The periodical \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, vol. 12, no. 278, p. 335 and vol. 13,\nno. 308, p. 505, cited by Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 160.\n\n[1012] Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 160, referring to \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 (periodical),\nIII. p. 539; \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 574.\n\n[1013] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _ibid._\n\n[1014] Cf. above, p. 277.\n\n[1015] \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 in \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bd, 1861, p. 1828. Schmidt\ninterprets the word as \u2018der Aufhockende,\u2019 one who sits upon and crushes\nhis victims, a habit sometimes ascribed to _vrykolakes_, but more\noften to _callicantzari_. My own interpretation has the support of\nmany popular stories, in which, when the exhumation of a _vrykolakas_\ntakes place, he is found sitting up in his tomb. See e.g. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2,\n\u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 590.\n\n[1016] Cf. \u03a7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03cd\u03b6\u03b7\u03c2, \u039a\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, p. 27 (Athens, 1842); \u0393\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3.\n\u03a0\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03a3\u03c6\u03b1\u03ba\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, pp. 72-3.\n\n[1017] _Op. cit._ p. 160.\n\n[1018] \u1f0c\u03c4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, II. p. 114.\n\n[1019] _Os hians, dentes candidi_, cf. above, p. 367.\n\n[1020] The word is mentioned by Newton, _Travels and Discoveries in\nthe Levant_, I. p. 212. I have been unable to obtain any more recent\ninformation.\n\n[1021] \u03a4\u1f78 \u0398\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1fec\u03cc\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 (_The Black Death of Rhodes_), ll. 267\nand 579, published in Wagner\u2019s _Medieval Greek Texts_, I. p. 179 (from\nSchmidt, _op. cit._ p. 160, note 4).\n\n[1022] I have shown above (pp. 239 ff.) that in certain districts the\nword \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 was superseded by a new Greek compound \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2;\nbut this new term was probably always confined, as it now is, to\nthe vocabulary of a few districts only, while the Slavonic word\n_vrykolakas_ enjoyed a wider vogue.\n\n[1023] See above, p. 378.\n\n[1024] I quote my authority only for choice specimens which I have not\nmyself heard. Variations may be found in almost any work bearing on\npopular speech or belief.\n\n[1025] \u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, II. 123 (from Crete).\n\n[1026] _Ibid._\n\n[1027] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f29 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 199 (from Sinasos in Asia Minor).\n\n[1028] Christophorus Angelus, _De statu hodiernorum Graecorum_, cap. 25.\n\n[1029] Cf. above, p. 370.\n\n[1030] In the details of my account of this custom I follow \u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2,\n\u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, pp. 113-114. But it prevails also in substantially the same\nform in many places besides Cythnos.\n\n[1031] I have been at some pains to make wide enquiries on this point,\nbut have found no example.\n\n[1032] The version which I translate is No. 517 in Passow\u2019s _Popularia\nCarmina Graec. recent._\n\n[1033] Prof. \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 has collected seventeen in a monograph entitled\n\u03a4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u1f05\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c6\u03bf\u1fe6 (originally published in the\n\u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f39\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f18\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f19\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2).\n\n[1034] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _op. cit._ p. 43 (Version No. 4, ll. 18, 19).\n\n[1035] The periodical \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1, 1862, vol. 13, p. 367 ( \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _op.\ncit._ p. 66, no. 17, ll. 19, 20).\n\n[1036] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f29 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 164 (from Sinasos in Asia Minor).\n\n[1037] I make this statement with as full confidence as can be felt in\nany such negation, after perusing nearly a score of versions.\n\n[1038] See above, p. 368.\n\n[1039] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 589.\n\n[1040] _Ibid._ p. 591.\n\n[1041] Goar, _Eucholog._ p. 685.\n\n[1042] Cf. Leo Allatius, _De quor. Graecorum opinat._ XIII. Balsamon,\nI. 569 (Migne). _Epist. S. Niconis_, quoted by Balsamon, II. p. 1096\n(ed. Paris, 1620). Christophorus Angelus, cap. 25.\n\n[1043] S. Matthew xviii. 18.\n\n[1044] The power of excommunicating belonged to priests as well as\nto bishops, but they might not exercise it without their bishop\u2019s\nsanction. Cf. Balsamon, I. 27 and 569 (Migne).\n\n[1045] Quoted by Leo Allatius, _De quor. Graec. opinat._ XIII. and XIV.\n\n[1046] The reversal of the decree of excommunication by the same person\nwho had pronounced it was always preferred, largely as a precaution\nagainst an excommunicated person obtaining absolution too easily. Cf.\nBalsamon, I. 64-5 and 437 (Migne).\n\n[1047] _op. cit._ cap. XV. Cf. also Christophorus Angelus, \u1f18\u03b3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c3\u03ae\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u1f51\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd (Cambridge,\n1619), cap. 25, where is told the story of a bishop who was\nexcommunicated by a council of his peers, and whose body remained\n\u2018bound, like iron, for a hundred years,\u2019 when a second council of\nbishops at the same place pronounced absolution and immediately the\nbody \u2018turned to dust.\u2019\n\n[1048] According to Georgius Fehlavius, p. 539 (\u00a7 422) of his edition\nof Christophorus Angelus, _De statu hodiernorum Graecorum_ (Lipsiae,\n1676), Emanuel Malaxus was the writer of a work entitled _Historia\nPatriarcharum Constantinopolitanorum_, which I have not been able to\ndiscover. It was apparently used by Crusius for his _Turco-Grecia_; for\nthe story here told is narrated by him in two versions (I. 56 and II.\n32, pp. 27 and 133 ed. Basle) and he alludes also (p. 151) to a story\nconcerning Arsenios, Bishop of Monemvasia, which likewise according to\nFehlavius (_l.c._) was narrated by Malaxus.\n\n[1049] See below, p. 409.\n\n[1050] Christophorus Angelus (_op. cit._ cap. 25) vouches for the early\nuse of this word by one Cassianus, whom he describes as \u1f1d\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2\n\u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2. I cannot identify this author.\n\n[1051] Du Cange, _Med. et infim. Graec._, s.v. \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2.\n\n[1052] Christophorus Angelus, _l.c._\n\n[1053] Matthew xviii. 18.\n\n[1054] John xx. 23.\n\n[1055] See above, p. 365.\n\n[1056] The word \u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1, which I have rendered with verbal\ncorrectness \u2018memorial services,\u2019 really implies more, and corresponds\nto a mass for the repose of the dead.\n\n[1057] Anastasius Sinaita, in Migne\u2019s _Patrologia Gr.-Lat._, vol. 89,\n279-280.\n\n[1058] i.e. the \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03af, as they were called, the more discreet\nand \u2018spiritual\u2019 priests who alone were authorised by their bishops to\ndischarge this function. Cf. Christophorus Angelus, _op. cit._ cap. 22.\n\n[1059] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, pp. 335 and 339.\n\n[1060] On this symbol see above, pp. 112 f.\n\n[1061] Newton, _Travels and Discoveries in the Levant_, I. p. 212\n(1865). (Cf. B. Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 164.)\n\n[1062] Cf. Christophorus Angelus, _op. cit._ cap. 25 (init.).\n\n[1063] _I. Cor._ v. 5 and _I. Tim._ i. 20.\n\n[1064] Theodoretus, on _I. Cor._ v. 5 (Migne, _Patrologia Gr.-Lat._,\nvol. 82, 261).\n\n[1065] Aesch. _Choeph._, 432-3.\n\n[1066] Paus. IX. 32. 6.\n\n[1067] _Philopseudes_, cap. 29.\n\n[1068] See above, p. 208.\n\n[1069] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. p. 576.\n\n[1070] Ralston, _Songs of the Russian people_, p. 412.\n\n[1071] Mirabilia, cap. I.\n\n[1072] By \u2018seer\u2019 I render \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2, a man directly inspired; by \u2018diviner\u2019\n\u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, one who is skilled in the science of interpreting signs\nand omens.\n\n[1073] _Relation de ce qui s\u2019est pass\u00e9 de plus remarquable a Sant-Erini\netc._, p. 213. He calls Philinnion a Thessalian girl, and makes\nMachates come from Macedonia. But his reference to the story contains\na patent inaccuracy (for he speaks of the girl being buried a second\ntime, whereas she was burnt), and in all probability he was quoting\nfrom memory, not from a more complete text than that now preserved.\n\n[1074] See Pashley, _Travels in Crete_, II. p. 221; Carnarvon,\n_Reminiscences of Athens and the Morea_, p. 162; Schmidt, _das\nVolksleben_, p. 165; \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03cc\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, I. pp. 589, 591 and 593;\n\u0392\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2, \u039a\u03c5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, p. 125.\n\n[1075] Alardus Gazaeus, _Commentary on_ Ioh. Cassianus, _Collatio_,\nVIII. 21 (Migne, _Patrologia_, Ser. I. vol. 49).\n\n[1076] On \u2018striges\u2019 see above, pp. 179 ff.\n\n[1077] On this word see above, p. 288.\n\n[1078] _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 170, with note 1.\n\n[1079] _Philopseudes_, cap. 26.\n\n[1080] Ar. _Eccles._, 1072-3.\n\n[1081] See above, pp. 387-91.\n\n[1082] Eur. _Or._, 1086.\n\n[1083] Eur. _Hipp._, 1038.\n\n[1084] Soph. _O. C._, 1383 ff.\n\n[1085] Soph. _O. C._, 1405.\n\n[1086] 261-297.\n\n[1087] Aesch. _Choeph._, 287-8.\n\n[1088] \u039a\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f08\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u03af\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, I. p. 788. \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 is a necessary\ncorrection of the \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 of the MSS.\n\n[1089] Cf. l. 366 \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[1090] Aesch. _Suppl._, 407 ff.\n\n[1091] Aesch. _Eum._, 173 ff. reading \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u2019 \u1f10\u03be \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6.\n\n[1092] See above, p. 398.\n\n[1093] _Works and Days_, 325 ff.\n\n[1094] See above, p. 397.\n\n[1095] See above, p. 370.\n\n[1096] Hom. _Il._ XXIII. 69 ff.\n\n[1097] Hom. _Od._ XI. 51 ff.\n\n[1098] Eur. _Hec._ 1-58.\n\n[1099] Aesch. _Eum._ 94 ff. It must be observed, however, that\nClytemnestra\u2019s restlessness is represented as being due to her being a\nmurderess quite as much as to her having been violently slain. There\nwas a double cause. See below, p. 474.\n\n[1100] cap. 29.\n\n[1101] Other references are given by Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 169,\namong them Servius on Virg. _Aen._, IV. 386 and Heliod. _Aethiop._, II.\n5.\n\n[1102] Certain hints however are to be found, on which see below, pp.\n438-9.\n\n[1103] Aesch. _Choeph._ 480 ff.\n\n[1104] See below, pp. 438-9.\n\n[1105] p. 81 C, D.\n\n[1106] _Iliad_ XXIII. 65 ff.\n\n[1107] Eurip. _Hecuba_ 1 ff.\n\n[1108] \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f41\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 as opposed to \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f00\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f0d\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n[1109] See above, pp. 110 ff.\n\n[1110] See above, p. 340.\n\n[1111] Soph. _El._ 453-4.\n\n[1112] Aesch. _Choeph._ 480-1.\n\n[1113] Aesch. _Ag._ 455.\n\n[1114] Eur. _Or._ 491-541.\n\n[1115] _Ibid._ 580 ff.\n\n[1116] Aesch. _Choeph._ 924-5. Cf. also 293.\n\n[1117] Soph. _El._ 445.\n\n[1118] Aesch. _Choeph._ 439 ff.\n\n[1119] Antiphon, pp. 119, 125, and 126.\n\n[1120] Cf. below, p. 459.\n\n[1121] Plato, _Leges_, 865 D, \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[1122] The word \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9, which in this passage seems clearly\ntransitive, is perhaps a verbal reminiscence of the old language in\nwhich Plato had heard the tradition.\n\n[1123] Plato, _Leges_, 865 D ff.\n\n[1124] Cf. Demosth., _in Aristocr._, pp. 634 and 643.\n\n[1125] The word technically used of this withdrawal without formal\nsentence of banishment was \u1f00\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, or simply \u1f10\u03be\u03b9\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 (cf.\n\u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03be\u03b5\u03bb\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 in the above passage of Plato), or, as again in\nthe same passage, \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9; whereas legal banishment was denoted by\n\u03c6\u03b5\u03cd\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n[1126] Plato, _Leges_, 872 D ff.\n\n[1127] In early Greek, as witness the first line of the _Iliad_, the\nuse of \u03bc\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2, was less restricted than in later times; but the word,\n\u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 even in Homer occurs only, I think, in the phrase \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd.\nSee below, p. 449.\n\n[1128] Plato, _Phaedrus_, \u00a7 49, p. 244 D.\n\n[1129] Cf. especially Eur. _Or._ 281-2, as pointed out by Bekker in his\nnote on Plato, _Phaedrus_, _l.c._\n\n[1130] Aesch. _Choeph._ 293.\n\n[1131] Plato, _Leges_, 869 A (Bekker\u2019s text); cf. also 869 E.\n\n[1132] See Aesch. _Eum._ 101 and 317 ff.; cf. Eur. _Or._ 583.\n\n[1133] _Ibid._ 94-139.\n\n[1134] _Ibid._ 417.\n\n[1135] Xenoph. _Cyrop._ VIII. 7, 18.\n\n[1136] Hom. _Il._ XXII. 358.\n\n[1137] Hom. _Od._ XI. 73.\n\n[1138] Pind. _Pyth._ IV. 280 ff.\n\n[1139] Cf. Plato, _Leges_, IX. _passim_, and especially p. 871.\n\n[1140] Cf. Aesch. _Eum._ 285 and 448 ff.\n\n[1141] Plato, _Leges_, 868 A and 871 A.\n\n[1142] Cf. Aesch. _Eum._ 445.\n\n[1143] Plato, _Leges_, 871 B.\n\n[1144] _Ibid._ 865 C.\n\n[1145] Cf. Plato, _Leges_, p. 854 A, \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n[1146] Cf. Plato, _Leges_, 866-874, _passim_.\n\n[1147] Aesch. _Eum._ 74 ff.\n\n[1148] Aesch. _Choeph._ 280-1.\n\n[1149] Aesch. _Choeph._ 288-9.\n\n[1150] Cf. especially Aesch. _Choeph._ 400 ff.\n\n[1151] Aesch. _Eum._ 336, \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u1f7c\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f04\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[1152] Aesch. _Eum._ 137-9.\n\n[1153] _Ibid._ 264-7.\n\n[1154] _Ibid._ 328 ff., and again 343 ff.\n\n[1155] This rendering of the word \u03b1\u1f50\u03bf\u03bd\u03ac has been challenged, but has\nthe support of the Scholiast who explains it by the words \u1f41 \u03be\u03b7\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2, (the hymn) which dries and withers men.\n\n[1156] The tense of \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 in the phrase from which I started\n(_Choeph._ 296) is hereby explained.\n\n[1157] Plato, _Phaedrus_, 244 E, \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f14\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\n\u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[1158] Plato\u2019s list is \u2018father, mother, brother, sister, or child,\u2019\n_Leges_, IX. 873 A.\n\n[1159] Plato, _Leges_, IX. 873 B.\n\n[1160] Cf. especially Tournefort, _Voyage du Levant_, I. p. 163, who\nwas an eye-witness of such an occurrence in Myconos.\n\n[1161] Cf. Aesch. _Eumen._ 780 ff., and (for the withdrawal of the\ncurse) 938 ff.\n\n[1162] Eur. _Phoen._ 1592 ff. The word here translated \u2018avengers\u2019 is\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2, which is fully discussed below, pp. 465 ff.\n\n[1163] Aesch. _Suppl._ 262 ff., reading in 266 \u03bc\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03c4\u1f74 \u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7, the\nemendation of Porson.\n\n[1164] _l.c._ 265-6, \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd ... \u03bc\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03c4\u03ae ... \u1f00\u03bd\u1fc6\u03ba\u03b5.\n\n[1165] Aesch. _Eum._ 52.\n\n[1166] Aesch. _Eum._ 53, 137-9.\n\n[1167] _Ibid._ 254.\n\n[1168] _Ibid._ 75, 111, 131, 246-7.\n\n[1169] _passim._\n\n[1170] 183-4, 264.\n\n[1171] _Ibid._ 780 ff., 938 ff.\n\n[1172] _Ibid._ 644.\n\n[1173] _Ibid._ 70, 73, 644.\n\n[1174] Eur. _Med._ 1370.\n\n[1175] Aesch. _Eum._ 177.\n\n[1176] Soph. _El._ 603.\n\n[1177] Aesch. _Eum._ 349, reading \u03bc\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03bd\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f37\u03bc\u03b1.\n\n[1178] Aesch. _Eum._ 236.\n\n[1179] L. and S. s.v.\n\n[1180] Cf. Aesch. _Choeph._ 1026 ff., and _Eumen._ _passim_.\n\n[1181] Cf. Preller, _Griech. Mythol._, I. p. 145 (edit. 4, Carl Robert).\n\n[1182] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ II. \u00a7 26.\n\n[1183] Aesch. _Pers._ 353.\n\n[1184] This fact is recognised by Geddes in his edition of the\n_Phaedo_, in the course of his note (p. 280 ff.) on the difficulty\nconcerning the words \u1f22 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 in cap. 33 (p. 85 D). He does\nnot however infer that the words really contrasted are \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 and\n\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd, but claims for the particle \u1f22 an epexegetic sense (\u2018or, in\nother words,\u2019) besides its usual disjunctive sense (\u2018or else\u2019). I am\nfar from being satisfied that the epexegetic use of \u1f22 existed at all\nin Classical Greek, which idiomatically employed \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 in that way. At\nany rate its existence is not proved by the other passages which Geddes\ncites--Aesch. _Pers._ 430 and Soph. _Phil._ 934--where the \u1f22 perhaps\nequals _vel_ rather than _aut_, but has none of the epexegetic sense of\n_sive_.\n\n[1185] Eur. _Med._ 1059 ff.\n\n[1186] Eur. _Med._ 1333 ff.\n\n[1187] Eur. _H. F._ 1229 ff.\n\n[1188] Cf. Paley, in his note to elucidate this dialogue. It should be\nadded however that in a second note on the same page, dealing with this\nline only, he apparently contradicts his previous explanation.\n\n[1189] Eur. _H. F._ 1218 ff.\n\n[1190] Cf. 1324.\n\n[1191] See Eustath. on _Il._ IV. 295.\n\n[1192] _Gk Etymol._ 547.\n\n[1193] _Vergleichende Grammatik_, II. \u00a7 122.\n\n[1194] The nearest parallel could only be the dubious form \u1f00\u03b4\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 in\nHesiod, _W. and D._, 353. But that form, if correct, is probably best\ntreated as adjective (giftless) not as substantive (non-giver).\n\n[1195] I am indebted to Mr P. Giles, of Emmanuel College, for pointing\nout to me that the analogy with \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 is mentioned in the last\nedition of Meyer\u2019s _Griechische Philologie_.\n\n[1196] Hom. _Il._ IV. 295, \u1f08\u03bc\u03c6\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd \u03a0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u1f08\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac \u03c4\u03b5, \u03a7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\n\u03c4\u03b5. The hiatus in the third foot has been made the basis of a\nsuggestion, to which Mr P. Giles has kindly called my attention, that\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 should begin with a digamma. There is however no need for the\nsupposition, since hiatus after the trochaic caesura is not infrequent\n(e.g. _Il._ I. 569) and some license is generally allowed in any case\nin the metrical treatment of proper names; moreover, in _Il._ VIII.\n333, we have a line \u03b4\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f08\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 which makes against the original\nexistence of a digamma in the word.\n\n[1197] Aesch. _Eum._ 103.\n\n[1198] Aesch. _Eum._ 114.\n\n[1199] Aesch. _Eum._ 98.\n\n[1200] This is distinctly stated in the passage, though of course her\nown violent death might equally well have been given as a cause of\n\u2018wandering.\u2019\n\n[1201] Eur. _Tro._ 1023.\n\n[1202] Cf. Plutarch, _de defect. orac._, cap. 15 (p. 418).\n\n[1203] Aesch. _Eum._ 236, cf. above, p. 466.\n\n[1204] Soph. _Ajax_, 373.\n\n[1205] Demosth. _de Falsa Legat._, p. 438, 28.\n\n[1206] Demosth. _de Corona_, \u00a7 296, p. 324.\n\n[1207] Soph. _Trach._ 1092.\n\n[1208] e.g. Eur. _Iph. in Aul._ 878; _Phoen._ 1550; _El._ 979; _Or._\n1668.\n\n[1209] _Choeph._ 928.\n\n[1210] _Electra_, 677.\n\n[1211] Eur. _Or._ 1584.\n\n[1212] Eur. _Andr._ 614.\n\n[1213] Aeschines, _De falsa legatione_, \u00a7 168 (p. 49). Cf. \u00a7 162 (p.\n48).\n\n[1214] Aeschylus, _Agam._ 1587.\n\n[1215] Plato, _Leges_, IX. p. 866 B, cf. above, p. 445.\n\n[1216] So far as I can discover, it is a solitary example of the use\nin Classical Greek; but I very strongly suspect that in Antiphon, p.\n127 (init.), \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c8\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 should be read instead of \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c8\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9. A\nman accused of murder is saying, \u1f00\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03c9\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2, \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f74\n\u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f51\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03c5\u03b3\u1f7c\u03bd, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03ac\u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u1f51\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u03c9\u00b7 \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03c6\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c6\u2019\n\u1f51\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd, \u1f51\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c8\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9. The sense\nis, \u2018If I were really guilty of this murder and yet owing to the feeble\ncase presented by the prosecutor I were acquitted by you, my escape\nwould bring the Avenger of the dead man upon the prosecutor and not on\nyou; whereas, if you condemn me wrongly when I am innocent, it will be\non you and not on him that I, after death, shall turn the wrath of the\nAvengers.\u2019 Clearly \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c8\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 is required to answer \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, and\nit could have no more natural object than \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1, the special word\ndenoting the wrath which follows on bloodguilt.\n\n[1217] Photius, s.v. \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[1218] I venture upon this emphatic negation, not so much because I\nhave found no such usage in my reading of Greek literature, as because\nthe line of the _Eumenides_ in which Orestes calls himself \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1, \u03bf\u1f50\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, would be hopelessly ambiguous if such an usage had been\npossible.\n\n[1219] Antiphon, 119. 6.\n\n[1220] Aesch. _Choeph._ 287.\n\n[1221] Antiphon, 125. 32 and 126. 39.\n\n[1222] Pausan. II. 18. 2.\n\n[1223] Hesychius, s.v. \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[1224] Aesch. _Agam._ 1587; see above, p. 480.\n\n[1225] Cf. Aesch. _Eum._ 283 and 450.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nCREMATION AND INHUMATION.\n\n\nThe discussion of those abnormal cases of after-death existence, to\nwhich the last chapter has been devoted, has disclosed to us the fact\nthat in all ages of Greece the condition most to be dreaded by the\ndead has been incorruptibility and the boon most to be desired a sure\nand quick dissolution; and that of the two methods by which the living\nmight promote the disintegration of the dead, cremation and inhumation,\nthe former alone has been accounted infallible. What benefit in the\nfuture existence was in old time thought to accrue to those whose\nbodies had been duly dissolved, and to be withheld from _revenants_,\nis a question which may conveniently be adjourned for a while. First\nwe must verify the results obtained from the study of the abnormal\nby consideration of the normal; we must see whether ordinary funeral\nusage has had for its sole object the dissolution of the dead in the\ninterests of the dead; and what, if any, distinction has been made\nbetween inhumation and cremation as a means of securing that object.\n\nNow diverse methods of disposing of the dead, especially among a\nprimitive folk, would naturally suggest diverse religious purposes to\nbe served thereby, diverse conceptions of the future estate of the\ndead, or of their future abode, or of their future relations with\nthe living; and for my part I do not doubt that, if our eyes could\npierce the darkness of a long distant past which neither history nor\neven archaeology has illumined, we should see that the peoples who\nfirst used cremation and inhumation side by side in Greece were in so\ndoing animated by diverse religious sentiments. But I hold also that\nin no period of which we have any cognisance have the Greeks regarded\ninhumation and cremation as means to different religious ends; but\nthat, whichever funeral-method has been employed, one and the same\nimmediate object has always been kept in view, the dissolution of the\ndead body, and one and the same motive (save in the quite exceptional\ncircumstances where a scare of _vrykolakes_ has temporarily arisen) has\nalways prompted the mourners thereto, the motive of benefiting the dead.\n\nBut, while the object in view was single and constant, there would\nhave been no inconsistency in making a certain distinction between\nthe two methods available. On the contrary, if the sole object was\nthe disintegration of the dead body, the surer and quicker means of\nattaining it should logically have been preferred. Cremation therefore\nmight legitimately have been reckoned a superior rite to inhumation;\nfor it cannot but have been recognised that the disintegration of the\nbody is more rapidly and unfailingly effected by the action of fire\nthan by the action of the soil.\n\nIt is true indeed that the solvent action of the earth upon the buried\nbody--even with all due allowance for the absence of any coffin in many\ncases--is popularly regarded as far more rapid than it can actually\nbe. The period usually reckoned by the common-folk as the limit of\ntime requisite for complete dissolution is forty days. This is stated\nclearly enough in a few lines of a song of lamentation heard in\nZacynthos:\n\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u2019 \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03ae\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf \u1f00\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd,\n    \u03c0\u03ad\u03c6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u1f70, \u03b2\u03b3\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1,\n    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03bc\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9[1226].\n\n \u2018And within the forty days, they (the dead) are severed joint from\n joint, their bright hair falls away, their dark eyes fall out, and\n asunder go trunk and head.\u2019\n\nThe Zacynthian muse is horribly explicit; its utterances need no\ninterpreter; itself rather gives the true interpretation of certain\ncustoms which are wide-spread in modern Greece and appear to date from\npre-Christian days.\n\nThe fortieth day after death is almost universally observed in Greece\nas one on which the relations of the deceased should provide a memorial\nfeast. There are indeed other fixed days for the like commemoration\nand \u2018forgiveness[1227]\u2019 of the dead, but these all fall at periods\nof three, or a multiple of three, days, weeks, months, or years, from\nthe date of death. These, I think, have been selected in deference to\nthe mysterious virtue of the number three[1228], and not improbably\nmultiplied by the importunities of a penurious priesthood, to whom some\nhalf-dozen hearty meals in the course of the year do not appear an\ninappropriate remuneration for their services at death-bed and burial.\nBut the fortieth day was originally devoted to this purpose, it may\nreasonably be supposed, because it was the last opportunity of setting\nbefore the dead man\u2019s neighbours and acquaintances savoury meat such\nas their soul loved, that they might eat thereof and \u2018loose\u2019 the dead\nman from any curse wherewith in his lifetime they had bound him; if\ndissolution was not to be retarded, the fortieth day was in popular\nreckoning the last opportunity for absolution.\n\nFrom this it should follow that any memorial feasts held later[1229]\nthan the fortieth day are of purely ecclesiastical contrivance; and\nthe correctness of this inference is attested by a curious local usage\nwhich clearly distinguishes the popular and the ecclesiastical feasts.\nAt Sinasos in Asia Minor two classes of commemorations are recognised.\nThe one is called \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, \u2018little baskets,\u2019 from the method in which\nfood is distributed to the poor; this is held on the fortieth day. The\nother has usurped the name \u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1, which commonly belongs to all\nmemorial-feasts, and is held on the three anniversaries of the death\n(for, after the third, exhumation generally takes place, and no further\nmemorial-feasts are needed) and consists in the presentation of an\nornamental dish of boiled wheat (\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1) at the church and the reading\nof a service[1230]. In other words, the fortieth day is the popular\nfestival, and the observances of later dates are ecclesiastical.\nClearly the reason for this distinction must lie in the fact that the\ncommon-folk believe, as the song from Zacynthos shows, that dissolution\nis normally complete by the fortieth day, while the Church has\nprudently fixed the date, after which exhumation is permissible, at the\nend of the third year. Presumably then a period of forty days was the\nold pagan period, for which the Church has tried, with partial success,\nto substitute three years.\n\nSeveral other small pieces of evidence point to the wide distribution\nof this popular notion. In Sinasos[1231], once more, and also in\nPatmos[1232], the fees paid to the priests for memorial services derive\ntheir name from the word \u2018forty\u2019 (\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1), as if the fortieth day were\nthe limit; after that date, apparently, though my authorities are not\nexplicit on the point, the priests have for their remuneration only the\ndish of boiled wheat or other presents in kind. In Crete, if a dead\nman is suspected of turning _vrykolakas_ soon after his death, the\npeople are anxious to deal with him before he enters upon his second\nperiod of forty days[1233]; for then all hope of natural dissolution\nis past, and he becomes as it were a confirmed vampire. In Scyros, the\nold custom of burning such corpses as were found on exhumation at the\nend of three years (or, in case of a panic, earlier) to be still whole,\nand were therefore suspected of vampire-like proclivities, has been\nreplaced by the milder expedient of carrying the body round to forty\nchurches in turn and then re-interring it, in the hope, as it seems,\nthat each of the forty saints, whose sanctuaries have been honoured\nwith a visit and a certain consumption of candles, will in return take\na proportionate share in \u2018loosing\u2019 the suppliant dead--or, it may be,\nin the more mathematical expectation that the work effected in cases of\nordinary burial by one funeral-service in forty days, will be achieved\nby forty funeral-services in one day. Whichever be the calculation on\nwhich the practice has been based, the number of churches to be visited\nis clearly governed by the number of days requisite, in popular belief,\nfor ordinary dissolution.\n\nBut with all this reputed rapidity of the earth in \u2018loosing\u2019 the dead\nbodies committed to her care, the action of fire is incontrovertibly\nmore rapid. In hours, not in days, may be counted the period of\ndisintegration on the pyre. And as it is quicker, so also is it far\nsurer. No body that has been burned can wander as a _revenant_ over\nthe earth, while for the buried there is no perfect assurance of\ndissolution. Some curse, some crime, the violence of their death, or\nthe deficiency of their funeral rites, each and all of these may keep\ntheir bodies \u2018bound\u2019 and indissoluble. Cremation then is indisputably\nin theory the preferable means of securing to the dead that boon which\nthey most desire; and I hold that in the practice of the Greek people\nthere are signs that this preference was felt.\n\nThere are then two propositions to be established by reference to the\nactual funeral methods of Ancient and Modern Greece; first, that from\nthe earliest ages of which we have cognisance cremation and inhumation\nhave been identical in their religious purpose; second, that a\npreference for cremation, considered as a means to the single religious\nend, has been manifested.\n\nThe first thing needful in this twofold investigation is to understand\nthe terms, which are to be used, in the sense in which the Greek\nunderstood them. Cremation means to us the consumption of the corpse by\nfire; inhumation the laying of the corpse out of sight in the earth;\nand unless one or other of those acts had been really performed, we\nshould not consider that a funeral had taken place. But the Greeks\njudged rather by the intention than by the act. In certain cases, in\nwhich the actual digging of a grave was impossible, ancient usage\nprescribed a ceremonial substitute. The sprinkling of a handful of\ndust over a dead body was held to constitute burial. Such was all the\nfuneral that Antigone could give to Polynices[1234]; such the minimum\nof burial enjoined by Attic Law on any who chanced upon a dead body\nlying unburied[1235]; such, according to Aelian, \u2018the fulfilment of\nsome mysterious law of piety imposed by Nature\u2019 not only upon man but\neven on some of the brute creation, in such sort that the elephant, if\nhe find one of his own kind dead, gathers up some earth in his trunk\nand sprinkles it over the prostrate carcase[1236]. \u2018The fulfilment of\nsome mysterious law of piety\u2019--Aelian\u2019s phrase accurately summarises\nthe Greek view of burial. To us it is a necessary and decent method of\ndisposing of the dead. To the Greeks it was something more--a provision\nfor their dimly discerned welfare; and the intention of the living\nmattered so much more than the performance, that, in cases where real\nburial could not be given, a mere ceremony suggestive of burial was\nconsidered competent to ensure the same end.\n\nAgain in the case of a man drowned at sea or having met his death\nin any way which precluded the possibility of his body being brought\nhome for burial, a means has always been found for fulfilling \u2018the\nmysterious law of piety.\u2019 Still, as in old time, the cenotaph serves\nthe same end as the real sepulchre. A lay-figure, dressed if possible\nin some clothes of the dead man, receives on his behalf the full rite\nof burial[1237]; and if enquiry be made, to what purpose this empty\nceremony, the answer is not slow in coming, \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03c5\u03c9\u03b8\u1fc7 \u1f41 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u2018to the end that the dead man may be dissolved\u2019; nor can I doubt that\nthe same formal rite in old time served the same end.\n\nAnd let no practical-minded critic here interpose the objection that\na dead body lying unburied, exposed to sun and rain, must decompose\nat least as rapidly as one that has been buried; I have myself tried\nthe effect of that criticism on the Greek peasants with instructive\nresults. Once my suggestion was promptly met with a flat and honest\ndenial--the most simple and final of answers, for, be it remembered, it\nis with the honest beliefs of the peasant, and not with physical facts,\nthat we are dealing. Another time there was a pause, and then came the\ndeliberate answer, \u03b2\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03bc\u1f76, \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u2018the corpse becomes\nputrid, but is not \u201cloosed\u201d.\u2019 There was a distinction in the peasant\u2019s\nmind between natural decomposition and the dissolution effected by a\nreligious rite. But more often it has been pointed out to me that my\napparently reasonable suggestion was really unpractical; a dead body\nleft unburied would never suffer natural decay, but would be a prey to\nthe beasts of the field and the fowls of the air; the vultures circling\nyonder overhead convicted me of unreason. And the answer could not\nbut recall the threats of Achilles against Hector, or the fears of\nAntigone for Polynices, that dogs and carrion-birds should feast upon\nthe corpse. So then it is perhaps a logical as well as an honest belief\nwhich the Greeks have always held, that dissolution of the body is\nafforded by one of two rites and by no third means.\n\nNow one of these rites, inhumation, might on occasion be reduced to\na mere ceremonial observance, the scattering of a handful of dust\nover the body, or the interment of an effigy in its stead. Was the\nother rite, cremation, ever so reduced? Could the roar and crackle of\nthe blazing pyre be ceremonially replaced by a small flame lighted\nin proximity to the dead body? Did the kindling of a fire, however\nincapable of consuming the dead body, constitute cremation in the\nsame sense that a handful of earth, incapable of concealing the dead\nbody, constituted interment? _Prima facie_ there is nothing wild in\nthe supposition; it is consistent with the Greek conception of the\nfuneral-rite, which looked rather to the intention than to the act;\nthe proven fact of ceremonial inhumation guarantees the likelihood of\nceremonial cremation. I take it therefore as a working hypothesis, and\nbase its subsequent claim to be accepted as a fact on its ability to\nexplain consistently a long series of phenomena in Greek funeral usage.\n\nMy first proposition, that from the earliest ages of which we have\ncognisance cremation and inhumation have served the same religious\nend, would have had an initial obstacle to surmount but for Professor\nRidgeway\u2019s work on the ethnology of early Greece. Diverse methods of\ndisposing of the dead would at first sight, as I have said, suggest\ndiverse conceptions of after-death existence. But Professor Ridgeway\nhas shown conclusively, to my mind, that inhumation was the rite of\nthe autochthonous Pelasgian people of Greece, and that cremation was\nintroduced by the Achaean immigrants[1238]. Now it is improbable of\ncourse that these two peoples, when they first came into contact, held\nsimilar views concerning the hereafter. But the entry of the Achaean\nelement was, according to all evidence, a long process of infiltration\nrather than a sudden invasion. The beginnings of it are conjecturally\nplaced well back in the third millennium before Christ[1239]. There was\nample time therefore, even before the later Mycenaean or the Homeric\nage, for differences of religious sentiment as between the two races to\ndwindle or to vanish, while the two rites of cremation and inhumation,\nwith the inveteracy of all custom, still survived.\n\nThus there is no initial objection to the view that in any period\nknown to us those who used cremation and those who used inhumation\nwere animated by the same religious ideas; and at the same time I\nam relieved of the necessity of combating both the old theory that\ncremation was adopted by the Greeks as a convenient substitute for\ninhumation during some period of migration or nomadic life, and Rohde\u2019s\nmore recent theory[1240] that fear of the spirits of the dead, which\nwere believed to hover about graves where their bodies lay buried, led\nmen to adopt cremation as a means of annihilating the body and thereby\nridding themselves of the unwelcome spirit. Both those theories fail,\napart from certain intrinsic defects, because they are attempts to\nexplain a thing which never took place--a supposed substitution of\ncremation for inhumation between the Mycenaean and the Homeric ages.\nProfessor Ridgeway has shown that the Mycenaean rite was that of the\nPelasgians; the Homeric rite that of the Achaeans. It is an accident\nonly that our earliest information respecting the two rites happens to\nbe drawn from different periods of time; the real distinction between\nthe two was a racial distinction; from the age when the Achaeans first\nentered Greece down to the Christian era cremation and inhumation were\nboth continuously practised.\n\nThe positive evidence for my view that these two rites were mere racial\nsurvivals, which had already, in the earliest ages known to us, ceased\nto differ in religious import, is to be found not only in the fact\nthat in historical times, or even earlier, the two rites were used\nside by side by the people of a single city in the same cemetery, but\nin an early tendency to fuse the two rites into one and to give to the\nsame body the double treatment of cremation and inhumation combined;\nfor clearly the only condition under which two such rites could be\namalgamated must have been that there had ceased to be any conflict of\nreligious significance between them.\n\nHow early this fusion began it is difficult to determine; but it is at\nleast worth while to note a point which is apt to be overlooked, that\nthe Homeric funeral-rite comprised inhumation. Cremation certainly\nwas the main part of the rite, the actual means by which the corpse\nwas disintegrated; but the funeral was not complete until the ashes\nhad been collected and inhumed[1241]. This is an act of ceremonial\ninhumation just as much as the burial of an effigy dressed in a dead\nman\u2019s clothes.\n\nMoreover it is possible that the Mycenaean funeral-rite sometimes\ncomprised an act of ceremonial cremation. To review here the\narchaeological evidence for some use of fire in Mycenaean graves\nis unnecessary; it will suffice to quote from the summary given\nby Rohde[1242] as the basis of his theory--to which I by no means\nassent--that a vigorous \u2018soul-cult,\u2019 involving propitiatory offerings\nto the dead, was a religious feature of that age. \u2018Traces of smoke,\nremnants of ash and charcoal, point to the fact that the dead bodies\nwere laid on the spot where were burnt those offerings to the dead\nwhich had previously been made in the tomb.... On the ground, or\nsometimes on a specially prepared bed of flints, the offerings were\nburnt, and then, when the fire had gone out, the bodies were laid on\ntop and covered over with sand, lime, and stones.\u2019\n\nNow the fact that in Mycenaean graves gifts were actually consumed\nby fire while the corpse was left to the process of natural decay is\nindisputable; but, if the fire employed had no further purpose, the\npractice of the Mycenaean age would be unique. The custom of all later\nages was to treat the corpse and the gifts alike, to burn both or to\nbury both. This is implied in ancient literature[1243], and confirmed\nby modern excavations; for funeral-urns seldom contain any remnants of\ngifts; which means that the gifts had been consumed on the pyre with\nthe body, but that only the bones were collected and stored in the urn;\nwhereas in graves the gifts are constantly found buried with the body\nand intact. Further the custom of burning both body and gifts is the\nold Achaean custom, as described by Homer in the funeral of Patroclus;\nand it would seem probable that the custom of interring both body and\ngifts intact was the original Pelasgian custom. Was then the use of\nfire in these Mycenaean graves the first step in the fusion of the\nAchaean and Pelasgian rites?\n\nAgain, the body was observed to lie on top of the burnt gifts. What is\nthe meaning of this superimposition? According to Rohde the fire which\nconsumed the gifts was allowed to go out, and the bodies were then laid\non the cold ashes. But manifestly this cannot be proved. All that we\nknow is that the fire did not consume the bodies. No one can assert\nthat they were untouched by flame or ember and that the smell of fire\ndid not pass over them. Was then the act of laying the body on top of\nthe burnt or burning gifts an act of ceremonial cremation?\n\nThese questions I cannot answer; but one thing is clear. Either the\nfusion of the Achaean and Pelasgian rites had already begun, or else,\nin their original forms, they both comprised usages which greatly\nfacilitated their subsequent fusion.\n\nWhen we pass on to the Dipylon-period, there is no longer any doubt.\nCremation and inhumation were practised both severally side by side and\nalso conjointly as a single rite. The evidence on which I mainly rely\nis derived from two series of excavations, those of Philios[1244] at\nEleusis and those of Br\u00fcckner and Pernice[1245] in the Dipylon cemetery\nat Athens.\n\nThe autochthonous population of Attica naturally adhered in the\nmain to the old Pelasgian rite of inhumation. Yet at Eleusis, even\naccording to Philios who strangely belittles the importance of his\nown discoveries[1246], there was one certain case of cremation; and\nin the Dipylon cemetery also was found one urn which could be dated\nwith equal certainty. One or two other probable cases have also been\nrecorded by others[1247]. Clearly then as early as the eighth century\nB.C. cremation was sometimes used, side by side with inhumation, as the\neffective means of disintegrating the dead body.\n\nAnd there is equally sure proof that the two rites were also employed\nconjointly, in the sense that a ceremonial act of inhumation followed\nactual cremation, or a ceremonial act of cremation accompanied actual\ninhumation. A conspicuous instance of the former is the one certain\ncase of actual cremation recorded by Br\u00fcckner and Pernice[1248]. A\nbronze urn containing the calcined bones of a boy or girl had been\ndeposited not in a mere hole dug to fit it, but in a grave fully\nprepared as if for the reception of a corpse. The measurements of the\ngrave were of normal size; in it had been laid, along with the urn,\ngifts of the usual nature--an amphora, two boxes, a bowl, and a jug;\nand above the grave, in a prepared space considerably wider than the\nactual grave, stood one of the large Dipylon-vases. In every respect\nthe interment had been carried out as if it were the interment of an\nunburnt body. An attempt had been made so to combine the two rites of\ncremation and inhumation that neither should seem subordinate to the\nother.\n\nInstances of the other sort, in which ceremonial cremation accompanied\nactual inhumation, are furnished by Philios\u2019 excavations at Eleusis.\nSpeaking of the large earthenware jars which often served as coffins\nfor children, he says, \u2018Whereas the bones contained in these vessels\nwere unburnt, all round the vessels in the soil traces of burning were\nabundant and varied[1249].\u2019 Now these traces of fire cannot have been\ndue to the burning of gifts brought subsequently to the interment;\nfor that custom naturally resulted in a stratum of burnt soil above\nthe grave. But here the traces were \u2018all round the vessels, in the\nsoil.\u2019 Apparently then we have here a practice parallel to that\nof Mycenaean times. The body was interred and obtained its actual\ndissolution by natural decay; but before the interment a fire was\nkindled in the grave, and among the flames or on the embers the body\nin its coffin-jar was laid and covered over with the soil. Whether at\nEleusis, as at Mycenae, the funeral-gifts were consumed in that fire,\nwe do not know for certain; but since it is undoubtedly rare to find\nany gift along with the child\u2019s body in these vessels, it is reasonable\nto suppose that the few gifts--few, because all the circumstances of\nthese funerals seem humble--were burnt[1250] just as were the grander\nofferings at Mycenae. At any rate these cases reveal an intention\nof associating fire with the buried body, of adding to the rite of\ninterment a ceremonial act of cremation.\n\nThe tendency towards fusion of the two funeral rites has now been\ntraced through the pre-historic era; it is in the historic period\nthat the fusion appears most general and most complete. I will take as\ntypical instances a number of graves, ranging in date from the sixth\nto the fourth century, opened by the two German excavators on whose\nnarrative I have largely relied for the Dipylon-period[1251]. These\ngraves numbered somewhat under two hundred. In the classification of\nthem there appears the important item--forty-five graves in which the\nbody had been actually burned. In other words, in approximately a\nquarter of the cases observed the rites of cremation and inhumation\nhad been combined, and that too in such a way that both elements,\nfire and earth, might well have seemed to share together the work\nof dissolution. Neither method is here exalted to sole efficacy,\nneither is degraded into mere ceremony. The balance of importance is\nadjusted, and the two acts which form the composite funeral-rite are\nrecognised as equal. Indeed there are no longer two distinct acts;\nthey have coalesced; the moment and the act of laying the body in the\nearth are also the moment and the act of laying the body on the pyre.\nAmalgamation is complete.\n\nHaving traced the history of Greek funeral-usage down to this point, I\nmay now fairly claim, first, that my working hypothesis--the practice\nof ceremonial cremation as the counterpart of ceremonial inhumation--is\njustified by the single and consistent explanation which it affords of\nthe phenomena which I have noticed (and I may add that I shall have\noccasion to explain other phenomena in the latter half of this chapter\nin the same way); secondly, if that explanation be accepted, I may\nclaim that the only condition under which the two rites could have been\nemployed both severally as alternatives and conjointly as one composite\nrite was that the religious purpose underlying them both was one and\nthe same. And this purpose, if there is any meaning in the stories of\nPatroclus, Elpenor, Polynices, and Polydorus, was to give to the dead\nthat which they most craved, a speedy dissolution.\n\nThe evidence for this unity of purpose is, I hope, already sufficient;\nbut confirmation may be found, if required, in the smaller details\nof funeral-custom. It is, I believe, a received principle of textual\ncriticism that, in estimating the relation of two manuscripts of a\ngiven author, coincidence in _minutiae_ is the true criterion of their\ncommon origin or other close kinship, and its testimony is not to\nbe outweighed by a few conspicuous divergences. So too, I think, in\nestimating the mutual relation of two rites, the coincidence of all\nthe minor circumstances connected with them is of more significance\nthan one large and evident contrast between them. Such a contrast, let\nit be granted, exists between cremation and inhumation when employed\nseparately. Yet it would be a rash and faulty judgement, I hold,\nwhich should at once infer thence that the two rites were informed by\ndifferent religious ideas. The minute coincidences claim examination.\nIf all that preceded and accompanied and followed the actual disposal\nof the corpse, whether by burning or by burial, exhibited uniformity in\nscheme and in scope; if the washing and the anointing, the arraying and\nthe crowning, were performed with the same tender care whether the body\nwas destined for the cold, slow earth or for the rapid flame; if from\nthe death-chamber, where the body had lain in state and the kinsfolk,\ngrouped in order of dearness about it, had paid in turn their debt of\nlamentation, the same sad pomp escorted the dead whether to the pyre\nor to the grave; if the same gifts--the same provision as it seems for\nbodily comfort--were mingled as ashes with the ashes of the dead or\nwere consigned intact with the body yet intact to the will and keeping\nof the earth; then, whichever means the mourners chose for effecting\nthe actual dissolution of the fleshly remains, their religious attitude\ntowards death and their conception of the hereafter must have been\nsingle and constant.\n\nSpace forbids me to enter into the evidence for the uniformity of all\nthis detail in all periods of Greek life. I will confine myself to two\nillustrations. The first shall be the _prothesis_ or lying-in-state\nof the body with the solemn lamentation of the kinsfolk, for the most\npart women, grouped about it. I have elsewhere[1252] described the\nscene; I have only to illustrate here the universality of it as the\nprelude alike to cremation and to inhumation, alike in Ancient and in\nModern Greece, alike amid pagan and amid Christian surroundings. In the\nMycenaean age the bodies of the dead were sumptuously arrayed--probably\nwith a view to the lying-in-state; more than that cannot be actually\nasserted of the earliest epoch. But in the Homeric age, as at the\nfuneral of Hector[1253], the custom is seen already fully developed.\nIn the Dipylon-age the scene described by Homer is found depicted\non the great vases that served as monuments over the graves[1254]. A\nlittle later, the legislation of Solon is directed against the excesses\nto which the rite of solemn lamentation led[1255]. Next, an orator of\nAthens is found declaiming against the wrongs done to him by the thirty\ntyrants, who, not content with having put his brother to death, had\nactually refused the use of any of the three houses belonging to the\nfamily and had forced them to lay out the body in a hired hut[1256].\nAgain we have the ridicule of Lucian directed against the discordant\nscene of useless misery[1257]. In strange company with him appears\nSt Chrysostom upbraiding Christians for their extravagances of grief\nand threatening them with excommunication if they continue to call in\nheathen women to act as professional mourners[1258]. Centuries passed\nwithout diminution of the custom, and the Venetians during their\noccupation of the Ionian islands enacted laws[1259] in the spirit of\nthose formulated by Solon more than two thousand years before. Of this\ncustom it might well be said, \u2018_et vetabitur semper et retinebitur_,\u2019\nfor it still maintains its old vogue and vitality, and is the necessary\nprelude of every peasant\u2019s funeral to-day.\n\nMy second illustration is a far more trivial circumstance, but not on\nthat account less significant--the use of the foliage of the olive as\na couch for the dead, whether on the bier which conveyed him to the\ngrave or on the funeral-pyre. The reason for choosing olive-leaves\ndoes not concern us; there may have been, as Rohde suggests[1260],\nsome idea of purification connected with it; but it is only the\nwide-spread use of it which I have to illustrate. Among the ashes of\nthose small pyres, on which the dead were laid in Mycenaean sepulchres,\nwere recognised charred olive-leaves[1261]. Lycurgus in curtailing\nthe funeral-rites of Sparta bade his countrymen wrap their dead for\nburial in the red military cloak (as became a race of warriors) and in\nolive-leaves[1262]. The Pythagoreans, who objected to cremation[1263],\nlaid their dead to rest on a bed of leaves gathered from myrtle,\npoplar, and olive[1264]. An Attic law forbade the felling of certain\nolive-trees under penalty of a fine of a hundred drachmae per tree,\nbut contained a saving-clause exempting cases in which olive-wood was\nwanted for funerals[1265]. This permission points to a special use of\nolive-wood as fuel for the pyre, for, if a few branches or sprays only\nhad been needed for decking out the bier, there would have been no\nquestion of felling whole trees. It was probably then this custom which\nSophocles also had in mind, when the messenger, who brought the news\nof Polynices\u2019 tardy funeral, was made by him to specify \u2018fresh-plucked\nolive-shoots\u2019 as the material of the pyre[1266]. Again, in a number\nof sarcophagi found by Fauvel outside the gates of Athens on the\nroad to Acharnae the skeleton was observed to lie \u2018on a thick bed of\nolive-leaves[1267].\u2019 In the second century of our era the custom of\nplacing olive-branches on the bier still prevailed[1268]; and at the\npresent day the olive is often conspicuous at the funerals of peasants,\neither in the garland about the dead man\u2019s head or in the decoration of\nthe bier.\n\nThus the uniformity of detail in funerals, whether the main rite was\ncremation or inhumation, no less than the tendency to amalgamate these\ntwo into a single rite, proves that, from the earliest ages known to\nus, their religious purpose had been identical--to give to the dead\nthat speedy bodily dissolution which they desired.\n\nBut in spite of this unity of purpose, one or other rite doubtless\ncontinued long through force of custom to hold predominance in\nparticular districts. In Attica it was perhaps not until the sixth or\neven the fifth century that the Pelasgian rite had entirely lost the\nsupport of ancestral tradition. But then and thenceforward the two\nmethods appear to have been judged simply as methods, and the estimate\nof their respective merits was little affected by the old racial\ndifferences. But this does not mean that the methods were judged\nwholly on their religious merits--on their adaptability to the single\nreligious purpose. Cost and convenience were necessarily factors in\ndetermining the choice between them. Thus the question of cost must\noften have decided the poorer classes to choose inhumation; and in\nthat portion of the Dipylon cemetery to which I have already referred,\nit was actually found that, out of the graves in which no evidence of\ncremation was found, more than a hundred were of a poor character,\nmere shafts in the earth, or at the best walled with rough brick-built\nsides, while only thirteen were of a costly style--sepulchres built\nwith slabs of stone, or regular sarcophagi. And similarly other\npractical considerations must often have turned the scale in favour\nof the one or the other rite. The soldiers who fell at Marathon were\nsimply interred, presumably because to dig a trench and to raise a\nmound in the middle of the plain was a more feasible task than to\ncollect masses of fuel from the surrounding hill-sides; but the victims\nof the plague at Athens were with good reason cremated.\n\nNevertheless, where none of these external causes operated, there\nare signs that cremation was held in somewhat higher esteem than\ninhumation. The story went that Solon\u2019s body was burnt, by way of\nhonour seemingly, and his ashes scattered over that island which he\nhad won back for Athens. And we hear of cremation being accorded,\napparently again as the more honourable rite, to other great men\nsuch as Dionysius, the famous tyrant of Syracuse, and Timoleon, her\ndeliverer. But more conclusive is the evidence of literature, where not\nonly the act itself is named, but a clear indication of the feeling\nof the actors is given. According to Aeschylus, the dead body of\nAgamemnon, king though he was, was merely hidden away in the ground\nby his blood-guilty wife; even in death she would show him no pity,\ndo him no honour. But in Sophocles the dying Heracles is laid on a\nfuneral-pyre, and the dead Polynices, to whom Antigone was perforce\ncontent to give the most meagre form of interment, obtains from\nCreon, when at last too late he repents, the full rite of cremation.\nAnd the tone too in which Herodotus once speaks of the two rites is\nsignificant: \u2018the funeral-rites of well-to-do Thracians,\u2019 he says, \u2018are\nas follows: the body lies in state for three days, and they slaughter\nall manner of victims and make good cheer, when once the preliminary\nlamentation is done; and then they dispose of the body by cremation\nor merely by interment\u2019--\u1f14\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b8\u03ac\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, \u1f22 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b3\u1fc7\n\u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2[1269]. The \u2018merely\u2019 plainly betrays Herodotus\u2019 own feeling\nthat well-to-do persons might be expected to have the advantage of\ncremation.\n\nIn the following centuries the preference for cremation would seem\nto have become even more pronounced; for though both rites still\ncontinued in use, separately as well as conjointly, Lucian was able to\ncall cremation the distinctively Hellenic rite[1270]. But more marked\nstill was the feeling in favour of cremation among those who upheld\nthe old Greek religion when first they had to face the invasion of\nChristianity. \u2018The heathen for the most part,\u2019 says Bingham[1271],\n\u2018burned the bodies of the dead in funeral piles, and then gathered\nup the bones and ashes, and put them in an urn above ground: but the\nChristians abhorred this way of burying; and therefore never used\nit, but put the body whole into the ground.\u2019 The conflict over this\nmatter was bitter. The pagans taunted the Christians with fearing\nthat, if their bodies were reduced to ashes by cremation, they would\nbe incapacitated for the vaunted resurrection[1272], and as a final\ninjury to Christian martyrs sometimes burnt their bodies and scattered\nthe ashes to the winds[1273]. The Christians in retaliation condemned\nthe rite of cremation as in appearance an act of cruelty to the dead\nbody[1274], and ridiculed the pagans for first \u2018burning up their\ndead in a most savage manner and then feasting them in a manner most\ngluttonous, using the flames alike for their service and for their\ninjury[1275]\u2019--for their service in cooking them a funeral-meal, for\ntheir injury in consuming them to ashes. The two now conflicting\nrites continued in use until the end of the fourth century of our\nera; for reference is made to them in the laws of Theodosius[1276].\nBut cremation must have been on the decrease; for Macrobius early in\nthe fifth century says that in his time the practice had fallen into\nentire desuetude, and all he knew of it was from reading[1277]. \u2018It\nis most probable,\u2019 says Bingham, \u2018that the heathen custom altered by\ndegrees from the time of Commodus the Emperor; for Commodus himself\nand many of his friends were buried by inhumation and not by burning\n... and from that time the custom of burning might decrease till at\nlast under the Christian emperors, though without any law to forbid it,\nthe contrary custom entirely prevailed, and this quite dwindled into\nnothing.\u2019 If this view be correct, it will mean that the old preference\nfor cremation exhibited by the adherents of paganism was only excited\nto temporary intensity by a spirit of antagonism towards Christianity,\nand that they soon returned to the old way of thinking and recognised\ninhumation as a method alternative, if slightly inferior, to cremation.\nWhen the bitterness of religious strife was over, and pagans and\nChristians lived more at peace together, the former may readily have\nresumed the practice of interment, which after all was their own\nheritage from dim ages long before the dawn of Christianity.\n\nBut though Macrobius in the fifth century speaks of cremation as then\nin disuse, the memory of it cannot have passed away so soon. Only a few\ngenerations were to lapse before the infusion of a Slavonic population\ninto Greece. Among the superstitions which these intruders disseminated\nwas one which concerned the resuscitated dead. The Greeks, as we have\nseen, themselves held a superstition on which the horrid imaginings\nof the Slavs were soon grafted; the common-folk became haunted by the\ndread of _vrykolakes_. How then did they deal with the bodies of such\ndead persons as were suspected? Not by adopting the Slavonic custom of\nimpaling them, but by a revival of cremation. The advantage which that\nrite possessed over burial was remembered; by its aid the dissolution\nof the dead could be rendered quick and sure. Thus cremation came\nonce more into use as a means to the same end as in old time--the\nquick dissolution of the dead body; but the motive for promoting that\ndissolution was, under the altered conditions, itself altered. Instead\nof love it was fear; instead of solicitude for the welfare of the dead,\nit was anxiety for the protection of the living.\n\nYet even so, the act of burning the _vrykolakas_ was a purely\ndefensive, not an offensive, measure. It was not an act of hostility\nor reprisal, but merely a necessary act of self-preservation, which\ninflicted no hurt on the _revenant_ but simply interposed an impassable\nbarrier between the living and the dead. The motive was fear; there was\nlittle or nothing of hatred mixed with it. This is made clear by the\nfact that cremation has been used even in recent times in a case which\nhad nothing whatsoever to do with the belief in _vrykolakes_, and where\nthe sole motive was the old desire to serve the interests of the dead.\n\nThe occasion was the evacuation of Parga in 1819. The inhabitants of\nthat town had long defied the Turks, but the end was at hand, and it\nwas only by the intervention of the English that they were saved from\nthe tender mercies of Ali Pasha. The English offered them asylum in\nthe Ionian Islands and obtained from the Porte on their behalf a sum\nof money which fully indemnified them for the houses and lands which\nthey abandoned. But in spite of the terms obtained, the emigrants never\nforgave the English for treacherously selling to the Turks, as they\nsaid, the home which they had defended so stoutly and so long[1278].\nThis evacuation of Parga forms the theme of some ballads which have\nbeen preserved[1279]. One of them runs as follows:\n\n    \u2018Bird of black tidings, that art come from yon confronting coastland,\n    Tell me what mean those sobs of woe, those dismal lamentations,\n    That rise aloud from Parga\u2019s walls and shake the very mountains.\n    Hath the Turk overwhelm\u00e8d her, do fire and sword consume her?\u2019\n      \u2018The Turk hath not o\u2019erwhelm\u00e8d her, nor fire and sword consume her;\n    The men of Parga have been sold, as ye sell goats and oxen,\n    And all must hie them thence to dwell in miserable exile.\n    They must leave all, the homes they love, the tombs of their own fathers,\n    The shrine whereat they bowed the knee, for infidels to trample.\n    Women in anguish rend their hair and beat their bare white bosoms,\n    Old men lift up their quavering voice in dismal lamentation,\n    Priests amid flowing tears strip bare the churches where they worshipped.\n    Dost see the glare of yonder fire? the pall of smoke above it?\n    There are they burning dead men\u2019s bones, the bones of valiant warriors,\n    Who made the hosts of Turkey quail and fired their captain\u2019s palace[1280].\n    Yonder, I tell thee, many a son his father\u2019s bones is burning,\n    Lest the Li\u00e1pid[1281] light on them, lest Turk upon them trample.\n    Dost hear the wailing manifold wherewith the woodlands echo?\n    Dost hear the beating of the breast, the dismal lamentation?\n    \u2019Tis that the parting hour has come, to part them from their country;\n    They kiss her very stones, they clasp her dust in fond caresses.\u2019\n\nThe incident in this ballad with which we are concerned is the\nexhumation and burning of the remains of those dead warriors who had\nvaliantly maintained the liberty of their native town; and there need\nbe little doubt that the incident is actually historical, for the story\nis confirmed by a second ballad in the same collection[1282]; but in\nany case all that concerns us here is the fact that the motive for such\nan act was known and appreciated by the authors of the two ballads.\n\nNow in order to understand this motive, it must be remembered that\nthe general custom of the Church in Greece is to exhume the bones of\nthe dead at the expiration of three years from the time of burial,\nwhen dissolution is expected to be complete. Hence the kinsfolk for\nwhose remains the men of Parga were concerned were those who had been\nrecently buried and could not yet have attained complete dissolution.\nThey feared that the Turks would disturb and desecrate the graves and\nthus obstruct the proper course of natural decay; and they therefore\ndecided to adopt the alternative method of disintegration, and by\ncremation to effect speedily and surely that end which, without\nfriends at hand to guard the graves from the molestation of foes and\ninfidels, could not be secured by leaving the dead to the slow action\nof the earth. This decision then reveals a clear recognition of the\nsuperiority of cremation over inhumation as a means of compassing the\nfinal dissolution of the dead; and equally clear is the motive for\nseeking that end; it was not fear on their own account--to that feeling\nindeed the men of Parga had proved themselves strangers--but simply\nlove and respect for the brave men who had fought, and perhaps had\nfallen, in the defence of freedom.\n\nSince then the exhumation and cremation of the dead constituted in\nthis case an act of love towards them, the same action in the case of\nsuspected _vrykolakes_ can never have been an act of hostility. It was\nrather a measure beneficial alike to the living and to the dead. To the\nliving it gave immunity from the assaults of _vrykolakes_, and this\nwithout doubt was commonly the uppermost or indeed the only thought\nin the minds of those who had recourse to it; but to the dead too it\ngave repose. And indeed I cannot but suppose that this is the reason\nwhy the Greeks, when first confronted with the horror of _vrykolakes_,\nchose to burn them rather than to follow the Slavonic custom of\nimpaling them. To impale them might have given security to the living,\nbut it appeared as an act of cruelty and hostility against the dead.\nCremation, by effecting immediate dissolution and the consequent\nseverance of the dead from this world, was bound to give equal security\nto the living, and at the same time was an act of mercy and kindness\nto the dead. In effect, the new motive of dread which came along with\nSlavonic influence never excluded the old motive of love which inspired\nthe sons of warriors at Parga no less than the chief of Homeric\nwarriors at his comrade\u2019s funeral, and perhaps will, if occasion arise,\nprove itself not yet extinct. Cremation, though often in recent times\nemployed primarily as a safeguard for the living, has all along been\nfelt to confer also a benefit on the dead, an even surer and speedier\nbenefit than inhumation secured.\n\nNow if this feeling existed, and if there existed also from early\ntimes, as I have shown to be probable, a system of combining cremation\nof a ceremonial kind with actual inhumation, it might reasonably be\nexpected that many who recognised the superior merit of cremation, but\nhad not the means to carry out so costly a rite in full, would have\navailed themselves of the inexpensive ceremonial practice. This, I\nbelieve, is what occurred, and in this I shall seek the explanation\nof a custom which, like the practice of real cremation, has been\nbequeathed by Ancient to Modern Greece.\n\nIn the funerals of Ancient Greece the procession, which escorted the\ndead body from the room where it had lain in state to the pyre or the\ngrave, carried torches. Where cremation was to be employed, these\nwere doubtless used for kindling the pyre; the fire brought from the\ndead man\u2019s home in this world was used to speed him on his way to the\nnext. But when inhumation was practised, what became of these torches?\nWas the fire brought from the dead man\u2019s home put to no purpose? Or\nwere the torches thrown into the grave along with him? That we cannot\ntell, for the torches were quickly perishable. But there is one object\ncommonly found in tombs which is suggestive of the association of\nfire with the buried body. That common object is a lamp. Here again\nwe cannot tell whether that lamp was lighted when it was put in the\ngrave. Some that have been dug up have certainly been in use, for they\nbear marks of the flame; but of course they may have been in every-day\nuse before they were devoted to the service of the dead. Yet the few\nfacts known would at least fit the theory that the procession which\ncarried out the dead man carried also fire from his home to the grave,\nand that either the torches themselves or a lamp lighted from them was\nput in the grave beside the body. If that view were correct, it would\nfurther be note-worthy that most of the lamps found are of little\nintrinsic value and of late date[1283]. Now the fact that they are\nmostly worthless implies that they were often given by poor persons,\nor, if the other contents of the grave be of value, that the lamp\nwas not brought as a gift for its intrinsic worth or beauty, but for\nsome practical purpose; while the fact that they are mainly of late\ndate means that the practice of putting them in the graves increased\nin frequency during the period which begins with the fifth century\nB.C.--that is to say, during that period in which we have already noted\nan increasing preference for cremation. Further the increase in the\nfrequency of lamps makes it improbable that they are to be reckoned\nas part and parcel of the ordinary furniture of a grave; for the\n_lekythi_ and other vases which were the ordinary gifts to the dead\nhad already in the fifth century assumed a conventional character. Any\nfresh departure therefore after that century, or any increase in the\nfrequency of one particular object among the contents of graves, must\nbe a sign of some new or more strongly marked feeling towards the dead.\nNow all these facts and inferences are intelligible on one hypothesis;\nand that hypothesis is that the lamps found in the graves were put\nthere lighted and burning, as the ceremonial minimum of the rite of\ncremation for which a growing preference is evident during some four\ncenturies before the Christian era.\n\nWhen we pass on to the early days of Christianity, a similar series of\nfacts meets our view. The Church officially rejected and reprobated\nthe practice of cremation. Converts therefore were bound to use\ninhumation; and this obligation probably excited the less repugnance,\nin that interment was no new thing to them, but had always been\nalternative, if slightly inferior, to cremation. But while even\ncheerfully obeying the law of the Church thus far, they clung to many\nof the details of their old funeral-custom, some of which were allowed\nby the Church, others disallowed. The practice of laying out the dead\nin rich and choice robes continued and called down strong rebuke\nfrom St Jerome[1284]; the excessive lamentation and the use of hired\nmourners at the lying-in-state provoked St Chrysostom to threats of\nexcommunication[1285]; yet both these customs still obtain. But the\ncustom of carrying torches in the funeral-procession was continued\nwithout even a protest on the part of the Church. Perhaps it was felt\nto be a harmless concession to ancient custom; perhaps then as now\necclesiastical taste even favoured the consumption of many candles in\nreligious ceremonies. At any rate the fact is clear that the pagan\ncustom of carrying torches in the procession held a place also in\nChristian ritual. What was the reason for which the common people\nheld to their old custom? The torches were not needed any longer\nto kindle pyres; for actual cremation was abolished by the Church.\nNor were they needed to give light to the procession; for Christian\nfunerals, except in times of persecution, took place in open daylight.\nThe reason was, I believe, that by means of these torches fire was\ncarried along with the dead from his home to his grave, and that there\na ceremonial act, a semblance of cremation, was combined with the rite\nof inhumation. And there are some indications that the fire brought to\nthe grave-side was actually associated in some way with the dead body.\nIn a disquisition \u2018about them that sleep,\u2019 which passed for a work of\nSt Athanasius[1286], there is a recommendation to burn a mixture of oil\nand wax at the grave of the dead; and though the practice inculcated\nis disguised as \u2018a sacrifice of burnt-offering to God,\u2019 it is possible\nto attribute it to a less Jewish and more Greek motive, a desire\nto keep up the old custom of cremation, be it only in a ceremonial\nform. Again we have evidence that the custom of burning lights at\nthe graves of the dead was commonly followed for some non-Christian\npurpose; for the Council of Eliberis saw fit to forbid it under pain of\nexcommunication[1287]. This non-Christian purpose will explain itself\nin the light of some modern customs.\n\nThere is a custom well known in Modern Greece which consists in the\nmaintenance of what is called \u2018the unsleeping lamp\u2019 (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1fc6\u03bb\u03b9). A fair general idea of it may be given by saying that after a\nfuneral a light is kept continuously burning either in the room where\ndeath took place or at the grave for a period of either forty days or\nthree years. This variation in time and place requires examination.\nIn customs, as in other things, there is a right way and a wrong way;\nvariety in observance is not original; there is a proper time and a\nproper place.\n\nFirst then, which is the proper place for this particular custom, the\nchamber of death or the grave-side?\n\nThe localities, in which that form of the custom which I shall show\nto be correct in this particular has come most conspicuously under my\nown observation, are Ar\u00e1chova, a village near Delphi; Leon\u00eddi on the\neast coast of Laconia; a cemetery in the Thriasian plain belonging,\nI think, to the village of Kal\u00fdvia; and the island of Aegina. In the\nlast-mentioned it is an ordinary lantern which is used; it is placed\nat the head of the grave, and for forty days after the funeral is so\ntrimmed and tended that the flame is not once extinguished. At Ar\u00e1chova\nand in the Thriasian plain each grave is provided with an erection\ncapable of sheltering a naked light. Some of the erections are like\ndoll\u2019s-houses with door and windows complete; others are mere boxes;\nothers again are no more than a few tiles or flat stones set on edge\nto form a square and covered over with a roof of the same material. At\nAr\u00e1chova the lamps contained in these erections are tended both evening\nand morning, and the obligation to keep them burning uninterruptedly\nfor three years, until the exhumation of the body, is strongly felt\nand scrupulously discharged. In the Thriasian plain the light is\nkept burning with equal care, but I am uncertain for what period. At\nLeon\u00eddi some shelters of the same kind as those described are in use;\nbut there are also more elaborate tombs at the head of which is built\na small recess below the level of the ground or at any rate under the\nslab of stone or marble which covers the grave, and in this recess,\nwhich is closed with a small door allowing the passage of air through\nits chinks, is placed \u2018the unsleeping lamp.\u2019 Here again the lights are\nkept burning until the exhumation takes place, and the lamps are fed\nand trimmed every evening. At Gytheion a device not dissimilar, though\nruder, was formerly employed; among some old graves, now neglected,\nfrom which, it appeared, the bones of the dead had never been exhumed,\nI noticed several plastered over with a rough concrete in which was\nsunk at the head of the grave an iron vessel, like a sauce-pan docked\nof its handle; this vessel had presumably served the purpose of\nsheltering a light.\n\nSuch then is the main aspect of this custom; but the preliminary\ndetails also require notice. The fire with which to light the\n\u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019 must not be kindled on the spot beside the grave,\nbut is conveyed from the house of the deceased. There, in general,\nthe moment that death takes place or at any rate so soon as the body\nis laid out in state, candles or lamps are lighted and are placed at\nthe head and at the foot of the couch on which the body reposes. These\nare kept burning until the funeral-procession is ready to start, and\nalong with the procession either the same lights or other tapers and\ncandles lighted from them are carried to the grave; and here the same\nfire which was burning in the house of the dead is transmitted to the\n\u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019 at the grave.\n\nThis I believe to be the correct form of the custom, but I must\nnotice other varieties and give my reasons for regarding them as\nless authentic. It is stated in a reliable treatise on the island\nof Chios[1288], that there the people keep a lamp burning for forty\nnights in the room where a death has taken place, thinking that the\nsoul wanders for forty nights before it goes down to Hades. The\ninterpretation given evidently implies that the lamp is intended to\ngive light to the spirit of the dead if in the course of its nightly\nwanderings it visits its former home.\n\nNow so far as the Chian form of the custom is concerned, some such\nmeaning might reasonably be assigned to it. But what of the more\nusual form of the custom by which the lamp is kept burning both night\nand day? A disembodied spirit, if it resemble an ordinary man, may\nreasonably be supposed to need a candle to see its way at night,\nbut surely it needs none in the day-time; yet it is only the custom\nof burning the light all day long as well as at night that can have\ngained for it the name of \u2018the unsleeping lamp,\u2019 the lamp that is never\nextinguished. Here then is a visible defect in the Chian manner of\nobserving the custom and likewise in the Chian manner of interpreting\nit; and a custom defective and misinterpreted in one important detail\nis open to suspicion in others. So far therefore as Chios is concerned,\nno great importance attaches to the fact that there the chamber of\ndeath is the place where the remnants of the custom are observed.\n\nBut there are other parts of Greece in which the death-chamber is the\nplace for the \u2018unsleeping lamp,\u2019 and where the lamp still deserves that\ndesignation inasmuch as it is kept burning both day and night until the\nfortieth day after the funeral, and is not, as in Chios, lighted afresh\neach night. In such districts, I believe, the custom has long ceased to\nbear any meaning, and being on the wane has for convenience undergone\na change. It is still felt to be obligatory to keep the flame that is\nlighted as soon as death has occurred burning constantly for forty\ndays, but the work of tending it has been found to be more conveniently\nperformed at home than in the grave-yard. The necessity to transmit\nthe flame to the grave, to keep it continuously in close proximity\nto the dead, is no longer felt. This form of the custom can then be\naccounted for as a relaxation of that which I have put forward as the\nold and correct form; whereas on the other hand if the room where\ndeath occurred had originally been the proper place for maintaining\nthe \u2018unsleeping lamp,\u2019 it would be impossible to account for the\ntransference of the custom to the grave-side, where special shelters\nor receptacles must be made for the protection of the flame and where\nmore trouble is needed to feed and to trim the lamps day by day.\nAr\u00e1chova and Leon\u00eddi where most pains are taken in the observance of\nthe custom--and that not for forty days only but for three years--have\nthe best claim to be regarded as the true exponents of the old custom.\nThe proper place for the \u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019 is the grave-side.\n\nBut there is a variation also, as I have said, in the period of time\nduring which this custom is kept up in different districts. In some it\nis a period of forty days, in others a period of three years; and in\nthis respect there is a divergence between the usages even of those\nplaces which in other details have been shown to adhere faithfully\nto the old custom; for at Ar\u00e1chova and Leon\u00eddi the longer period is\ncustomary, in Aegina the shorter. It is in this very variation that we\nfind a clue to the meaning and purpose of the custom. In the earlier\npart of this chapter I showed, by quotation from a popular dirge and by\nthe consideration of various customs connected with death, that in the\nbelief of the common-folk the dissolution of a dead body is effected\nby the fortieth day after burial. On the other hand the Church has\nmore prudently fixed three years as the time required for dissolution,\nthe period which must elapse before the body may be exhumed. Thus\nthere are two periods, fixed respectively by popular opinion and by\necclesiastical authority, between which there is a choice; the _vox\npopuli_ and the _vox Dei_ are here in disagreement; and according as\npreference is locally given to the one or to the other mandate, so is\na period of forty days or a period of three years locally believed to\nbe that required for the dissolution of the body. But these two periods\nare also those between which there is a local variation in the custom\nof maintaining the \u2018unsleeping lamp.\u2019 Hence it is reasonably to be\ninferred that the \u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019 is in some way closely connected\nwith the dissolution of the body.\n\nMoreover this connexion is actually recognised by the common-folk\nthemselves, as witness the following two couplets from a funeral-dirge.\nThe words are put, as so often in the dirges, in the mouth of the dead\nman, who in this instance is supposed to be young and to be addressing\nhis forlorn lady-love.\n\n    \u2018And when the priests with solemn song march toward the grave with me,\n    Steal thou out from thy mother\u2019s side and light me torches three;\n    And when the priests shall quench again those lights for me,--ah then,\n    Then, like the breath of roses, sweet, thou passest from my ken[1289].\u2019\n\nThese lines are based on a belief which is fairly general among the\nGreek peasants, that consciousness of, and concern for, the things\nof this world are not broken off finally at the moment of death, but\ncontinue in some degree until the body of the dead is completely\ndissolved. Here the memories of love are spoken of as lasting until\nthe priests quench the burning lights, which can be none other in the\ncontext than the \u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019--for three, the number mentioned,\nis merely a number of peculiar virtue and has no special force. It\nfollows then that the quenching of the lights is understood in the\npassage to denote the accomplishment of that process of dissolution,\nwhich, though it mean the cessation of all intercourse with this\nupper world, is yet earnestly desired. Here in fact are plain words\nof popular poetry which recognise the connexion of the \u2018unsleeping\nlamp\u2019 with the dissolution of the body, and make the quenching of the\none signify the completion of the other. It is going but a short step\nfurther to suppose that the presence of the lamp\u2019s flame at the grave\nwas originally intended to advance the process of dissolution--or, in\nother words, that the maintenance of the \u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019 at the grave\nuntil the body is finally dissolved is an act of ceremonial cremation.\n\nThis supposition gains yet more in probability when we compare with\nthe custom of the \u2018unsleeping lamp\u2019 another not dissimilar custom\nwhich obtains in Zacynthos. There, as elsewhere, candles or lamps are\nlighted about the dead body while it is lying in state, and fire from\nthem is carried to the grave. But, arrived there, instead of lighting\nan \u2018unsleeping lamp,\u2019 the bearers of the candles drop them into the\ngrave beside the corpse. In this we have a close parallel to the\nancient custom of putting a lamp, probably enough, as I have suggested,\na lighted lamp, into the grave; and at the same time it cannot but be\nintimately connected with the custom of the \u2018unsleeping lamp,\u2019 the\npurpose of which is now known to concern the dissolution of the dead\nbody. I claim then that the series of customs which we have reviewed,\nexhibiting as they do an intention to associate fire in some close\nway with the buried body and, as in the modern form of the custom, to\nassociate it therewith until the process of dissolution is complete,\nfind a common explanation in the continuance of a practice already\nexemplified in earlier ages, the practice of ceremonial cremation in\nconjunction with the full burial rite.\n\nNor is this explanation open to attack on the ground that a mere\nlamp lighted near the dead body bears so little outward resemblance\nto real cremation. To the outside observer the ceremonial act may\nseem a mere travesty of that for which it is substituted; but to the\npersons concerned the presence of fire, in however small a volume, may\nhave seemed sufficient; for in all ritual it is not the act, but the\nintention, which has value. I have already pointed out how interment\nwas occasionally reduced to an equally ineffective minimum; but I may\nperhaps cite a still closer parallel--another case in which a lamp\nis thought to have done duty for a real fire. There was in old time a\ncustom, to which several ancient writers refer[1290], of keeping a lamp\nburning both day and night in the Prytaneum or in the chief temple of\na Greek city; and both Athens and Tarentum are said to have had these\nlamps so constructed that they could hold a supply of oil sufficient to\nlast a whole year. Such lamps, it has been suggested[1291], represented\nthe fire on the city\u2019s hearth which was not allowed to go out. The\npurpose of the lamp was clearly not to give light--for then it need\nnot have been kept burning by day as well as by night--but it was a\nlabour-saving appliance for keeping the sacred fire ever burning.\nThe small flame was in fact a rudimentary fire. Thus all that I am\nsupposing is that a lamp could represent a real fire just as well at\nthe tomb as in the Prytaneum.\n\nIf then my explanation of the modern custom is right, the fact that the\ncommon-folk, though they have for many centuries employed inhumation\nas the ordinary Christian rite, have clung at the same time to a\nceremonial form of cremation which they still connect in some way with\nthe dissolution of the buried corpse, is additional proof of the favour\nwith which the quicker and surer rite was formerly, and perhaps here\nand there still is, regarded.\n\nThus then the study of ordinary funeral-usage has confirmed the\nconclusions drawn in preceding chapters from the study of a certain\nabnormal state of after-death existence. As incorruptibility was the\ngreatest bane to the dead, so dissolution was the greatest boon that\nthe living could give them. This dissolution was to be effected by\none of two methods, cremation and inhumation, which in theory were\nalternative but in practice were frequently combined. The combination\nof them was due in the first instance to the amalgamation of two\nraces to which they respectively appertained; but in later times the\nracial difference between the two rites was obliterated, and they\nwere judged on their own merits, with the result that a preference\nfor cremation manifested itself in funeral-usage. This preference was\ndue to a recognition that cremation was a quicker and surer method of\ndissolution, and is itself strong testimony to the desire to effect\ndissolution. The end to which both rites were directed was the same,\nbut since one led to that end more quickly and surely than the other,\nit was rightly preferred.\n\nFurther the motive which prompted the living to effect the dissolution\nof the dead was not in general selfish; for dissolution, as we have\nseen, was a boon to the dead. That complete severance from this world,\nwhich came with the dissolution of the body, was in some way for the\nbenefit of the dead. Patroclus sought for it, and Achilles granted his\npetition through love; and some three thousand years later the men\nof Parga are found effecting the rapid dissolution of their kinsfolk\nwith the same motive. Only in one set of circumstances was the selfish\nmotive of fear in operation, namely, where, the resuscitated dead\nwere, by the influence of Slavonic superstition, invested with the\ncharacter of malignant blood-thirsty monsters against whom self-defence\nwas imperative, and whose complete severance from this world was\ndesirable as a safeguard for the living. But such circumstances were\nthe exception. The rule was that cremation and inhumation alike were\nmeans to the dissolution of the dead and their complete severance from\nthis world, and the motive which prompted living men to seek that end\nwas love of the dead who would in some way benefit thereby.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1226] Bern. Schmidt, _Lieder, M\u00e4rchen, Sagen etc._, Folk-song no. 33.\n\n[1227] Cf. above, p. 389.\n\n[1228] See above, p. 307, note 1, and p. 313.\n\n[1229] The feasts at earlier dates, as on the third and ninth days,\nwill be shown later to be popular in origin. See below, pp. 530 ff.\n\n[1230] \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f21 \u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 82.\n\n[1231] _Op. cit._ p. 81. The form here is \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n[1232] \u0394\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03b8\u03bd\u03bf\u03bb. \u1f11\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1. \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, III. p. 337.\nThe form is \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n[1233] See above, p. 373.\n\n[1234] Soph. _Antig._ 256. Cf. Jebb\u2019s note _ad loc._, from which I take\nthe further references.\n\n[1235] Aelian, _Var. Hist._ V. 14.\n\n[1236] Aelian, _Hist. Anim._ V. 49.\n\n[1237] Cf. Fauriel, _Chants de la Gr\u00e8ce Moderne, Discours\nPr\u00e9liminaire_, p. 40; \u039c\u03b9\u03c7\u03b1\u1f74\u03bb \u03a3. \u0393\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f21 \u03bd\u1fc6\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03a3\u03cd\u03bc\u03b7, p. 46.\n\n[1238] _Early Age of Greece_, Vol. I. cap. 7.\n\n[1239] Bury, _History of Greece_, p. 41.\n\n[1240] Rohde, _Psyche_, cap. I.\n\n[1241] Hom. _Il._ VI. 417 ff., XXIII. 252 ff., XXIV. 791 ff.; _Od._ XI.\n72 ff. and XII. 11 ff.\n\n[1242] _Psyche_ I. pp. 31-32.\n\n[1243] Cf. Lucian, _De Luctu_ 14, \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u1fc6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c6\u03bb\u03b5\u03be\u03b5\u03bd \u1f23 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ce\u03c1\u03c5\u03be\u03b5\u03bd.\n\n[1244] Described in \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb. 1889, pp. 171 ff.\n\n[1245] Described in _Athen. Mittheilungen_, 1893, pp. 73-191.\n\n[1246] The perusal of Philios\u2019 narrative leaves the impression that\nseveral cases of cremation were discovered. Yet in his concluding\nsummary he says: \u201cBurial, not burning, of the dead was in those times\nthe more prevalent custom, since in one case and one only can we admit\nthat the corpse was not buried but burnt.\u201d I note that Br\u00fcckner and\nPernice (_op. cit._ p. 149) in referring to Philios\u2019 results tacitly\nsoften his rigid \u2018one and one only\u2019 into the more supple \u2018one or two.\u2019\nFor justification of this see Philios, _op. cit._ pp. 178, 179, 180,\n185.\n\n[1247] Hirschfeld, in _Annali_, 1872, pp. 135, 167, cited by Br\u00fcckner\nand Pernice _op. cit._ p. 148. \u039a\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03cd\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, in \u03a0\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70, 1873-4, p. 17.\n\n[1248] _Op. cit._ pp. 91 ff.\n\n[1249] _Op. cit._ p. 178.\n\n[1250] Br\u00fcckner and Pernice take this view of the fact, though the\nwords which they use are coloured by their acceptance of Rohde\u2019s theory\nof propitiatory offerings to the dead. \u2018Vor der Beerdigung, so scheint\nes nach den Funden des Herrn Philios, sind an der Grabst\u00e4tte des\n\u00f6fteren Brandopfer dargebracht worden.\u2019 _Op. cit._ p. 151.\n\n[1251] See _op. cit._ pp. 78-9.\n\n[1252] See above, p. 347.\n\n[1253] _Il._ XXIV. 719 ff.\n\n[1254] Cf. _Athen. Mittheil._ 1893, p. 103.\n\n[1255] Plutarch, _Solon_ 20.\n\n[1256] Lysias, _Or._ XII. 18, 19.\n\n[1257] Lucian, _de Luctu_, 12 and 13.\n\n[1258] _Hom._ 32 _in Mat._ p. 306.\n\n[1259] Preserved among the archives of Zante, which the kindness of Mr\nLeonidas Zo\u00ebs enabled me to inspect.\n\n[1260] _Psyche_, I. pp. 209 and 360. From this source I draw several of\nthe following references.\n\n[1261] Tsountas in \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb. 1888, p. 136.\n\n[1262] Plut. _Lycurg._ 27.\n\n[1263] Iambl. _Vit. Pythag._ 154.\n\n[1264] Pliny, _N. H._ XXXV. 160.\n\n[1265] Dem. _Orat._ 43 \u00a7 71.\n\n[1266] _Antig._ 1201. Prof. Jebb in his note on this passage expresses\nthe opinion that the \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bd\u03b5\u03bf\u03c3\u03c0\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 were not fuel: in view of the\nAttic law above cited I am inclined to dissent. He also takes \u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\nin Ar. _Eccles._ 1031 to mean \u2018olive twigs\u2019 and not, as more usual,\n\u2018vine-shoots.\u2019 I pass by the passage as doubtful evidence.\n\n[1267] Ross, _Arch. Aufs._ I. 31.\n\n[1268] Artemid. _Oneirocr._ IV. 57.\n\n[1269] Herod. V. 8.\n\n[1270] Lucian, _de Luctu_, 21.\n\n[1271] _Antiquities of the Christian Church_, Bk XXIII. cap. 2, whence\nI take the following references.\n\n[1272] Minucius, p. 32.\n\n[1273] _Acta Tharaci_ ap. Baron. an. 299, n. XXI., Ammian. Marcell.\nlib. XXII. p. 241, Euseb. lib. VIII. cap. 6.\n\n[1274] Tertull. _De Anima_, cap. 51.\n\n[1275] Tertull. _de Resur._ cap. 1.\n\n[1276] _Cod. Th._ lib. IX. tit. 17 _de Sepulcris violatis_, leg. 6.\n\n[1277] _Saturnal._ lib. VII. cap. 7.\n\n[1278] See Finlay, _History of Greece_, vol. V. pp. 274-6.\n\n[1279] Passow, _Popularia Carm. Graeciae recentioris_, nos. 222-224. I\ntranslate here no. 222.\n\n[1280] So I interpret, but without certainty, the words \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b2\u03b5\u03b6\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd, literally \u2018and they burnt the Vizir.\u2019\n\n[1281] The Li\u00e1pides were an Albanian tribe employed by the Turks.\n\n[1282] No. 223.\n\n[1283] Actual data on this point are difficult to obtain; but\narchaeologists whom I consulted in Greece were all agreed, that\nlamps are more frequent in graves of late date, most frequent in the\nGreco-Roman period.\n\n[1284] Hieron. _Vita Pauli_ 4, cap. 66.\n\n[1285] Chrysostom, _Hom._ 32 _in Mat._ p. 306.\n\n[1286] Cited by Durant, _de Ritibus_, lib. I. cap. XXIII. n. 14 (p.\n235). I have been unable to discover the original passage. Cf. Bingham,\n_op. cit._ XXIII. 3.\n\n[1287] See Bingham, _Antiquities of the Christian Church_, Bk XXIII.\ncap. 3 _ad fin._\n\n[1288] \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039d. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 341.\n\n[1289] These lines, or others in the same tenor, are well known among\nthe professional \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 (women hired to mourn at funerals).\nThe version which I here follow is given by Passow, _Popul. Carm._ no.\n377 A.\n\n    \u039a\u03b9\u2019 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bd\u03ac \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5 \u03c8\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2,\n    \u1f1c\u03b2\u03b3\u03b1 \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u1f70 \u2019\u03c0\u2019 \u03c4\u1f74 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b9\u2019 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03c8\u03b5 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2\u00b7\n    \u039a\u03b9\u2019 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bd\u03ac \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03b2\u03ad\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9\u03ac \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5,\n    \u03a4\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b2\u03b3\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03b9\u03ac \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n[1290] Theocritus XXI. 36 f.; Athenaeus 700 D; Pausan. I. 26. 7.\n\n[1291] Frazer, in _Journ. of Philol._ XIV. 145 ff.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE BENEFIT OF DISSOLUTION.\n\n\nThus far the investigation of customs and beliefs in ancient and modern\ntimes relating to the treatment of the dead has established the fact\nthat the dissolution of the body was a thing eagerly to be desired in\nthe interests of the dead. With complete disintegration the _summum\nbonum_ of the dead, so far as it was in the power of their surviving\nfriends to win it for them, was secured. It remains to consider in what\nway the dead profited thereby.\n\nNow I have hitherto spoken designedly of dissolution as a benefit,\nnot to the souls of the dead nor to their bodies, but simply \u2018to the\ndead\u2019 without further specification. It will now limit the range of\ndiscussion as to the nature of the _summum bonum_ to which dissolution\ngave access, if we can first answer the old question, _cui bono?_\nIs it the body alone or the soul alone or both conjointly on which\nthe benefit is conferred? This question once answered, we shall have\neliminated a certain number of possible conceptions of future happiness.\n\nThat the body alone might have been the recipient of the whole benefit\nis an idea which no one will entertain. Was it then the soul alone\nto which the dissolution of the body brought gain? Death, as we have\nlearnt, was not a complete and final severance of soul from body; the\nsoul might re-enter and re-animate the corpse. Was dissolution then\nbelieved to complete the severance?\n\nThe deliverance of the soul from the bondage of the body, the divorce\nof spirit from matter, is an idea which has appealed and does appeal to\nmany, and would therefore furnish a motive of considerable intrinsic\nprobability for the treatment which the Greek people have consistently\naccorded to their dead; the dissolution of the body, it might be\nsupposed, was desired and hastened in order that the soul might be\nfreed from its last link with this material world and pass away winged\nand unburdened towards things ethereal.\n\nBut such an explanation savours too much of philosophy and too little\nof popular religion. \u2018The rehearsal of death,\u2019 that is of the severance\nof soul from body, was according to Socrates the proper occupation of\nthe philosopher; and death itself was welcome to him as a final release\nof the soul, the true self, from the fetters of physical existence.\nBut the very emphasis which the whole of the _Phaedo_ gives to this\nidea, the insistence of Socrates that his real self is that which\nconverses with his friends and seeks to convince them of his views, and\nnot the corpse which they will soon be burying or burning as seemeth\nthem good[1292], suggest, if anything, that in the popular religion\nthe severance of soul from body was not desired, and the true self was\nnot conceived as a thing apart from body. At any rate the reason for\ndesiring dissolution must be sought from more popular sources.\n\nI return therefore to a passage[1293] on which I have already touched\nmore than once, the earliest passage of extant literature, in which a\ndead man is represented as craving the dissolution of his body. Why was\nit that the soul of Patroclus desired so urgently the last rites for\nhis body? Was it for the benefit of his soul only? Popular religion,\nas we have seen, did not reckon death a final severance of soul and\nbody; for the soul might return and re-animate the body. Was then\ndissolution believed to complete the severance, annihilating the body\nand emancipating the soul? Did the future happiness of the soul depend\nupon such emancipation? Did Patroclus, in the case before us, crave\ndissolution in order that his soul, finally severed from his body,\nmight find happiness?\n\nHomer certainly peoples the lower world with souls only, severed from\ntheir former bodies. It is clearly the soul only of Patroclus which\nwill pass the gates of Hades, when once his request for the burial\nof his body has been fulfilled; for it is \u2018the souls, the semblances\nof the dead[1294],\u2019 who bar his entrance thereto meanwhile. But\nthose souls are not happy souls. The house of Hades is not a place of\nhappiness; it is dank, murky, mouldering; and the souls themselves are\nnot of a nature to enjoy anything; they are feeble, impotent wraiths,\nmere semblances of men, all doomed to the same miserable travesty\nof life; the bodies from which they are now severed were their real\nselves[1295], and there remain now only impalpable joyless phantoms.\n\u2018Sooner,\u2019 cries the spirit of Achilles to Odysseus, \u2018would I be a serf\nbound to the soil, in the house of a portionless man whose living were\nbut scant, than lord over all the dead that are perished[1296]\u2019; for\nthe old valour even of Achilles avails him no more; his soul fares in\nthe house of Hades even as all others fare; all alike are doomed to\neverlasting futility in a land of everlasting gloom. Fitly is the soul\nof Patroclus said to have sped, at the moment of death, towards Hades\u2019\nrealm \u2018bewailing its fate in that it had left vigour and manhood[1297].\u2019\n\nHow then comes it that anon the same soul is eager to pass the gates of\nHades? Surely the wanderings of the dead Patroclus, whether in the form\nof a _revenant_ as the popular belief would have had it, or, according\nto Homer\u2019s version, as a disembodied spirit, would hardly be more\npitiable than the lot which he in common with all the dead must suffer\nbelow. Why then this eagerness?\n\nI can find nothing in Homer to justify it; it appears to me wholly\ninconsistent with the Homeric conception of the under-world.\n\nAnd this inconsistency is of wide bearing. The cases of Patroclus and\nElpenor are not isolated. The same eagerness for dissolution on the\npart of the dead has, as we have seen, been steadily recognised in all\nthe relations between the living and the dead from the days of Homer\nuntil now. That which is at variance with the Homeric conception of\nthe hereafter is not merely the petition of Patroclus, but the idea on\nwhich the funeral-customs of a whole people have been based for nearly\nthree thousand years.\n\nSuch a discrepancy cannot but force upon us the question how far the\nHomeric conception of the hereafter was the popular conception.\n\nThat the whole picture of the house of Hades and of the condition\nof the departed therein was not an Homeric invention is, I suppose,\nindisputable. Its two main features are the gloom of the place and the\nlack of distinction between the lots of those who dwell there[1298].\nOf these the first at any rate is frequent enough in later literature,\nand indeed held so firm a place in the Greek mind that \u2018to see the\nlight\u2019 became synonymous with \u2018to live in this upper world\u2019; and even\ndown to the present day both ideas live on. The constant epithets\nwhich Homer applies to the house of Hades, \u2018cold\u2019 (\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2) and\n\u2018mouldering\u2019 (\u03b5\u1f50\u03c1\u03ce\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2), are exactly reproduced in the epithets with\nwhich Hades, now a place instead of a person, is described in modern\ndirges--\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018frozen,\u2019 and \u1f00\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018thick with\nspiders\u2019 webs\u2019[1299]; and the same uniform misery of all the departed\nis likewise a common theme in the many songs that deal with Charon and\nthe lower world. All this could not have been effected by the influence\nof Homer alone, great though it was, if he had himself invented the\nwhole conception. It is clear that he utilised a conception which was\nbefore his time, and still is, a popular conception.\n\nBut there is equally good evidence of a totally different presentation\nof the future state. A fragment of one of Pindar\u2019s dirges contradicts\nthe Homeric description of the lower world in every point. \u2018Upon the\nrighteous the glorious sun sheddeth light below while night is here,\nand amid meadows red with roses lieth the space before their city\u2019s\ngate, all hazy with frankincense and laden with golden fruits; and\nsome take their joy in horses and feats of prowess, and others at\nthe draught-board, and others in the music of lutes, and among them\nevery fair flower of happiness doth blossom; and o\u2019er that lovely land\nspreadeth the savour of all manner of spices that be mingled with\nfar-gleaming fire on the gods\u2019 altars[1300].\u2019 So then this under-world\nis not cold and murky, but is warmed and lighted by the sun; its\ninhabitants are not frail spirits incapable of joy, but take their\npleasure as aforetime in the world above; nor is the lot of all the\nsame, for it is only the righteous who enjoy this bliss.\n\nThe popular character of this conception is equally clear. The\ndistinction between the varying fortunes of the dead--the hope of\nhappiness for some in contrast with the universal misery of the Homeric\nunder-world--is an idea which finds expression throughout ancient\nliterature; and if the house of Hades often remains none the less a\nplace of gloom, that is because the abode of the righteous is often\ntransferred to the islands of the blest, and the dark under-world\nleft as a place of punishment for the wicked. At the present day too\nthe same ideas are widely current among the common-folk. It is true\nthat the dirges more generally pourtray the lower world as wrapped\nin Homeric gloom, and the condition of the departed as monotonously\nmiserable; but the express purpose of these dirges, recited beside the\ndead body before it is carried out to burial, is to excite the mourners\nto a frenzy of grief, and the professional dirge-singer (for there are\nstill women in some parts of Greece who follow that calling) would soon\nlose her work if, instead of harrowing the feelings of the mourners,\nshe took upon herself to comfort them; her whole business is to move\nto tears those whom the bereavement itself has left unmoved, or to\nstimulate to fresh outbursts of lamentation those who are already spent\nwith sorrow. But in a few folk-songs is found the more cheerful belief\nthat the departed still continue the pursuits which they followed in\nthis life[1301]; while as for their abode, any peasant who should have\nthe Pindaric description of the future home of the blessed explained to\nhim, would unhesitatingly identify it with that which he himself calls\nParadise. Some points perhaps in that description would surprise him\nno less than they would please him, as for example the permission to\nplay draughts, but they would not obscure his recognition; the place of\nfair flowers and fruits and scents could be none other than Paradise.\n\u201cThe people of modern Greece,\u201d says a Greek writer[1302], ... \u201cunable\nto comprehend the idea of spiritual joys, consider Paradise a place\nof largely material and sensuous pleasures. The Paradise of the Greek\nfolk is watered by great rivers, ... and in it there grow trees which\ndiffuse odours sweet past telling.... Agreeably with this reception of\nthe idea of Paradise by the people, the fathers of the church also\nwere compelled to describe Paradise in terms of the senses as well as\nof the spirit, thus making certain concessions to popular feeling and\nideas. \u2018Some,\u2019 says John of Damascus[1303], \u2018have imagined a sensuous\nParadise, others a spiritual Paradise. For my part I think that, just\nas man himself has been created with senses as well as with spirit,\nso the most holy close (\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03ce\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) to which he has access\nappeals alike to the senses and to the spirit.\u2019\u201d The compromise in this\npassage is cleverly justified, but it has not lasted; the pagan part\nof it alone has survived, and the Paradise of the modern folk is none\nother than that abode which Pindar described. Even the rivers thereof,\nwhich are naturally desired above all things by the inhabitants of a\ndry and dusty land, were probably not absent from Pindar\u2019s picture;\nfor Plutarch, to whom we owe the preservation of the fragment, passes\nin one passage from actual quotation of the opening lines to a mention\nof smooth and tranquil rivers flowing through the land[1304]; and\nin the kindred picture of the Islands of the Blest, which Pindar\npaints elsewhere, he does not omit to mention the water wherewith the\ngolden flowers are refreshed[1305]; for in his eyes too water was\nthe best of earth\u2019s gifts, even as gold was the brightest of wrought\ntreasures[1306].\n\nIt was this high appreciation of water which first informed a custom\nprevalent all over Greece on the occasion of funerals. As the bier\npasses along the road, the friends and neighbours of the dead man empty\nat their doorway or from their windows a vessel of water, and usually\nthrow down the vessel itself to be broken on the stones of the road.\nThis custom is evidently very old, for in some places the use of the\nwater, the very essence of the rite, has become obsolete, and all that\nremains of the custom is the breaking of a piece of crockery. And even\nthough in most places the custom is observed in full, its meaning\nhas generally been forgotten, and curious conjectures have been made\nto explain it. Some interpret the custom as a symbol of that which\nhas befallen the dead man; the vessel is his body, the water is his\nsoul; the pouring out of the water symbolises the vanishing of the\nsoul, and the dead body will fall to pieces like the broken crock.\nOthers say that they pour out the water \u2018in order to allay the burning\nthirst of the dead man[1307],\u2019 a notion ominously suggestive of the\nboon which Dives sought of Lazarus. But the real purpose of the rite\nis still known in some of the Cyclades, where exactly the same custom\nis followed also on the occasion of a man\u2019s departure from his native\nvillage[1308], to live, as they say, in exile. And the purpose is to\npromote the well-being of the dead or of the exile in the new land\nto which he is going. The pouring out of the water is in fact a rite\nof sympathetic magic designed to secure that the unknown land shall\nalso be well-watered and pleasant and plentiful; and the breaking of\nthe vessel which held the water is due, I suppose, to a feeling that\nan instrument which has served a magical purpose must not thereafter\nbe put to profane and mundane uses. This custom then in itself bears\nwitness how wide-spread is, or has been, the conception of the other\nworld as a land of delight wherein the pleasant things of this world\nshall still abound.\n\nThus then it must be acknowledged that two contradictory popular\nconceptions of the hereafter have survived side by side as a twofold\ninheritance from the ancient world. The one pervades the whole of\nHomer; the other is best expounded in a fragment of Pindar[1309]; and\nthe fundamental difference between them is this, that the one consigns\nall the dead alike to gloom and misery, while the other distinguishes\nbetween the future fortunes of the righteous and the unrighteous, and\nholds out the hope of happiness in a yet brighter world than this.\nWhence came these two conceptions?\n\nThe world which Homer describes is the Achaean world, and I suspect\nthat his under-world is likewise the Achaean under-world. The Achaean\nreligion, as exhibited in Homer, is in no way profound. The gods are\nonly Achaean princes on a yet grander scale, endowed with immortality.\nMen\u2019s relations with them are eminently simple and practical;\nsacrifice is expected if prayers are to be answered. But both gods\nand men are concerned with this upper world only; death closes all\nrelations between them. The gods are unconcerned, unless it be for some\nspecial favourite; they live on Olympus as aforetime amid feasting,\nquarrelling, laughter, and love; but men leave these pursuits and\npastimes, and go down to the misery of Hades\u2019 house; their souls which\nfled lamenting from their limbs at the hour of death still exist,\nelse could they not appear to living men in the visions of night; but\ntheir existence is all misery, for they lack all that made this life\npleasant. Their joys had been the joys of a strenuous, full-blooded\nlife, the joys of battle, of feasting, of song, of comradeship; and\nthese joys were no more. The future existence of the soul was, to the\nAchaeans, simply the negation of the present bodily life.\n\nBut the religion of a later age was by no means so simple. The\nHomeric gods were still worshipped in the old way, and received\ntheir sacrifices in exchange for favours desired or granted. But\nthere was another element in religion of which Homer shows little\ntrace--an element of awe and mystery. Homer indeed names the Erinyes\nas beings concerned with the punishment of certain sins; but he shows\nno knowledge of that awful doctrine of blood-guilt which Aeschylus\nassociates with them; the murdered man\u2019s power of vengeance is wholly\nignored; for among the Achaeans the next of kin might accept a price at\nthe hands of the murderer, and allow him to remain in the land[1310],\nwithout himself incurring any pollution or any manifestation of his\ndead kinsman\u2019s wrath. Again Homer knows indeed of Demeter as a goddess\nconnected with the crops; but there is nothing in his casual mention\nof her to suggest that the mysteries of her worship transcended the\nrites of all the Olympian gods. Yet no one, I suppose, would imagine\nthat these profounder elements in ancient religion were of post-Homeric\ngrowth or could possibly have been evolved from the transparently\nsimple religion of the Achaeans.\n\nOn the contrary it is known that the more mysterious rites and\ndoctrines of the Greek religion were a legacy from the Pelasgians. That\nthe mysteries of Demeter were Pelasgian in origin is proved by the\nlocalities in which her worship most flourished, and is corroborated\nby the explicit statement of Herodotus[1311], who was disposed to\nrefer other mystic cults also to the same source[1312]. In fact the\nco-existence, or even the conflict, of the old Pelasgian and the newer\nAchaean religions is constantly recognised in ancient literature, and\nto the Pelasgian is ascribed all that most touched men\u2019s hearts, be it\nwith awe or with pity--with awe as in the conflict between the Erinyes\nand the new dynasty of gods whom Apollo and Athene represent, with pity\nin the dolorous struggle of Prometheus against the tyrant Zeus. The\nPelasgian religion, with all its horrors, drew the real sympathies of\nthe mystic Aeschylus; he could worship in deepest reverence Demeter\nand her mysteries[1313]; he could worship perhaps even the \u2018reverend\ngoddesses,\u2019 horrible though they were in their displeasure; but his\nheart must have been cold towards the usurping Olympian gods. There\nis true insight in that passage of Aristophanes[1314] where Aeschylus\nsummarises the benefits conferred by great poets on the Greek race,\nand praises Homer, the Achaean poet, for his lessons in discipline\nand valour and warfare, but Orpheus, sometimes reputed the founder of\nthe Pelasgian mysteries, for instituting religious rites and teaching\nmen to abstain from bloodshed. And the feelings of Aeschylus were\nthe feelings of his countrymen. The Athenians boasted of a great\nAchaean goddess as the foundress and patroness of their city, but\ntheir personal hopes of future happiness centred in the Pelasgian\nDemeter. The same generation of Athenians listened with delight to\nAristophanes\u2019 ridicule of those gods whom Homer accounted greatest, and\nwere aghast at the thought that the mysteries had been profaned. The\nAchaean gods, it would seem, made good figure-heads for the official\nreligion of the state; they served as majestic patrons of a city, or\nof a great national festival where religion was of less real account\nthan horse-racing, athletics, and commerce; but the hearts of the\npeople clave to the older, more awful, more mysterious deities of the\nPelasgians, and the holiest sanctuaries[1315] were those which had been\nholy long before the intrusion of the Achaean gods.\n\nIt was to this Pelasgian element in Hellenic religion that the doctrine\nof future rewards and punishments belonged; for, as we shall see more\nfully in the next chapter, participation in the Pelasgian mysteries\nof Demeter at Eleusis was held to be an earnest of future bliss, from\nwhich the impure or uninitiated were excluded.\n\nThus then there were two popular conceptions of the future life--the\nAchaean conception of universal misery in a cold and gloomy\nunder-world, and the Pelasgian conception which distinguished between\nthe lots of the righteous and the unrighteous, and held out to some\nmen the promise of bliss. Now with the former conception, as we have\nalready seen, the belief that the dead eagerly desired dissolution\nis utterly inconsistent; none could be in haste to pass the gates of\nHades with the prospect of nothing but misery within. But where there\nwere hopes of happiness, the eagerness for dissolution as a means of\nattaining thereto is at once intelligible. This desire then, which has\nconstantly pervaded the mind of the Greek people and has furnished the\nsingle motive of their funeral-rites down to the present day, is of\nPelasgian origin; and if Homer borrowed it and incongruously combined\nit with a purely Achaean presentation of the under-world, we must no\nmore judge of its real meaning by the Homeric setting of it than we\nwould form an opinion of the place of the Erinyes or of Demeter in\nGreek religion by Homer\u2019s occasional references to them.\n\nThe fact then that Homer, in accordance with the Achaean religion,\nconsidered the dissolution of the body to mean the annihilation of\nthe body and represented the soul as alone entering into the lower\nworld is wholly immaterial to the present enquiry. It is the Pelasgian\nconception of future bliss with which we are concerned; for that alone\ncan account for the eagerness of the dead to obtain dissolution. What\nthen are the blissful occupations of the righteous in the other world?\n\u2018Some,\u2019 says Pindar, \u2018take their joy in horses and feats of prowess,\nand others at the draught-board, and others in the music of lutes.\u2019\nClearly these dead are very different beings from the souls which\npeopled the Homeric under-world. Athletics could be no pastime for\nfeeble unsubstantial spirits; the game of draughts would be ill suited\nto them that have no mind in them[1316]; and those whose thin utterance\nis like the squeak[1317] of a bat would get and give little pleasure\nby singing to the lute. No; the pursuits of the dead as depicted by\nPindar are the pursuits which men of flesh and blood enjoy; and the\nabode in which they dwell, the paradise of flowers and fruits and sweet\nodours, is an abode to gladden men of flesh and blood. But a people\nwhose ideal of future bliss lay in bodily enjoyments cannot surely have\nlooked forward to the annihilation of the body and the survival of the\nsoul alone; the joys which they anticipated hereafter presupposed the\ncontinuance of some kind of bodily existence.\n\nSuch a notion moreover cannot but seem more in harmony with the whole\nspirit of the Greek world than the Homeric doctrine of the survival\nof the soul only. A nation so conspicuous for their love of human\nbeauty and their delight in the human form could not have viewed the\nextinction thereof with any feeling other than the most poignant\nregret--a feeling which, as we know, the Homeric doctrine did actually\ninspire in those who accepted it. The more thoughtful and hopeful\nreligion of the Pelasgians, unless it had anticipated the philosophy\nof Plato in decrying the body and exalting the soul--an idea of which\nthere is no trace--was bound to give promise that body as well as soul\nshould survive death and dissolution.\n\nAgain it may fairly be claimed that in any religion of a profounder\ncharacter than the Achaean, in any religion which contains some\npositive ideas of the future life and does not view it merely as the\nnegation of the present life, that which men hope to become in the\nfuture state is something more similar to the deity or deities in\nwhom they believe. Their conception of godhead and their conception\nof their own condition after death are of necessity founded upon the\nsame ideal of happiness--a happiness which the gods already enjoy and\nwhich men hope to share. The Buddhist looks forward to the day when he\nshall become like his deity--even one with his deity--clean from the\ngrossness of matter, free from bodily desires and necessities, spirit\nunalloyed. The Christian believes in a God who became man and survived\nthe death of man not in the form of a spirit only but with flesh and\nbones, and he himself looks forward to the resurrection of the body.\nSocrates held that wisdom and goodness were one and pertained to the\nsoul only, and the God into whose presence his soul would pass after\ndeath was \u2018the good and wise God,\u2019 rightly called Hades, that is, the\ninvisible and spiritual, with whom the soul has kinship[1318]. But\nwhat of the ordinary Greek? His gods were not invisible or spiritual.\nPelasgian and Achaean deities alike were beings of flesh and blood,\nrobust, active, sensuous; they ate and drank, they waked and slept,\nthey married, they begot or bore children. Such was the Greek\u2019s\nconception of godhead, such his ideal of blessedness. How then should\nhe look forward to the annihilation of the body with any feeling but\ndismay? How could his hopes of future bliss not involve of necessity a\nbelief in the survival of both body and soul?\n\nI suggest then that the dissolution of the body, which the dead so\neagerly desired, far from being regarded as a final and complete\nseverance of soul and body, was in the Pelasgian religion the means of\ntheir re-union in another world. Death was only a temporary severance\nof the two entities which together form a living man capable of\nenjoying physical pleasures. The soul at the moment of death went down\nto the nether world in advance, or, it may be, as is sometimes held\nby the peasants of modern Greece[1319], hovered about the body until\nits dissolution was complete. But the dead body certainly remained in\nthis world, at the place where it lay evident to men\u2019s eyes; it could\nnot pass to the other world at once; it could not ever pass thither\nwithout the assistance of friends still living; it was too gross and\ntoo impotent, bereft of the soul, to make its own way to the home of\nthe dead. Therefore upon the survivors was imposed the sacred charge\nof resolving it into elements more refined, and of enabling it thus to\npass out of human touch and sight to a home which the soul could reach\nunaided. When this process was effected by inhumation, the period of\nforty days required for complete dissolution was the critical period\nin the dead man\u2019s existence; if the body was \u2018bound\u2019 and indissoluble\nfor any cause and the soul re-entered it before the proper time, the\n_revenant_ was a pitiable wanderer, sharing in the joys neither of this\nworld nor of the next; the mourners therefore took such measures as\nthey could to prevent that calamity, by entertaining the acquaintances\nof the dead man and prevailing upon them to revoke any curses wherewith\nhe was bound, and by laying in the dead man\u2019s mouth a charm which\nshould bar the soul\u2019s re-entry. When cremation was employed, the\ndissolution of the body was more speedy and more sure; and it is not\ntherefore difficult to understand that the Pelasgians, conscious\nthough they must have been that in religion they were as far in advance\nof the Achaeans as in material civilisation they were behind, should\nhave early adopted the use of fire in the interests of the dead. But\nno matter which rite was employed, the ultimate effect was the same;\nthe heavy, helpless corpse that had been laid upon the pyre or in the\ngrave vanished, and nought but the bones remained. Whither then had it\nvanished? How had the visible become invisible? Surely by passing from\nthis visible world to the world invisible. There is nothing to suggest\nthat this disappearance meant to the Greeks annihilation; that word\nindeed had no counterpart in their speech; the strongest term of the\nGreek language by which one might attempt, and would still fail, to\nrender the word \u2018annihilate,\u2019 would be \u1f00\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd or \u1f00\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd, \u2018to make\nunseen.\u2019 And on the other hand their conception of future happiness in\nanother world is positive evidence that they believed dissolution to\nmean not annihilation, but the vanishing of the body to be re-united\nwith the soul in the unseen world.\n\nI am of course far from suggesting that these views which I have\nsketched formed a definite religious doctrine to which every Greek\nwould have subscribed. No people have evinced greater liberty of\nthought on religious matters; no people have been less hampered\nby hierarchical limitations and the claims of authority; nowhere\nhave wider divergences of religious opinion been tolerated; nowhere\nelse have the advocates of material philosophies and of spiritual\nphilosophies been brought into sharper contrast and yet held in equal\nrepute. But it is not with the vagaries of individuals and the new\ndepartures of great thinkers that I am concerned; my purpose is simply\nto trace the general trend of thought as regards the relation of body\nand soul after death among the mass of the Greek people.\n\nAnd in so doing I fully realise the danger of over-statement. Probably\nthe mass of mankind in religious matters perform many acts without full\nconsciousness of their motive; they instinctively follow tradition\nwithout enquiring into the meaning and the mutual relation of the\ncustoms with which they comply; and if ever they try to justify to\ntheir reason the acts to which instinct prompts them, they may be at\na loss to form a consistent theory out of the several motives which\nthey would assign to the several acts. If therefore I try not only\nto disengage from among the network of religious and philosophical\nspeculation a thread of simple popular belief, but also to present\nthat thread unknotted and continuous, I may be attempting that which\nthe mass of the Greek people seldom and with difficulty performed\nfor themselves. To enunciate as a doctrine that which may have been\na subconscious or only partially realised belief--to present as a\nconsistent theory ideas which, separately apprehended, formed the\nacknowledged motives of separate acts, but whose mutual relations were\nseldom investigated--to formulate in words that which may have been no\nmore than a vague aspiration of men\u2019s hearts--this is necessarily to\nover-state. There lies the danger. But for my part, while admitting\nthat in all probability there was among the Greek people of old,\nas among the Greek people and others too to-day, a large amount of\nunintelligent religion, I claim that some such conception as I have\noutlined of the relation between soul and body and of their future\nexistence is the only possible explanation of the manifold customs and\nbeliefs relating to death and dissolution which have been discussed,\nand fairly represents the general trend of thought among the inheritors\nof the Pelasgian religion.\n\nThis conclusion is not a little strengthened by the evidence of a\ncustom common to both ancient and modern Greece, which presupposes\nthe continuance of physical desires and needs after death. To make a\npresent of food indicates a belief on the part of the donor that the\nrecipient can eat; to make a present of clothing implies a belief that\nthe recipient has a body to be covered; and it is these two things,\nfood and clothing, the elementary requisites of living men, which have\nmost constantly been brought, either at the time of the funeral or\nlater, as gifts to the dead. Other gifts there were also in different\nages; treasures of wrought gold for the princes of Mycenae; articles of\nthe toilet for Athenian ladies whose first care even beyond the grave\nwould be their complexion; toys for the children. But while each grave\nthat is opened may tell its own story, humorous or pathetic, of those\ntastes and pursuits of the occupant for which the same provision was\nmade in the next world as in this, it is in the supply of the common\nnecessaries of all mankind that the popular Greek notions concerning\nthe dead are most clearly revealed; for the custom has continued\nwithout intermission or sensible alteration down to this day.\n\nIn the Mycenaean age the dead were supplied with a store of food at the\ntime of the funeral, but there is no evidence to show whether the gifts\nwere renewed subsequently[1320]. I incline to suppose that they were;\nfor the belief of later ages in some sort of bodily existence after\ndeath has already been traced back to the Pelasgians; and the custom\nof later ages therefore of continuing to supply the dead with bodily\nnecessaries was probably derived from the same source. But in any case\nthe Mycenaean custom of providing food for the dead at the time of the\nfuneral is sufficient proof that the dead were thought to have bodily\nneeds, and therefore also bodily existence.\n\nThe Achaeans of the Homeric age seldom presented the dead man with\ngifts of food at the funeral, and never apparently afterwards. The\nonly gift, if such it can be called, which was commonly burned along\nwith the dead body was the warrior\u2019s own armour; but it is so natural,\nquite apart from any religious motive, for a soldier\u2019s body to be laid\nout arrayed in its wonted accoutrements and to have, as it were, a\nmilitary funeral, that little importance can attach to it. Other gifts\nwere rare. The funeral of Patroclus is quite exceptional, and, like\nthe return of Patroclus\u2019 soul with its urgent petition for burial,\nseems wholly inconsistent with the Homeric presentment of after-death\nexistence. The soul being doomed to a shadowy impotent semblance of\nlife could have no part in physical needs or pleasures[1321]. Nor does\nHomer enlighten us as to the purpose of the abundant gifts, which\nincluded not only food but slaughtered dogs and horses[1322]; he speaks\nonly of providing \u2018all that it beseemeth that a man should have when\nhe goeth beneath the murky gloom[1323].\u2019 Indeed I question whether\nHomer had any clear conception of their utility; they seem rather\nto have been vaguely honorific; and since the custom of making such\ngifts is neither usual in Homer nor in harmony with his idea of future\nexistence, I hold it likely that once again he was drawing upon the\nPelasgian religion in order to give to the last rites of Patroclus the\nmaximum of splendour.\n\nThe Dipylon-period puts an end to all uncertainty; thenceforward down\nto the present day the Greek custom of providing the dead with the\nnecessaries of bodily life will be found to have been uniform and\ncontinuous. There has been no interruption of the simple practice of\nproviding the dead with food both at the time of the funeral and at\nstated intervals thereafter. For the Dipylon-period this has been\nproved by the contents of the graves and by the strata of burnt soil\nobserved at Eleusis[1324] above them. The same phenomena continue\nto present themselves also in the case of later graves at Athens,\ncertainly down to the third century B.C., and, though any detailed\ndescription of graves of a still later date is hard to find, the custom\nunquestionably still prevailed; for literary evidence, overlapping that\nof archaeology at the start, carries on our knowledge of the custom\ninto the Christian era.\n\nThe _Choephori_ of Aeschylus takes its very name from the practice of\npouring wine or other beverages on the graves of the dead for them\nto consume; and the word \u03c7\u03bf\u03b1\u03af was specially applied to this kind of\nlibation as opposed to the \u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03b2\u03b1\u03af or \u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03af wherewith gods were\npropitiated. Similarly the Greek language possessed a special word for\ngifts of food (or other perishable gifts such as flowers) brought to\nthe graves of the dead; these were called \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 in strict contrast\nwith the sacrifices (\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03b9, etc.) by which gods were appeased[1325].\nThese presents of food were regularly made on two occasions at least\nafter the funeral; there were the \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1 brought, according to modern\ncomputation, on the second day, and the \u1f14\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 on the eighth day: how\nregular was the custom of bringing them may be judged from the passing\nreferences of Aristophanes[1326], Isaeus[1327], and Aeschines[1328].\nIn addition to these two meals there were others either on the\nthirtieth day after the funeral or on the thirtieth of each month--for\nthe interpretation to be put on the term \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2[1329] seems\ndoubtful--also \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1[1330], apparently a birthday-feast given to\nthe dead, and \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1[1331] to commemorate the anniversary of the\ndeath. The exact details of date however are of minor importance;\nthe significant fact is this, that at certain intervals after the\nwell-known \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd or funeral-feast, held on the day of burial,\nother meals were served to the dead; and the Greek words themselves\ncorroborate the view that \u2018meals,\u2019 not \u2018sacrifices,\u2019 is the right\nterm to use; for as the funeral-feast is \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, so also the\n\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1 are called by Artemidorus[1332] not \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f70 but \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c0\u03bd\u03b1. These\nmeals, being burnt over the place where the dead body lay, or being\ndeposited unburnt in some large vase set up at the head of the grave,\nwere thereby devoted to the use of the dead and became \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 in\nthat curious half-way sense between \u2018sacred\u2019 and \u2018accursed\u2019 for which\nour language has no equivalent save the imported word \u2018taboo\u2019--objects\ndevoted to a sacred purpose and bringing the curse of desecration on\nanyone who should pervert them to another use. The Greek language then\nwas careful to mark the difference between gifts presented to the\ndead and propitiatory offerings made to the gods; and the difference\nwas observed, not because the presents differed in kind, but because\nthe conceptions of their purposes were different. The gods demanded\nsacrifices under pain of their displeasure; the dead needed food as\nliving men need it, and their friends supplied it, not in fear, but in\nlove.\n\nThese old pagan customs were at first discountenanced by the\nChurch[1333]. But the common people clung to them with great\ntenacity[1334], and after a while they appear to have received even\nofficial encouragement; for St Anastasius Sinaites, bishop of Antioch\nduring the latter half of the sixth century, enjoined the observance of\nthem, and in so doing used some of the old names by which the customs\nwere known in pre-Christian times. \u2018Perform,\u2019 he wrote, \u2018the offices\nof the third day (\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1) for them that sleep, with psalms and hymns,\nbecause of him who rose from sleep on the third day, and the offices\nof the ninth day (\u1f14\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1) to remind those that yet live of them that\nhave fallen asleep, and the offices of the fortieth day according to\nthe old law and form (for even so did the people mourn for Moses),\nand the offices of the anniversary in memory of the dead, with gifts\nfrom his substance to the poor as a remembrance of him[1335].\u2019 In this\npassage the cloak of Christian decency which St Anastasius provided\ndoes not entirely cover the nakedness of heathen superstition. There is\nindeed much aetiological skill in the saint\u2019s manipulation of Biblical\nreferences; but the \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1 and \u1f14\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 practised in his day, despite the\naddition of Christian prayers and hymns, were without doubt the same\nin essence as those to which Aristophanes and others allude--meals\nprovided for the dead; for such indeed they still remain.\n\nAt the present day the funeral service usually concludes with a\ndistribution of baked-meats and wine to the company assembled at the\ngrave-side, and a share of both is given to the dead. In some districts\nthis function means more than the serving of light refreshments, and\nthe grave-side becomes the scene of a substantial meal, from which\nhowever meat is excluded; for, owing to Christian ideas of fasting, it\nis generally held to be \u2018spiritual\u2019 for the mourners to abstain from\nmeat for the period of forty days. It is to this meal at the graveside\nthat the word \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 seems to be properly applied, in the sense of\na \u2018feast of blessing,\u2019 and it obviously corresponds with the term\n\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u2018blessed,\u2019 which was in antiquity, and still remains, the\nGreek equivalent of our \u2018deceased\u2019 or \u2018late.\u2019\n\nSubsequently, in the evening after the funeral or even on two or\nthree evenings thereafter, the nearer friends and relatives of the\ndead assemble for another funeral-feast. This meal, which in ancient\ntimes was called the \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd is now commonly known as the\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1[1336] or \u2018comforting.\u2019 It is held in the house of the nearest\nrelative[1337], as was done in the time of Demosthenes[1338], and its\nmodern name seems to indicate that the \u2018consolation\u2019 of the bereaved is\nits chief purpose; and certainly some temporary solace is on many such\noccasions poured into the mourners\u2019 breasts; for the Greek peasants,\nalways abstemious save on certain great festivals such as Easter and\nthese funeral-parties, make no scruple of drinking and pressing their\nhost to drink until a riotous cheerfulness prevails. But though the\nfeast is designed to assuage the grief of the living, the dead are not\nforgotten; for a special portion of food is often sent to the grave\nfrom the house of mourning before the guests of the evening arrive.\nThus, though the dead is not felt to have any part in the actual \u2018feast\nof comforting\u2019--for this feast is really provided by the guests, who\nbring their own contributions of food and wine, while the host provides\nonly the accommodation for the company[1339]--yet the physical needs of\nthe departed are satisfied on this first day beneath the earth in the\nsame measure as when he was above ground. Two meals are provided, one\nimmediately after the funeral, the other in the evening.\n\nNor is the nature of this food lacking in interest. Locally indeed many\nvarieties may be found, the gifts including such ordinary comestibles\nas bread, cheese, olives, caviare of the baser sort, _pil\u00e1f_ (the\nwell-known Turkish dish of which the main ingredients are rice and\noil), and probably indeed anything, save meat, which the peasant\u2019s\nlarder can supply; but the most generally approved viand is a specially\nbaked flat cake spread with honey. Now it will be remembered that jars\nof honey were among the gifts of food on the pyre of Patroclus[1340],\nbut a more striking coincidence is to be found in Aristophanes\u2019 mention\nof a \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1 or honey-cake in connexion with a funeral. \u2018What,\u2019 says\nLysistrata mockingly to the old deputy (\u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2), \u2018what do you mean\nby not dying? You shall have room to lie; you can buy a coffin; and I\nmyself will knead you a honey-cake at once[1341].\u2019 From this passage\nit would appear that not only has the custom of providing food for the\ndead remained in force from very early days, but even the kind of food\nhas not changed in more than two thousand years. The honey-cake, though\nno longer known as \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1, in reference to its chief attraction,\nbut \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03cc\u03c0\u03b7\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1[1342], \u2018soul-cake,\u2019 in reference to the occasion of its\nmaking, is still apparently prepared according to a classical recipe,\nand sweetness still gratifies the palate of the dead.\n\nThe dates subsequent to the funeral at which food is provided for\nthe dead have already[1343] been mentioned. Where the custom is most\nfully observed, these are the third, sixth, ninth, and fortieth\ndays, the last days of the third, sixth, and ninth months, and three\nanniversaries, the last of the three being also usually the day for\nthe exhumation of the bones. But in many villages the custom is less\nextended, and it is held sufficient to observe in this way the third,\nninth, and fortieth days[1344] and the first anniversary. This minimum\nof modern practice, it will be observed, is the exact tale of days\nrecommended for observance by St Anastasius, and without doubt the\nsanction of the Church has helped to preserve the custom.\n\nThe Church likewise is wholly responsible for the name by which these\ndays are known, \u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1 or \u2018memorial-feasts\u2019; and it would be wrong\nto infer therefrom that the peasants attach no meaning to these rites\nsave that which the name \u2018memorial-feast\u2019 suggests. Rather it would\nseem that the Church in permitting the continuance of a pagan custom\ntried to diminish its significance. The words of St Anastasius make\nit clear that such was his attitude. He bids that the anniversary be\nobserved \u2018in memory of the dead, with gifts from his substance to the\npoor as a remembrance of him\u2019; and the repetition contained in the\nphrase shows in what aspect he wished the custom to be viewed. But as\na matter of fact the real purpose of the custom was not to keep green\nthe memory of the dead by charitable distributions of his goods, but\npartly, as we have seen, to induce those persons who were invited to\nthe feast to forgive the dead man and to revoke any curses with which\nthey had bound him, and partly to minister to the dead man\u2019s own bodily\nneeds; and in spite of ecclesiastical influence to the contrary, this\ntwofold purpose is still generally recognised, and that portion of the\nfood which is not consumed by the company invited or by the priests,\nbut is actually left on the grave, is honestly intended as nourishment\nfor the dead body there interred.\n\nThis motive was fully appreciated by a French traveller of the\nseventeenth century; describing these grave-side feasts, he says,\n\u2018Frequent presents of cakes, wine, rice, fruits, and other eatables,\ndecked out with flowers and ribbons, are taken to the tomb.\u2019 There,\nhe continues, the priest blesses the food and takes a good share of\nit, and a feast is then held \u2018wherein they seek to make the dead\nman participate as well[1345].\u2019 Thus even now, after centuries of\nChristianity, there seems to be no change of feeling among the\ncommon-folk, and their intention, or one part of it, is still best\nsummed up in the phrase of Euripides, \u2018to render sustenance unto the\ndead[1346].\u2019\n\nThe food proper to these meals subsequent to the day of the funeral is\nknown as \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1. It consists of grain, usually wheat, boiled whole,\nand thus closely resembles the English \u2018frumenty.\u2019 It is sometimes\ngarnished and made more palatable by the addition of sugar ornaments,\nalmonds, raisins, and pieces of pomegranate, but the essential thing\nis boiled grain[1347]. How the word \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1 obtained this meaning is\nnot known to me[1348]; but the food itself is quite probably a legacy\nfrom the ancient world. The _silicernium_ or funeral-feast of the\nRomans took its name apparently from _siliquae_, some kind of pulse,\nwhich must therefore be supposed to have formed the chief dish; and\nbeans are at the present day an important part of the funeral-meats in\nSardinia[1349]. It is not unlikely therefore that the use of boiled\nbeans or grain in the service of the dead is an old custom common to\nthe coasts of the Mediterranean. The honey-cake on the day of the\nfuneral is of ancient prescription; the boiled wheat on later occasions\nmay equally well be so. At any rate the principle of supplying the dead\nwith meals both at the funeral and on certain fixed days thereafter\nremains absolutely unchanged, and the custom is still understood to be\na means of ministering to the bodily needs of the dead.\n\nAnd as with the gifts of food, the ancient \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, so also with\nthe gifts of drink, the ancient \u03c7\u03bf\u03b1\u03af. It is on record that among the\nGreeks of Macedonia, Cappadocia, and other outlying districts[1350],\nthe custom of pouring out red wine on the graves of the dead at the\nso-called memorial-feasts is still sedulously observed; and though I\nhave nowhere witnessed the practice, I have been told on good authority\nthat in Aegina also and in some parts of Crete it is in vogue. For the\nuse of water I can myself answer; and it is not a little interesting to\nobserve that while the dates on which food is set before the dead man\nhave been somewhat conventionally limited in number, water, the prime\nnecessary of life, is often taken to the grave daily[1351] up to the\nfortieth day.\n\nAgain, in the matter of providing clothing for the dead, ancient\npractice is well known. A store of raiment was buried with the dead,\nand so great a store that it was necessary for Solon to impose a\nlegal limit by which three outer garments (\u1f31\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1) were named as\nthe maximum[1352]. But this restriction applied only to the actual\nfuneral, and did not prohibit renewed gifts of clothing at subsequent\ndates. To judge from a passage of Thucydides, this was an annual duty.\nThe Plataeans, in their appeal to the Lacedaemonians for protection,\nare made to plead their performance of this kindness as a claim upon\nSpartan gratitude. \u2018Turn your eyes,\u2019 they say, \u2018to the tombs of your\nfathers, who fell in the Persian wars and were buried in our land. Year\nby year we were wont to do them honour at the public charge with gifts\nof clothing and all else that is customary[1353].\u2019\n\nSome vestiges of this custom remain to the present day. The dead are\ncommonly dressed in their best clothes for the lying-in-state and for\nthe procession to the grave, during which, it must be remembered, the\nbody is always carried on an open bier, exposed to view. Often too\nthese clothes are buried with the dead; but sometimes when, as among\nthe poorer peasant-women, the richly-embroidered festival dress is\ntoo costly a thing thus to abandon, and is handed down as an heirloom\nfrom mother to daughter, the body is stripped at the grave-side of its\nfine array; and indeed so far, I am told, has the custom degenerated\nin Athens and some of the other towns, that costumes of special\nmagnificence may be hired from the undertakers and sent back from the\nchurchyard to them. In such cases the old meaning of the custom is\nlost, and a vulgar desire for pomp and parade has taken its place. But\namong the simpler folk of the country this is not the case; for, apart\nfrom the custom of burying the dead in their best clothes, there is\nin the folk-songs mention of gifts of clothing and other necessaries\nof life sent by the hand of one recently dead to those who have gone\nbefore[1354].\n\nIt appears then that the ancient custom of providing for the bodily\nwants of the departed is still alive, still significant; and surely it\nis incredible that a people who for more than two thousand years have\ncontinued to resort to the graves in which the dead bodies of their\nfriends are laid, and there to set out meat and drink and clothing and\nother things suited to their erstwhile needs and pursuits, could all\nalong have believed that these gifts were vanity, that the food could\nnot strengthen, the wine could not cheer, the clothing could not warm\nthe departed, but that they lay henceforth cold, tasteless, insentient.\nFor if men had so believed, then a custom, not merely lacking the\nalliance of religious belief, but standing in perpetual antagonism to\nit, could not have held its ground, as this custom has done, century\nafter century with vigour unabated. Rather the continuity of the custom\nmight alone prove, even if other considerations had not guided us to\nthe same conclusion, that the departed were held to possess a nature\nno less corporeal, an existence no less material, than that which\nbelonged both to living men and to the gods whom they hoped to resemble\neven more closely hereafter. The same food as men ate was offered to\nthe gods in sacrifice that they too might eat; why bring it to the\ndead, if they had no power to eat? The wine that men drank was poured\nout for the gods in libation, that they too might drink; why waste it\nupon the soil of the grave, if the dead had no power to drink? A robe\nsuch as Athenian women wore was presented to Athene year by year, that\nshe might wear it; why furnish the dead with gifts of raiment, if it\nmust rot unworn? It is impossible to evade the conclusion that the same\nbodily needs and propensities were ascribed by the Greek folk to the\ndeparted as to living men and to deathless gods.\n\nThus then the people of Greece are shown to have pursued constantly two\naims in their treatment of the dead--to ensure the dissolution of the\nbody, and also to provide the body with the necessaries of existence.\nUnless therefore anyone is prepared to suppose that the Greek people\nhave been constantly actuated by two conflicting motives, the desire to\nannihilate and the desire to keep alive, dissolution cannot have meant\nto them annihilation, but rather a modification of the conditions of\nbodily existence; and that modification can only have meant that the\nexistence of the body in this world indeed ended--for the substance\nlaid in the grave vanished--but continued in another world. But if\nbodily existence continued in that other world whither the soul too\nsped, the body and the soul having reached the same place would surely\nnot be imagined to remain separate, but to be re-united. The eagerness\nfor dissolution meant therefore eagerness for the re-union of body and\nsoul.\n\nAnd there is a good means of testing the popular belief even as\nregards this last step. If the body and soul were really believed to\nbe re-united as soon as dissolution was complete, the dead man in the\nlower world would assuredly be as well able to take care of himself as\nhe had been while dwelling in this world, and the obligation of his\nrelatives to provide him with food would cease, although of course\nthey might, voluntarily and without any compulsion of duty, continue\ntheir gifts[1355]. But it would be at any rate permissible, on this\ntheory, to discontinue all care for the dead when once his body was no\nlonger helpless but restored to its activity by re-union with the soul;\nand it is to be expected that the Greek people should sometimes avail\nthemselves of the exemption from the task of feeding and otherwise\ntending the dead. Such action would be the natural outcome of the\nbelief that dissolution meant the re-union of body and soul; and if I\ncan show that such action has been or is commonly taken, the existence\nof the belief will have borne the best test, the demonstration of a\ncustom arising from it.\n\nThe period required for dissolution, according to common belief, is\neither forty days or three years--the former being the really popular\nperiod, while the latter was fixed indeed by the Church but in many\ndistricts has been popularly accepted. Hence, if my views are correct,\nthe meals provided for the dead and all other marks of care ought\nto cease sometimes at the fortieth day and sometimes at the third\nanniversary.\n\nAs regards the present time, I do not know of any place, though it\nwould not surprise me to hear of one, in which the so-called memorial\nfeasts are discontinued after the fortieth day; but I have already\ncited evidence to show that the memorial-feasts of later date are\ndefinitely ecclesiastical in origin, and even retain to this day in\none district a distinctly ecclesiastical tone[1356]. Therefore before\na necessitous priesthood had succeeded in extending the custom, the\nministration to the bodily wants of the dead clearly did cease when\ndissolution was popularly supposed to be complete. This conclusion\nis fortified by a most striking piece of evidence. The priests\u2019\ninterest has naturally been limited to the food and wine supplied to\nthe dead; for a supply of water they have not been dependent upon the\nperquisites of their office. Hence it comes that the water, which, as\nI noted above, is often supplied to the dead day by day, without any\naccompanying provision of food, ceases to be brought after the fortieth\nday. The wants of the dead man have been assiduously satisfied until,\nin popular reckoning, his dissolution is complete, and ecclesiastical\ninfluence has had no motive for encouraging a longer continuance of the\ncustom so far as water is concerned. The fortieth day then was without\ndoubt the old popular limit of the time during which the supply of all\nkinds of provision was obligatory.\n\nNowadays, on the contrary, the presents of food to the dead are\ngenerally continued up to the third anniversary, when exhumation\ntakes place. Then, if the evidence of men\u2019s eyes assures them that\ndissolution has been duly effected--that the body is gone and only\nthe white bones remain--there is no further thought or provision for\nthe dead; but in the rare cases in which the disintegration of the\ncorpse is not yet complete, the relatives are not freed from their\nobligations. I witnessed a remarkable case of this kind at Leon\u00eddi\non the east coast of Laconia. Two graves had just been opened when I\narrived, and the utmost anxiety prevailed because in both cases there\nwas only partial decomposition--in one case so little that the general\noutline of the features could be made out--and it was feared that one\nor both of the dead persons had become _vrykolakes_. The remains,\nwhen I saw them, had been removed to the chapel attached to the\nburial-ground. Meanwhile the question was debated as to what should be\ndone with them. Dissolution must be effected both in the interests of\nthe dead themselves and in those of the whole community. Extraordinary\nmeasures were required. The best measure--I am reporting what I\nactually heard--the best measure next to prayer (which had been tried\nwithout effect) was to burn the remains, and the bolder spirits of the\nvillage counselled this plan; but this would have been a breach of law\nand order, and the authorities of the place would have none of it. The\npriest proposed re-interment; but here the relatives objected. They had\nhad trouble enough and expense enough; they had kept \u2018the unsleeping\nlamp\u2019 burning at the grave, and had provided all the memorial feasts;\nthey would not consent to re-inter the body and to be at the same\ncharge for an indefinite time, without knowing when the corpse might be\nproperly \u2018loosed\u2019 and their tendance of it over. They would find some\nway of dissolving it, and that speedily.\n\nAnd so indeed they did; and I, for a short time, was a spectator of\nthe scene. On the floor of the chapel there were two large baskets\ncontaining the remains; there were men seated beside them busy with\nknives; and there were women kneeling at wash-tubs and scouring the\nbones that were handed to them with soap and soda. The work continued\nfor two days. At the end of that time the bones were shown white and\nclean. All else had disappeared--had probably been burnt in secret, but\nthe secret was kept close. It was therefore claimed and allowed that\ndissolution was complete.\n\nThe attitude adopted by the relatives on this occasion makes it\nperfectly clear that all the care expended on the dead is obligatory\nup to the time of dissolution, but no longer. So long as the fleshly\nsubstance remains in this world, provision of food must be made for it;\nwhen it has disappeared and only the bones are left, the departed cease\nto be dependent upon their surviving relatives, and no further anxiety\nis felt for their welfare.\n\nNor must it be supposed that the cleaning and whitening of the bones\nin the case which I have described had anything to do with a desire\nto preserve the bones as relics of the dead. Such a custom is indeed\nwell known in Greek monasteries; at Megasp\u00e9laeon, for instance, the\nwealthiest and most famous monastery of Greece proper, there is an\nossuary in which the monks take great pride. On one side, ranged\nagainst the wall, stands a large triangular heap of skulls; the\nopposite wall is decorated with cleverly-designed geometrical figures\ncarried out in other bones; while in a corner perhaps may be seen a\nbasket or two full of material awaiting the decorator\u2019s convenience.\nMy guide, I remember, pointed out to me the skulls of many of the\ndistinguished monks of past time, and indicated with great satisfaction\nthe spot which he had bespoken for his own. But the usage of monastic\nbodies has in truth little bearing upon the popular semi-pagan beliefs\nand customs; the practice of storing up the bones of members of a\nreligious order in an ossuary is more closely akin to the old custom\nof preserving relics of saints and martyrs; it is to the usage of the\ncommon-folk in such matters that we must look. And what do they do\nwith the white or whitened bones? They throw them away and expend no\nmore care upon them. At Leon\u00eddi itself, close beside the fenced-in\nburial-ground, but unprotected from the intrusion of man or beast,\nthere is a square open pit into which the bones of many generations\nhave been tipped like rubbish, lying at random in confusion as they\nfell. Nor is this a solitary case. In far-away Sciathos I recall\nthe same scene as at Leon\u00eddi--a chapel set on a wooded hill, the\nchurchyard about it neatly kept and the graves of the recently buried\nwell-tended, but just beyond its precincts a rough hole in the ground\nopen to sun and rain, and \u2018some two fathoms of bones,\u2019 as a peasant\nsaid jestingly, lying in neglect and disarray. These pits, which are\nto be seen throughout Greece, are indeed dignified by the Church with\nthe name of cemeteries (\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1[1357]); but they command no respect\non the part of the peasant. He will cross himself as he passes chapel\nor enters churchyard, but he will jest over the depository of outcast\nbones. In a word, when it is seen that every trace of the dead body\nsave only the white bones has disappeared, the common-folk exchange\ntheir extraordinary devotion to the duties of tending the dead for a\ntotal unconcern. And the reason for this can only be that the dead\nbody no longer lies helpless and dependent for its existence upon the\nsustenance which they from time to time provide, but has vanished to\na land where, re-united with the soul, it regains its activity and\nindependence.\n\nSuch, I believe, is the trend of religious thought which, almost\ninsensibly, has guided the actions of the Greek people from the\nPelasgian age until now in their treatment of the dead; the benefit\nwhich they have sought to confer upon the dead by the dissolution of\ntheir bodies has been the re-union of body with soul and the resumption\nof that active bodily life which death had for a time suspended.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1292] Plato, _Phaedo_ 115 C ff.\n\n[1293] Hom. _Il._ XXIII. 65 ff.\n\n[1294] Hom. _Il._ XXIII. 72.\n\n[1295] Cf. the constant contrast of \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 and \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae, as in _Iliad_ I.\n3-4, and twice in the passage before us, _Il._ XXIII. 65 f. and 106 f.\n\n[1296] Hom. _Od._ XI. 489 ff.\n\n[1297] Hom. _Il._ XVI. 857.\n\n[1298] The few inconsistencies in the _Odyssey_, such as the physical\npunishment of Tityos, Tantalos, and Sisyphos (_Od._ XI. 576 ff.), or\nagain the mention of the \u2018asphodel mead\u2019 (_Od._ XI. 539, XXIV. 13),\nare unimportant. They are, I think, adventitious Pelasgian elements in\nthe Homeric scheme of the future life, and it may be noted that the\n_Iliad_ is singularly free from them, while in _Odyssey_, Bk XI., where\nthey chiefly occur, they are obviously incongruous with the general\nconception of the lower world.\n\n[1299] See above, p. 99.\n\n[1300] Pindar, Fr. 129 (95).\n\n[1301] See above, p. 345.\n\n[1302] \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7, p. 407 ff.\n\n[1303] \u1f18\u03ba\u03b8. \u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03be. \u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 11 (25); Migne, _Patrolog._ (_ser.\nGraec._) Vol. XCIV. p. 916.\n\n[1304] Plutarch, _de occult. viv._ cap. 7, cited by Bergk in _Lyrici\nGraeci_, _ad loc._\n\n[1305] Pind. _Ol._ II. 134.\n\n[1306] Pind. _Ol._ I. 1.\n\n[1307] \u03bd\u1f70 \u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03af\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74 \u03bb\u03b1\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n[1308] Cf. Theodore Bent, _The Cyclades_, p. 220.\n\n[1309] This is of course only one out of several passages in which\nPindar speaks of the future life, and he does not adhere to any one\ndoctrine; elsewhere, as in _Ol._ II., his views are coloured largely\nby Pythagorean or Orphic eschatology, although there is a close\nresemblance between the isles of the blest there described (126-135)\nand the abode depicted in this fragment.\n\n[1310] Hom. _Il._ IX. 632 ff.\n\n[1311] Herod. II. 51.\n\n[1312] Herod. II. 171.\n\n[1313] Aristoph. _Frogs_, 884.\n\n[1314] _Op. cit._ 1032 ff.\n\n[1315] A conspicuous example is Delphi, where the Achaean god Apollo\nhad usurped the place of some oracular deity of the Pelasgians, cf.\nPlutarch, _de defect. orac._ cap. 15 p. 418. See Miss Harrison,\n_Proleg. to the Study of Greek Religion_, pp. 113 f.\n\n[1316] _Il._ XXIII. 104.\n\n[1317] _Il._ XXIII. 101.\n\n[1318] Plato, _Phaedo_, cap. 29 (p. 80 D).\n\n[1319] Cf. \u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039d. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 341.\n\n[1320] Rohde (_Psyche_ I. cap. 1) contends that the discovery of\nan altar, of the type used in the worship of Chthonian deities,\nsuperimposed upon one Mycenaean grave, proves both that offerings to\nthe dead were continued after the interment and also that the offerings\nwere of a propitiatory character. On this slight foundation he rears\nthe edifice of his theory that a vigorous soul-cult flourished in\nMycenaean and earlier ages. Accordingly he views all gifts to the dead,\nincluding those made at the time of the funeral, as offerings intended\nto propitiate departed souls, although he is forced to admit that from\nthe Homeric age onwards there is no evidence that fear of the dead was\na feature of Greek religion; the offerings made, on his view, to the\nsoul of Patroclus were merely, he holds, a \u2018survival,\u2019 a custom no\nlonger possessed of any meaning. The accident of an altar belonging\nto some Chthonian deity having been found above the grave of some man\nseems to me insufficient basis for any theory.\n\n[1321] The blood which in the _Odyssey_ is used to attract the souls of\nthe dead and is given to Teiresias to drink forms, I imagine, part of a\nmagic rite, which has no connexion with the present point.\n\n[1322] I omit the twelve Trojan prisoners; the slaughter of these is\nclearly stated to have been an act of revenge. See _Il._ XXIII. 22 f.\n\n[1323] _Il._ XXIII. 50.\n\n[1324] \u03a6\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, in \u1f18\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb. 1889, p. 183. Possibly also at\nAthens, cf. Br\u00fcckner and Pernice, in _Athen. Mittheil._ 1893, pp. 89-90.\n\n[1325] I am not overlooking the fact that \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 were also made\nto Chthonian deities (cf. Pausan. VIII. 34. 3), but there was a\ndistinction in character even between these \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 and those made\nto the dead. Wine, for example, was excluded from the former and\nincluded in the latter. Possibly in origin \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd was the Pelasgian\nrite, \u03b8\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd the Achaean.\n\n[1326] _Lysist._ 611.\n\n[1327] _Menecl._ 46 and _Ciron_ 55 (p. 73. 26).\n\n[1328] _Ctesiphon_, 226 (p. 86. 5).\n\n[1329] Pollux VIII. 146; Harpocrat. s.v. \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03c2.\n\n[1330] Herod. IV. 26.\n\n[1331] Artem. _Oneirocr._ IV. 83.\n\n[1332] _loc. cit._\n\n[1333] Bingham, _Antiq. of Christian Church_, Bk 23, cap. 3.\n\n[1334] See Chrysostom, _Homily_ 47 in 1 Cor., p. 565.\n\n[1335] Anastasius, _Quaestio_ XXII., in Migne, _Patrolog. Graeco-Lat._\nVol. LXXXIX. 288.\n\n[1336] Known also as \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b6\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd (\u2018the warming\u2019) according to Bybilakis,\n_Neugriech. Leben_, p. 67.\n\n[1337] According to Bybilakis, _loc. cit._, in the dead man\u2019s house.\nThis, naturally, would be the usual case.\n\n[1338] p. 321. 25.\n\n[1339] Hence it is probable that the ancient \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd also was\nconducted on the principle of the \u1f14\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[1340] Hom. _Il._ XXIII. 170. Cf. also the use of \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03af\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, Hom.\n_Od._ XI. 27, and Eur. _Or._ 115. Cf. also Aesch. _Pers._ 614.\n\n[1341] Ar. _Lys._ 599 ff.\n\n[1342] In some villages of Chios, the diminutive \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03bf\u03c0\u1fc6\u03c4\u03c4\u03b9 or a word\n\u03c8\u03cd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b7 is used (\u039a\u03c9\u03bd\u03c3\u03c4. \u039a\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03a7\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u1f08\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b1, p. 337). The commoner\nform \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03cc\u03c0\u03b7\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1 is that of Crete (cf. Bybilakis, _op. cit._ p. 69),\nKasos, and other Asiatic islands (\u03a0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c2,\np. 17) etc.\n\n[1343] See above, pp. 486-7.\n\n[1344] Called respectively \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1, \u1f10\u03bd\u03bd\u03b9\u032f\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1, and \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n[1345] Sonnini de Magnoncourt, _Voyage en Gr\u00e8ce et en Turquie_, Vol.\nII. p. 153.\n\n[1346] Eur. _Or._ 109.\n\n[1347] Cf. Suidas s.v. \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1, \u03c3\u1fd6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f11\u03c8\u03b7\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2. The spelling with \u03bb\u03bb is\npreferable.\n\n[1348] The classical meaning of \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1 was \u2018small coins.\u2019 The\nscholiast on Aristoph. _Plut._ 768 mentions \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1 among the\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03cd\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 thrown over a new slave on his introduction to the\nhousehold. These consisted mainly of sweetmeats, etc. (cf. _op. cit._\n798) whence apparently Hesychius (s.v. \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1) explains that word by\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1. More probably small coins were thrown along with various\nsweetmeats; for the kindred custom of throwing \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03cd\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 over a bride\non her entry into her new home has continued down to the present day,\nand these certainly now comprise small change as well as sticky edibles.\n\n[1349] Gregorovius, _Wanderings in Corsica, etc._ (tr. Muir), II. p. 46.\n\n[1350] \u03a0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c2, p. 17. \u1f38. \u03a3. \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f21\n\u03a3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03cc\u03c2, p. 92.\n\n[1351] Cf. Bybilakis, _Neugriechisches Leben_, p. 67.\n\n[1352] Plutarch, _Vita Solon._ cap. 21.\n\n[1353] Thucyd. III. 58. 4.\n\n[1354] See above, p. 345.\n\n[1355] This occurred in old time in the case of heroes, whose offerings\nare called \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 and \u03c7\u03bf\u03b1\u03af, like those of other dead men; but since\nthe state and not the individual provided for them, the gifts were made\nnot for a time only, but regularly year after year.\n\n[1356] See above, pp. 487 f.\n\n[1357] As opposed, in correct speech, to \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, the place of\npreliminary interment. But the two terms are often confused.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE UNION OF GODS AND MEN.\n\n\nThe similitude of death with sleep is an idea of ancient date and of\nwide distribution, which for many of mankind, whatever be the creed\nprofessed, has mitigated the fears or lightened the uncertainties which\nattach to the cessation of this life. Adopted by the founder of the\nChristian religion as an illustration of the doctrine that men \u2018shall\nrise again with their bodies,\u2019 the thought has become a part of the\nheritage of Christendom, and in our own language the word \u2018cemetery\u2019\nbears testimony to it. But the idea had been evolved by pagan thought\nlong centuries before the dawn of Christianity, and probably enough by\nthe thinkers and poets of many nations independently one of another. In\nthe oldest literature of Greece we meet with the thought already fully\ndeveloped and evidently familiar. \u2018To sleep an iron slumber[1358]\u2019 is\nalready in Homeric language a simple and natural synonym for \u2018to die\u2019;\nand so too we are told that in the far off golden age men \u2018died as it\nwere overborne by sleep[1359].\u2019 And in yet plainer terms, where Death\nand Sleep are personified, they are spoken of as twin brethren[1360],\nthe children of Night[1361]. This conception seems too to have been a\nfavourite in art[1362], and provided one of the scenes on the renowned\nchest of Cypselus[1363].\n\nWhen we turn to the folk-songs of the present day, we cannot of course\nhope to find the imagery of Death and Sleep pourtrayed as infants\nsleeping in the lap of Night, nor indeed, so far as I know, are they\neven described as brothers; for the personification of them by the\nmodern peasants is rare. But the old resemblance between them is still\nrecognised, and, quite apart from Christian influence, the thought\nfinds natural expression in those largely pagan improvisations of\nmourning in which the name of Charon is to be heard more frequently\nthan the name of God. It will suffice to quote but one stanza from one\nof the most simple and touching of these funeral-songs:\n\n    \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u2019 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7,\n    \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f44\u03c8\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b5,\n    \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f55\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf \u03b2\u03b1\u03b8\u03cd[1364].\n\n    Not dead lies the maiden,\n    Doubt not, but behold her,\n    \u2019Tis sleep doth enfold her\n    In slumber profound.\n\nNow this idea, born in some long-forgotten pagan age, fostered by Homer\nand Hesiod and no less tenderly by the Christian Church, familiar\nto every Greek mind for full three thousand years, harmonizes well\nwith the belief that body as well as soul survives death. Beyond\nthe superficial resemblance in the inert figures of the dead man\nlaid out for burial and of one who sleeps soundly, there was another\nand profounder resemblance in the manner of their waking to fresh\nactivity, the one in this world, the other in the under-world. Homer,\nwith his belief that the soul alone, survives, notes only the first\nresemblance. The twofold property of laying men to sleep and of raising\nthem therefrom resided fitly in the wand of Hermes the escorter of the\ndead; but though he escorted men\u2019s souls to the house of Hades and\nmight at will summon their souls thence[1365], there is no suggestion\nof a bodily awakening from the sleep of death. But Virgil, even in his\nclose imitation of Homer, adds to the Homeric description of Hermes\u2019\nwand one phrase of his own. \u2018Therewith doth he summon forth from Orcus\nthe pale spirits of the dead, and others doth he send down to gloomy\nTartarus; therewith he giveth sleep and taketh it away\u2019--so far does\nVirgil follow Homer, but he adds--\u2018and unsealeth men\u2019s eyes from\ndeath[1366].\u2019 The Homeric picture is enriched by a new thought, foreign\nto the Achaean religion but proper to that other belief which inspired\nPindar\u2019s description of the future life, the thought that after death\nand dissolution, men\u2019s eyes should open upon a brighter world and a\nlife of renewed bodily activity.\n\nSuch was the thought with which the pagans of ancient Greece had\ncomforted themselves long before Christianity availed itself of the\nsame imagery. But the Hellenic religion went yet further, and found in\nthis thought not only peace and contentment but vivid joy. The sleep\nof death was the means whereby men should attain to closer communion\nwith their gods. The grave was a bed, but a bed of delight rather than\nof rest, a bridal bed. They should not sleep alone, but in the very\nembrace of the gods to whom in this life they had striven to draw nigh.\nThe darkness of the tomb was but the wedding-night. Full union in the\nother world should be the consummation of partial communion in this.\nThe marriage of men with their gods was the ideal to which Greek piety\ndared aspire.\n\nSuch an ideal may well seem bold even to the verge of impious\npresumption. But Greek religion, even in its highest developments,\nwas the natural and spontaneous expression of the beliefs and hopes\nof a whole people; it differed from all the great religions of the\nmodern world in having no founder. Great teachers no doubt arose, as\nOrpheus or Pythagoras, who influenced the course of religious thought;\nbut they were not the founders of new religions. The old self-grown\nfaiths of the people were the stocks upon which they grafted, as it\nwould seem, even their new doctrines; they founded schools indeed,\nbut schools which did not sever themselves from the received religion\nand become sects. The Orphic mysteries differed so little from the\nold Pelasgian mysteries of Eleusis that Orpheus was sometimes even\nreputed to be their founder too; yet, as we shall see, the Eleusinian\nrites were merely one presentment of a conception common to the whole\nGreek people. If then this ideal of marriage between men and gods\nin the future life was no invented or imported doctrine, but simply\nthe highest development of purely popular aspirations towards close\ncommunion with the gods, its audacity is less surprising. From time\nimmemorial down to this day[1367] Greece has had its popular stories of\nnuptial union even in this life between gods and mortal women, between\ngoddesses and mortal men; and educated Greeks, who could not credit\nsuch occurrences in their own times, might well believe that a joy,\nwhich had been granted to the brave men and fair women of a former and\nbetter age even during their life-time upon earth, was still reserved\nfor the righteous in the world to come. Pausanias tells us with a\nwonderful simplicity that in his time owing to the increase of iniquity\nin all the world no one was changed from a man into a god, and that the\nwrath of the gods against the unrighteous was laid up against the time\nwhen they should quit this earth[1368]. If then there was believed to\nbe a postponement of punishment for those who offended the gods, there\nmight well be a reservation of blessedness for those who pleased them.\nIt would have imposed no strain upon the faith of such as Pausanias to\nlook forward to the enjoyment in a future life of the same bliss as\nhad been enjoyed in old time upon earth by men \u2018who by reason of their\nuprightness and piety sat at the same hospitable board as gods, and\nwhom the gods openly visited with honour for their goodness even as\nthey visited the wicked with their displeasure[1369],\u2019 men who, as many\nan old legend told, had shared not the board only but even the bed of\ndeities.\n\nThis curious Greek conception of death as a form of marriage was\nfirst borne in upon me by the funeral-dirges of the modern peasants.\nExamples may be found in any collection of Greek folk-songs. The actual\nexpression of the thought varies considerably, but it would probably be\nhard to find in Greece any professional mourner in whose elaborations\nthe idea did not occupy an important place. It is utilised with\nequal frequency in regard to persons of either sex, whether married\nor unmarried at the time of death. The two following specimens from\nPassow\u2019s collection are fairly representative.\n\n    \u2018Ah me! ah me! the hours of youth and days all past and over,\n    Haply shall they return again, those hours of youth regretted?\u2019\n    \u2018Nay when the crow dons plumage white, when crow to dove is chang\u00e8d,\n    Then only shall they come again, those hours of youth lamented.\u2019\n    \u2018Oh fare ye well, high mountain-tops and fir-trees rich in shadow,\n    For I must go to marry me, to take a wife unto me;\n    The black earth for my wife I take, the tombstone as her mother\n    And yonder little pebbles all her brethren and her sisters[1370].\u2019\n\nHere evidently we have the funeral-dirge of an old man, and, as\nis usual in these poems, a large part of the words are put into\nhis mouth. In this fragment the first two lines are the dead man\u2019s\ncomplaint, the next two are an answer returned to him, and then again\nhe takes up his parable. The second example which I will give is from\na lamentation for a young girl. The first few lines are addressed by\nthe father and mother to their dead child, and with a quaint directness\ncontrast the gloom of the lower world with the simple joys of a\npeasant\u2019s life here above; while the last three lines are an answer put\ninto the dead girl\u2019s mouth.\n\n    \u2018Dear child, there where thou purposest to hie thee down, in Hades,\n    There, sure, no cock doth ever crow, nor hen is heard a-clucking,\n    There is no spring of water found, nor grass in meadows growing.\n    Art hungered? nought thou tastest there; athirst? there nought thou drinkest;\n    Would\u2019st lay thee down and take thy rest? of sleep no fill thou takest.\n    Then stay, dear child, in thine own house, stay then with thine own kindred.\u2019\n    \u2018Nay, I may not, dear father mine and mother deep-beloved,\n    Yesterday was my marriage-day, late yestere\u2019en my wedding,\n    Hades I for my husband have, the tomb for my new mother[1371].\u2019\n\nIn this dirge, it may be noticed, there is no complaint on the part of\nthe dead girl; the lamentation and the gloomy description of Hades are\nassigned to her parents. And indeed her reply is, I think, intended\nto be by way of consolation. It is true that she does not deny their\ncheerless prognostications nor attempt to paint a brighter picture of\nthe nether world, but she represents her death as no greater breaking\nof old ties than is marriage; at an actual marriage indeed the same\nkind of distressful presages are chanted by the girl\u2019s companions, and\neven the bride herself is bound by propriety to exhibit a sullen and\nregretful demeanour. Very true of Greek marriages and of Greek funerals\nis the proverb, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f74 \u03bb\u03cd\u03c0\u03b7 \u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f74 \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03ba\u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1[1372], \u2018Mourning hath its mirth and joy its tears.\u2019 But the\nconsolatory tone is far more pronounced in some other passages from\nthe same collection. A good example is found in the message which a\n_Klepht_--one of those patriot-outlaws who struggled against Turkish\ndomination--is made to send, as he lies dying, to his mother:\n\n    \u2018Go, tell ye now my mother dear, my mother sore-afflicted,\n    Ne\u2019er to await me home again, ne\u2019er to abide my coming;\n    Yet tell her not that I am slain, tell her not I am fallen;\n    Nay, tell her then that I am wed--wed in these wilds so weary.\n    The black earth for my wife I took, the hard rock my bride\u2019s mother,\n    And all the little pebbles here I took for my new kindred[1373].\u2019\n\nThe feeling displayed in these lines (which are credited by Passow\nto the town of Livadia (\u039b\u03b5\u03b2\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1) in Boeotia) finds closely similar\nexpression in a recently-published Macedonian folk-song. The latter\nhowever is not a mere copy of the former. Its metre is different,\nand further it is a folk-song of the romantic order, whereas the\nlines which I have quoted belong to an historical ballad. A youth is\nlowered by his brothers, so runs the story, into a well to get water\nfor them, but the well proves to be haunted by a snake-like monster\n(\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc[1374]) from whom they try in vain to rescue him. In this\nplight he cries to them:\n\n        \u2018Oh leave me, brothers, leave me, go ye on your way,\n        And say not to my mother dear that I am dead,\n        But tell her, brothers, tell her how that I am wed;\n    The black earth for my wife I took, the tombstone my bride\u2019s mother,\n    And all these little blades of grass her brethren and her sisters[1375].\u2019\n\nEven more remarkable in its total absence of grief is a fragment\ngiven by Passow under the title of \u2018the Wedding in Hades.\u2019 The\nlamentation--for technically at least the poem falls into the class\nof \u2018dirges\u2019--is sung by a mother for her son, and she speaks of her\nown mother, who is already dead and in the nether world, as making\npreparation for the boy\u2019s wedding in Hades.\n\n    \u2018My mother maketh glad to-day, she maketh my son\u2019s wedding,\n    She goeth for water to the springs, for snow unto the mountains,\n    To fruit-wives in their garden-plots for apples and for quinces.\n    \u201cYe springs,\u201d she saith, \u201cgive water cool, and give me snow, ye mountains,\n    Ye fruit-wives in your garden-plots, give apples and give quinces.\n    For unto me a dear one comes down from the world above us;\n    Not from a strange land cometh he, nor from among strange people,\n    He is the child of mine own child, right dear and deep-beloved.\u201d[1376]\u2019\n\nFrom these passages and from many others conceived in the same spirit\nit will readily be seen that the thought of death as a kind of\nmarriage, however mystical it may seem to us, is familiar to the modern\nGreek peasants. Nor has that thought become crystallised into a set\nform of words to be repeated without heed or understanding of their\nmeaning. The very variety of treatment given to the idea proves that\nwe are not dealing with a mere traditional expression or unmeaning\ncommonplace, but with a vital belief still capable of stirring the\nballad-maker\u2019s imagination. Further it is this thought which almost\nalone strikes a note of cheerfulness and of hope in the popular dirges.\nThe usual picture of the lower world is nothing but gloom and despair.\nIt is a place of darkness on which the sun never shines, a place of ice\nand snow, and full of cob-webs. There are no churches there with bright\ngolden icons; no quoits for the young men to throw; no looms for the\nwomen to ply. Hunger is not appeased, thirst not quenched, and sleep\nis denied. All is mourning and regret for the warm stirring life of\nthe upper world, and anxious fears for wife or children left behind.\nHappy those who are allowed even to taste of the river of death, and to\nforget their homes and orphaned little ones. Thus with strange medley\nof ancient and modern is the dirge-singer wont to describe that lower\nworld to which all the dead without distinction go. Yet even into these\ndirges, which--in order to excite the mourners to wilder displays of\ngrief--purposely emphasize the gloomiest aspects of death, there is\nallowed to enter the one cheering thought that the departed for whom\nlamentation is made is not dead nor yet fallen on eternal sleep, but\nwedded in a new world; and it is worthy of notice that it is with this\nthought that many of the dirges end, as if this one consolation and\nhope were designed to assuage the pangs of sorrow which the first part\nof the dirge had excited.\n\nThus a brief study of the modern Greek dirges reveals to us the curious\nfact that a mystic conception of death is widely prevalent among the\nsimple-minded peasants of Greece, and that, with all their _na\u00efvet\u00e9_\nin pourtraying the horrors of the lower world, it is from a recondite\ndoctrine that they draw consolation. How came they to be the stewards\nof a doctrine so strange, so remote from the primitive simplicity of\ntheir ordinary life?\n\nOnce more we must look back to a pre-Christian antiquity, and seek\nagain in Greek Tragedy the evidence of popular belief. Just as\nAeschylus above all others has preserved to us the awful doctrine of\nfuture retribution for the deadly sin of blood-guilt, so from Sophocles\nwe may learn the more comfortable doctrine that death, while it\ninvolves a parting from friends in this upper world, is also the means\nof drawing nearer, in an union as it were of wedlock, to the denizens\nof the lower world. The _locus classicus_ for this conception is the\n_Antigone_. Throughout the latter part of that play, when once the\ndoom of Antigone has been pronounced, the thought of her death as a\nwedding, and of the rock-hewn tomb where she is to be immured as a\nbridal-chamber, finds repeated and emphatic expression.\n\nOf course it may be said that Antigone was the promised bride of\nHaemon, and that the poet in speaking of her tomb as a bridal-chamber\nwas seeking to accentuate the pathetic contrast between her hopes\nand her destiny. That is true; but perhaps it is not the whole\ntruth; perhaps Sophocles rather utilised the evident pathos of the\nsituation for the purpose of covert allusion to doctrines which were\nin themselves unspeakable, such as Herodotus would have passed over\nwith the words \u03b5\u1f54\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03c3\u03b8\u03c9. For we must not forget that the majority\nof an Athenian audience, initiated as they naturally would be in the\nEleusinian mysteries, were familiar with religious teachings of which\nnone might make explicit mention in the pages of literature open to the\nprofane, but at which a poet might well hint in words which beneath\ntheir superficial meaning hid a truth intelligible to such as had ears\nto hear. Aeschylus indeed had once ventured too far in his allusions\nto the mysteries[1377]; but there is no improbability, or rather there\nis on that account an increased probability, in the supposition that a\ndiscreet and veiled allusion to unspeakable doctrines was permitted to\nthe Tragic poet. Let us turn to the actual passages of the _Antigone_.\n\nThe first suggestion of the thought comes ironically enough, though\nit is but a faint suggestion, from the lips of Creon, who to Ismene\u2019s\nexclamation, \u201cWilt thou indeed bereave thine own son of her?\u201d retorts\n\u201c\u2019Tis Hades\u2019 part to arrest this wedding[1378].\u201d The thought is\ntaken up later by the Chorus, who, after their hymn in honour of\nunconquerable Love, revert to words of pity for the woman there before\nthem, and tell how they can no longer check the founts of tears, when\nthey behold Antigone drawing near to \u2018the bed-chamber where all must\nsleep\u2019 (\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd)[1379]. Here the expression of the idea\nis becoming plainer, and it is no accident that the word \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, so\ncommonly used of the bride-chamber, is here selected. But yet clearer\nwords are to follow; for Antigone herself, in response to these words\nof compassion from the Chorus, interprets more boldly that at which\nthey hint. \u2018Me doth Hades, with whom all must sleep, bear off yet\nalive to Acheron\u2019s shore, me that have had no part in wedlock, whose\nname hath never rung forth in bridal hymn, but \u2019tis Acheron I shall\nwed[1380].\u2019\n\nNor does this clear pronouncement stand alone; thrice more, as the play\nadvances, the same thought is echoed in unmistakeable tones. First\ncomes the opening of that half impassioned, half sophistic, speech\nof Antigone, from which some critics would delete her argumentative\nestimate of a brother\u2019s claims as against those of a husband; but\nthe removal of those lines would still leave intact that outburst,\n\u2018Oh tomb, oh bride-chamber, oh cavernous abode of everlasting\ndurance[1381].\u2019 And then again in the speech of the messenger, who\nbears tidings of the fate of both Antigone and her lover, the same\nthought is pressed upon us with double insistence. First he tells how,\nhaving given Polynices his full rites of burial, they turned to go next\n\u2018unto the vaulted chamber where on couch of rock the maiden should be\nwed with Hades\u2019 (\u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b9\u03b8\u03cc\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2 \u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f0d\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd), and\nfrom afar is heard the voice of loud lament beside \u2018the bridal chamber\nunhallowed by funeral rites\u2019 (\u1f00\u03ba\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b1[1382]). And\nlater in the same narrative, when we have heard how that voice of loud\nlament was stilled, Haemon is pictured as lying dead in Antigone\u2019s dead\nembrace, having won his bridal\u2019s fulfilment only in Hades\u2019 house (\u03c4\u1f70\n\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7 \u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u1f7c\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03b3\u2019 \u1f0d\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2)[1383].\n\nThe reiteration of a single thought through all this series of passages\nis most remarkable. What does it mean? Did Sophocles intend merely to\nenhance the tragedy of Antigone\u2019s doom by constant comparison of that\nwhich might have been with that which was? Or did each phrase in which\nthe thoughts of marriage and of death were blended contain a further\nand a subtler appeal to his hearers\u2019 emotions? Did each phrase strike\nalso a note which set vibrating in his listeners\u2019 hearts responsive\nchords of mystic hope?\n\nFor my part, as I draw near the end of these studies in Greek\nreligion, I find it more and more difficult to set down as mere casual\ncoincidences the close resemblances between Greece in the past and\nGreece in the present. I have found a belief in the supernatural beings\nof Ancient Greece still swaying the minds of the modern peasants; I\nhave seen the customs of antiquity repeated alike in the small acts\nof every-day life and in the ceremonies of its greater events; I have\nheard the same thoughts expressed in almost the same turns of phrase\nas in ancient literature; I have traced the popular conceptions of\nthe present day concerning the relations of body and soul, and their\nexistence after death, back to native pre-Christian sources. Have I\nthen not a right, am I not bound, to abjure coincidence and to claim\nfor the past and the present real identity? When I find in Sophocles\nthe same thought, almost the same words, which may be gathered to-day\nfrom the lips of any unlettered lament-maker the whole Greek world\nover, I am compelled by my conviction of the continuity of all things\nGreek to believe that Sophocles adapted to his own use a thought which\nin his time even as now was uttered in many a funeral-dirge, and that\nwhile the phrases of the _Antigone_ gained in his hands a new lustre\nfrom the pathos of their setting, they themselves were not new nor the\ninvention of Sophocles\u2019 genius, but an old heritage of the Greek race.\nMaybe it was that same thought which gave birth to the strange and but\npartially known legend of the death of Hymenaeus himself in the first\nmoment of his wedded delight[1384]; maybe it was in the same spirit\nthat Prometheus foretold how Zeus himself should make such a marriage\nas should cast him down from his throne of tyranny and he be no more\nseen, in fulfilment of the curse uttered by Cronos when he was cast\ndown into the unseen world[1385].\n\nBut, it may be said, the forebodings of Prometheus are generally\ntaken to refer to a future marriage with Thetis, not with death; and\nPindar\u2019s reference to Hymenaeus is vague and fragmentary; and the lines\nof Sophocles\u2019 _Antigone_ have plenty of human pathos, without reading\ninto them any religious doctrine; let your contention at least have\nthe support of sober prose which shows its meaning on the surface. So\nbe it. Artemidorus in his hand-book to the interpretation of dreams\nclaims as a recognised religious principle the correlation of marriage\nand death. To dream of the one is commonly a prognostication of the\nother. But let us hear his own words. \u201cIf an unmarried man dream of\ndeath, it foretells his marriage; for both alike, marriage and death,\nhave universally been held by mankind to be \u2018fulfilments\u2019 (\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7); and\nthey are constantly indicated by one another; for the which reason also\nif sick men dream of marriage, it is a foreboding of death[1386].\u201d And\nagain: \u2018if a sick person dream of sexual intercourse with a god or\ngoddess ..., it is a sign of death; for it is then, when the soul is\nnear leaving the body which it inhabits, that it foresees union and\nintercourse with the gods[1387].\u2019 And yet once more: \u2018since indeed\nmarriage is akin to death and is indicated by dreaming of death, I\nthought it well to touch upon it here. If a sick man dreams of marrying\na maiden, it is a sign of his death; for all the accompaniments of\nmarriage are exactly the same as those of death[1388].\u2019 The gist of\nthese passages is unmistakeable; in clear and straightforward terms\nis enunciated the principle that death and marriage are so intimately\nassociated that to dream of the one may portend the happening of the\nother. Here is the doctrine which we sought to elicit from the poetry\nof Sophocles and from the dirges of modern peasants, stated in plain\nprosaic language. Death is akin to marriage, and, as death approaches,\nmen\u2019s souls foresee a wedded union with gods.\n\nBut Artemidorus does not merely vouch for the existence of this mystic\ndoctrine; he suggests also, to those who will weigh his words, that\nthe doctrine was generally recognised and widely-spread: \u2018for all the\naccompaniments of marriage,\u2019 he says, \u2018are exactly the same as those\nof death.\u2019 What were these accompaniments? Seemingly Artemidorus had\nin mind certain customs which he had enumerated a little earlier,\nnamely \u2018an escort of friends, both men and women, and garlands and\nscents and unguents and an inventory of goods[1389]\u2019 (i.e. either the\nmarriage settlement or the last will and testament). It is then owing\nto this similarity between marriage-customs and funeral-customs that\n\u2018if a sick man dreams of marrying a maiden, it is a sign of death.\u2019 But\npreviously we heard that if a sick person dreamt of commerce with a\ngod or goddess, it was a sign of death, because, as death approached,\nthe soul foresaw union and intercourse with the gods. How far do these\nstatements agree? In both cases the interpretation of the dream is\nthe same--to dream of marriage forebodes death--while the reasons for\nthat interpretation are differently given according as the partner\nin the dreamt-of union is divine or human. But, though differently\ngiven, these reasons are not mutually inconsistent. In the one case the\nreason assigned is an idea--the idea that by death men were admitted\nto wedded union with their gods. In the other case the reason assigned\nis a custom--the custom of giving to the dead rites similar to the\nmarriage-rites. In effect then the two reasons assigned are one and the\nsame in spirit; for the \u2018custom\u2019 is merely the practical expression of\nthe \u2018idea\u2019; it was because men believed that the dead attained to a\nwedded union with their gods, that they made the funeral-rites resemble\nthe rites of marriage. And clearly this custom of assimilating the\naccompaniments of death to those of marriage could never have been\ngeneral, as Artemidorus suggests, unless the belief, on which that\ncustom was founded, had also been generally received and widely spread.\n\nIt will be worth while then to institute an enquiry into the customs\ngenerally observed both in ancient and modern times at weddings and at\nfunerals. Our comparison of ancient literature with modern folk-songs,\nillumined by the statements of Artemidorus, has established the fact\nthat death and marriage were very intimately associated in thought\nby some of the ancient writers as they are by many of the modern\npeasants. Custom will be found to tell the same tale, and will prove\nhow generally accepted was this idea. For in point after point which\nArtemidorus does not mention in his brief enumeration--and without\nreckoning, as he does, such purely business matters as the inventory\nof goods--we shall find that the ceremonies incidental to a funeral\nhave now, and had in old time, a curiously close resemblance to the\nceremonies incidental to marriage; and, so finding, we may be confident\nthat they were informed by a general and wide-spread belief that to die\nwas but to marry into Hades\u2019 house. Let us review them briefly and in\norder[1390].\n\nThe first ceremony in both functions alike was, and is, a solemn\nablution. Before a Greek wedding both bride and bridegroom have always\nbeen required to bathe themselves, usually in water specially fetched\nfrom some holy spring. At Athens in old time, according to Thucydides,\nthe spring frequented for this purpose was Callirrho\u00eb[1391]; and\nsimilarly the Thebans had resort to the Ismenus[1392], the maidens\nof the Troad to the Scamander[1393], and the inhabitants of other\ndistricts to some spring or river of local repute[1394]. And at\nthe present day in Athens it is still from Callirrho\u00eb (when there\nis any water there) that the poorer classes fill the bridal bath;\nwhile many a village has its own sacred well or fountain (\u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1)\nto which recourse is regularly had for this same purpose. And this\nwedding-ablution, common, as it would thus appear, to the Greeks of\nall ages, has its counterpart in the funeral-ablution, a ceremony\nlikewise observed in all ages. Thus Sophocles makes Antigone speak of\nhaving washed with her own hands the dead bodies of father, mother,\nand brother[1395]; and Lucian in a mocking tone refers to the same\npractice as general in his day[1396]. At the present day the same rite\nis practically universal in Greece. In some places, and most notably in\nCrete, special magnificence is given to the ceremony by the use of warm\nwine instead of water; in others, as Macedonia[1397], the custom has\ndwindled away, and all that remains of it is a perfunctory moistening\nof the dead man\u2019s face with a piece of cotton-wool soaked in wine. But\nin general the old custom remains unchanged. Thus we see that from\nancient times down to the present day a ceremony of ablution has held a\nplace in the preliminaries alike of a marriage and of a funeral.\n\nAgain in this matter of washing there is one detail of special\ninterest. The water for the bridal bath was in old times fetched by a\nboy or girl[1398] closely related to the bride or the bridegroom, and\nthe \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, as the bearer was called, is still an important figure\nin the wedding ceremonial of the present day. Nowadays, so far as I\nknow, the bearer is always a boy, and further it is essential that both\nhis parents be still living. The \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 therefore has always been\nclosely associated with the marriage-rite. But in antiquity the same\nwater-bearer appears in another connexion. \u2018It was customary,\u2019 we hear,\n\u2018to fetch water (\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd) also for those who died unmarried, and\nthat the figure of a water-bearer (\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd) should be set up over\ntheir tomb. The figure was that of a boy with a pitcher[1399].\u2019 Here we\nhave a clear case of the importation of a ceremony closely connected\nwith marriage into the funeral-rites of the unmarried. How are we\nto explain this custom? On what religious conception was it based?\nClearly, it seems,--in view of that constant association of death\nand marriage which we have observed in ancient literature and modern\nfolk-song--no other interpretation can well be maintained than that,\nfor those who died unwed, death itself was the first and only marriage\nwhich they experienced, and that to such, ere they were laid in Hades\u2019\nnuptial-chamber, there ought to be given those same rites which were\nheld to be a fitting preparation for entrance into the estate of\nwedlock in this world[1400].\n\nThe ceremonial ablutions being concluded, there came next the rites of\nanointing and arraying whether for marriage or for burial. As regards\nthe cosmetics, we might feel well assured, even without the direct\ntestimony of Aristophanes[1401], that they were freely used in ancient\nweddings; and I myself have experienced a sense of suffocation from the\nsame cause at weddings in modern Greece. Similarly at ancient funerals\nthe original purpose of the _lecythi_ was without doubt to contain the\nchoice perfumes for the anointing of the dead[1402]; and the custom\nof anointing is still well known. Then again in the matter of dress,\nthe colour usually considered correct[1403] both for marriage and\nfor burial was white, and, even if this cannot be said to have been\nuniversally the case, at any rate there was, and there still continues\nto be, no less pomp and ornament in the dress of the dead body[1404]\nthan in the array of bride and bridegroom.\n\nIn this connexion too we may notice the use of the actual bridal-dress\nin the funerals of betrothed girls and of young wives. That\nthis practice was known in antiquity is proved by a passage of\nChariton[1405], in which the heroine of his story, Callirrho\u00eb, whose\nfirst adventure, soon after her wedding, consists in being carried out\nto burial while unconscious but not dead, is described as \u2018dressed in\nbridal array\u2019; and exactly the same custom may be witnessed in Greece\nto-day[1406]. In fact not only may the person of the dead be seen\ndressed as for a wedding, but in the folk-songs we hear of the tomb\nitself being adorned like the home to which the bride should have been\nled.\n\n    \u2018Came her lover to her bedside, stooped him down, and met her kiss;\n    Low and faint to his ear only, whispered she, her message this:\n    \u201cWhen I pass away, my lover, deck thou out my tomb for me,\n    As thou would\u2019st have decked the home where wedded I should dwell with thee[1407].\u201d\u2019\n\nYet another point of coincidence between the ceremonial of marriage\nand of funeral is the wearing of a crown. In ancient times \u2018chaplets,\u2019\nsays Becker[1408], \u2018were certainly worn both by bride and bridegroom,\u2019\nand in modern usage they are as essential to the marriage ceremony as\nthe wedding-rings. At a certain point in the service, it is the duty\nof the best man, assisted by the chief bridesmaid, to keep exchanging\nthe rings from the hands of the bride and bridegroom, and in like\nmanner to exchange the crowns which they wear from the head of one to\nthe head of the other; and as the rings are always worn afterwards,\nso the two crowns are carefully preserved and hung up together in the\nnew home. Equally well-established is the use of garlands in ancient\nfunerals[1409], and, if not quite universal at the present day[1410],\nthey are at any rate commonly employed in the funerals of women and\nchildren. In Macedonia it is actually the bridal crown which is worn\nfor burial by anyone who was betrothed or newly married[1411].\n\nWorthy of notice too is the not uncommon spectacle of an apple,\nquince[1412], or pomegranate laid among the flowers with which the bier\nis adorned; for all these three fruits have their special significance\nin relation to marriage. The classical custom of throwing an apple into\na girl\u2019s lap as a sign of love is a method of wooing still known to the\nrustic swain. It is not indeed regarded as a highly respectable method,\nbut perhaps neither in old times was it so; for then, as now, the more\nwell-conducted youths seem to have had their wooing, if such it may be\ncalled, carried on through the agency of an elderly lady (in ancient\nGreek \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, in modern \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1) whose negotiations were\nchiefly addressed to the parents on either side, and whose conversation\nsmacked more of dowry than of love. The quince and the pomegranate\nhowever are employed without any offence to propriety. The former is in\nsome districts the food of which the newly-married pair are required to\npartake together at their first entry into their new home; and it is\nhoped that the sweetness of the fruit will so temper their lips that\nnothing but sweet words will ever be addressed by the one to the other.\nTo the open-minded observer it might appear that acidity rather than\nsweetness was the chief characteristic of the quince, and that, if the\nqualities of the fruit are found to affect the tones of those who eat\nit, they would be better advised, as is the custom in some villages,\nto substitute for the quince a well-sugared cake or a dish of honey.\nBut the pomegranate is far more commonly used than the quince, and in\na variety of ways. Sometimes the bride and bridegroom eat together of\nit; elsewhere the bridegroom proffers it to the bride as his first gift\non her entrance to their home, and she alone eats of it; or again she\nmay be required to hurl it down and scatter its seeds over the floor.\nThe second of these methods of using the pomegranate at marriage is, it\nwill be remembered, of venerable antiquity; it was a seed of this fruit\nwhich Hades gave to Persephone to eat, that when she visited again the\nupper world she might not remain there all her days with reverend,\ndark-robed Demeter, but return to her home in the nether world[1413];\nand similarly at the Argive Heraeum, the bride of Zeus was represented\nby Polyclitus holding in one of her hands the fruit of the pomegranate,\nconcerning which, says Pausanias, there is a mystic story not to be\ndivulged[1414]. Here again then is found the same close association of\ndeath and marriage. The three fruits, apple, quince, and pomegranate,\neach of which possesses a special use and purport in the preliminaries\nor the actual ceremony of marriage, are also the fruits most commonly\nlaid upon the bier, in token, as it must appear, that death is but a\nmarriage into the unseen world. In the light of such customs we can\nread with fuller understanding that simple and yet mystic dirge, \u2018The\nWedding in Hades\u2019:\n\n    \u2018My mother maketh glad to-day, she maketh my son\u2019s wedding,\n    She goeth for water to the springs, for snow unto the mountains,\n    To fruit-wives in their garden-plots for apples and for quinces...[1415].\u2019\n\nThus in point after point the rites of marriage and the rites of death\namong Greeks both past and present have been found to coincide; and\nthe number of these points of coincidence is too large to admit of\ntheir being referred to accident; design is evident. We are bound to\nsuppose either that marriage-ceremonies were deliberately transferred\nto the funeral-rite, or that funeral-ceremonies were deliberately\ntransferred to the marriage-rite. Which supposition shall we prefer?\nThere can be no real question. It is impossible to conceive of a people\nso cynical or so distempered as to darken the wedding-day with grim\nreminders of death. But to transfer some of the usages of marriage to\nthe funeral-scene was to infuse one ray of hope where all else was\nsorrow and darkness, to teach that, though the dead and the mourners\nmight grieve for their parting, yet by that parting from the old home\nthe dead was to enter upon a new life, a life of wedded happiness, in\nthe unseen world. For indeed if there were no such intention as this,\nwhat was the meaning of the \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 set up over the grave of the\nunmarried, what the purpose of adorning the dead with wedding-garment\nand wedding-crown? These two acts at least are no accidents; they\nreveal a studied purpose of assimilating the usages of death to the\nusages of marriage; and if that purpose underlay two of the customs\nenumerated, there is good warrant for the belief that in all the\ncoincidences between marriage-rites and funeral-rites the same thought\nwas operating--that very thought which has been found to be the common\nproperty of the Greek race, from one of the masters of ancient tragedy\ndown to the humblest peasant of our day. Custom past and present,\nancient literature, modern folk-song, all agree in their presentment of\ndeath as a marriage into the house of Hades.\n\nOn this popular and withal recondite conception of death were founded,\nI believe, the highest religious aspirations of the ancient Greeks.\nSuch as had served their gods piously and purely in this life might\nhope to win a closer union, as of wedlock, with those gods in the life\nhereafter. To them there could be neither blasphemy nor presumption\nin their hope; for to pious believers the fabled experience of their\nown ancestors in this life was a warrant for aspiring themselves to\nthe same bliss at least hereafter; what had been, might be again.\nNay, more; not only was the belief that the highest bliss of the\nhereafter consisted in the marriage of men with their gods free\nfrom all reproach of impiety, but it was the logical development of\ntwo religious sentiments which we have already reviewed--the desire\nfor close communion between gods and men, and the belief that men\nafter death and dissolution would still enjoy, like their gods,\ncorporeal existence. A previous chapter has been devoted to a detailed\nexamination of the means whereby men in their daily life sought to\nmaintain communication with the powers above them--oracles from which\nall might enquire and win inspired response; interpretation of the\nflight and cries of birds that were the messengers of heaven; reading\nof the signs written by the finger of some god on the flesh of the\nvictim presented to him; divination from sight and sound and dream;\nsacrifice whereby some message of prayer might be sent with speed and\nsafety to the god who had power to fulfil it. And in general it will,\nI think, be admitted that the main tendency of Greek religious thought\nwas to draw gods and men nearer together, alike by an anthropomorphic\nconception of the gods and by an apotheosis of human beauty; that it\nwas to subserve this end that Art became the handmaid of Religion, and\nstrove to express the divine in terms of the human, to discover in man\nthe potentialities of godhead. All religious hope and ambition and\neffort turned upon communion with the gods. How then in the next world\nshould hope be fulfilled, ambition satisfied, effort rewarded? What\nshould be the glorious consummation? Marriage was the closest communion\nbetween mortals in this world; marriage, so sang the poets, bound\ngods together in closest communion. Men\u2019s aspirations for communion\nwith their gods could find no final satisfaction save in marriage. To\nthe few, we may suppose--men of refined and reflective mind, capable\nof imagining spiritual joys--this marriage of men and gods was but a\nmystic, figurative expression for the union of man\u2019s soul with the soul\nof God, a thought as chastened and innocent of all sensuous connotation\nas the thought of many a woman who in a later era, withdrawn from the\nworld, has comforted her loneliness with the hope of being the bride\nof Christ. But the many, I suspect, flinched not before a bold and\nliteral interpretation of the thought, and, believing that, when death\nand physical dissolution were past, body as well as soul survived in\nanother world, dared dream that having passed the gates of mortality\ninto the demesne of the immortals they should be wedded, body and soul,\nin true wedlock with those deities who by veiled communion with them\nin this world had prepared them for sight and touch and full fruition\nhereafter.\n\nBut, it will be asked, where in all Greek literature can we find a\nstatement, where even a hint, of this strange doctrine? Nowhere a\nstatement; often a hint; for these were things not to be divulged to\nthe profane. To those alone who were initiated into the Mysteries was\nthe doctrine revealed, and even to them, it may be, in parables only\nwhose inner meaning each must probe for himself.\n\nThere have of course been those who have made light of the mysteries\nof the old Greek religion, and have seen in them nothing but the\nimpositions of a close hierarchy playing upon the ignorance and\ncredulity and fear of the common-folk. But when we consider the\nveneration in which the more famous mysteries were held for many\ncenturies, when we remember that Eleusis was respected and left\ninviolate not only by the Lacedaemonians and other Greek peoples when\nthey invaded Attic territory, but even by the Persians who had dared\nto devastate the Acropolis, and in later times by the yet ruder Celts,\nthen it is easier to believe that we are dealing with a great religious\ninstitution based upon solid principles and vital doctrines which\ndeserved a wide-spread and long-continued reverence from mankind, than\nthat it was all the elaborate and empty hoax of a crafty priesthood.\n\nNor again does the view which makes Demeter simply a corn-goddess\nand the Eleusinian mysteries a portentous harvest-thanksgiving--and\nthat apparently somewhat premature--require any long or serious\nconsideration. Corn indeed was one of the blessings given by Demeter\nto this upper world of living men; perhaps in the very earliest ages\nof her worship this was the sum total of the boons which men sought of\nher; doubtless even in her fully-developed mysteries a part of men\u2019s\nthanks were still for the garnered harvest of the last year and for\nthe promise which the green fields gave of her bounty once more to be\nrenewed; for even in the nineteenth century of the Christian era her\nstatue amid the ruins of Eleusis was still associated by the peasants\nwith agriculture, and the removal of it, they apprehended, would cause\na failure of the crops[1416]. But in old time this was not all. To\nspeak of Demeter as a mere personification of cereals is to advocate\na partial truth little better than the cynical falsehood which makes\nher only the stalking-horse of designing priests. For what said men\nof light and learning among the ancients[1417], men who knew the whole\ntruth and the whole Spirit of her worship? \u2018Thrice happy they of men\nthat have looked upon these rites ere they go to Hades\u2019 house; for they\nalone there have true life, the rest have nought there but ill[1418].\u2019\nSo Sophocles, in language clearly recalling that of the so-called\nHomeric hymn[1419] to Demeter; and in harmony with him Pindar: \u2018Happy\nhe that hath seen those rites ere he go beneath the earth; he knoweth\nlife\u2019s consummation, he knoweth its god-given source[1420].\u2019 And\nsurely such consummation of life should be in that paradise, where\n\u2018mid meadows red with roses lieth the space before the city\u2019s gates,\nall hazy with frankincense and laden with golden fruits,\u2019 where \u2018the\nglorious sun sheds his light while night is here[1421]\u2019; for to this\nbelief even Aristophanes subscribes, neither daring nor wishing to\nmake mock of the blessed ones who in the other world have part in the\ngod-beloved festival, and wend their way with song and dance through\nthe holy circle of the goddess, a lawn bright with flowers, meadows\nwhere roses richly blossom--on whom alone in their night-long worship\nthe sun yet shines and a gracious light, for that they have learnt the\nmysteries and dealt righteously with all men[1422].\n\nHere then are the three great masters of lyric poetry, of tragedy,\nand of comedy in substantial agreement; and the hopes which they hold\nout are not the mere exuberance of poetic fancy, for sober prose\naffirms the same beliefs. What says Isocrates? \u2018Demeter ... being\ngraciously minded towards our forefathers because of their services\nto her, services of which none but the initiated may hear, gave us\nthe greatest of all gifts, first, those fruits of the earth which\nsaved us from living the life of beasts, and secondly, that rite which\nmakes happier the hopes of those that participate therein concerning\nboth the end of life and their whole existence; and our city proved\nherself not only god-beloved but also loving toward mankind, in that,\nhaving become mistress of such blessings, she grudged them not to\nthe rest of the world, but gave to all men a share in that she had\nreceived[1423].\u2019 Of this passage Lobeck[1424] was disposed to make\nlight, and that for the reason that Isocrates in another passage[1425],\nwith less orthodoxy perhaps and more charity, in speaking of the\npious and upright in general, employs part of the same phrase which\nin the passage before us he applies to the initiated only. All good\nmen, he says, have happier hopes \u2018concerning their whole existence\u2019;\nvirtue, that is, may expect a reward, vice a punishment, either here\nor hereafter. Are these fair grounds on which to condemn his reference\nto the mysteries as a meaningless common-place? If any comment is to\nbe made upon this repetition of a well-known phrase, would it not be\nfairer to note that in reference to the mysteries he speaks of men\u2019s\nhappier hopes not only generally--\u2018concerning their whole existence\u2019\n(\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c3\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f30\u1ff6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) but also specifically--\u2018concerning the end\nof life\u2019 (\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2), and thus echoes the words of\nPindar above quoted, \u2018he knoweth the consummation of life\u2019 (\u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd\n\u03b2\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ac\u03bd)? Nor is there any dearth of other authorities to prove\nthat it was after death that the hopes of the initiated should \u2018be\nemptied in delight.\u2019 Let us hear Aristides. \u2018Nay, but the benefit of\nthe (Eleusinian) festival is not merely the cheerfulness of the moment\nand the freedom and respite from all previous troubles, but also the\npossession of happier hopes concerning the end, hopes that our life\nhereafter will be the better, and that we shall not lie in darkness and\nin filth--the fate that is believed to await the uninitiated[1426].\u2019\nSuch seem to have been the general terms in which the benefits of the\nmysteries might be recommended to the profane. The same ideas, almost\nthe same phrases, occur again and again. Witness the well-known story\nof Diogenes the Cynic, who, when urged by a young man to get himself\ninitiated, answered, \u2018It is strange, my young friend, if you fancy\nthat by virtue of this rite the publicans will share with the gods\nthe good things of Hades\u2019 house, while Agesilaus and Epaminondas lie\nin filth[1427].\u2019 Or again let us read the advice of Crinagoras to his\nfriend: \u2018Set thy foot on Cecropian soil, that thou may\u2019st behold those\nnights of Demeter\u2019s great mysteries, which shall free thee from care\namong the living, and, when thou goest where most are gone, shall make\nthy heart lighter[1428].\u2019 And with equal seriousness Cicero, who in\nhis ideal state would forbid all nocturnal rites as tending towards\nexcesses, would except the Eleusinian mysteries, not only because of\ntheir humanising and cheering influence upon men\u2019s life in this world\nbut also because they furnish better hopes in death[1429].\n\nSuch are the most important passages bearing upon the religious as\nopposed to the temporal and agricultural aspects of Demeter\u2019s worship,\nsuch the general terms in which the blessings flowing therefrom were\novertly described by men who knew the details of the covert doctrine.\nThe information contained in them amounts to this: the initiated\nreceived in the mysteries a hope, a pledge, perhaps a foretaste, of the\nfuture bliss reserved for them only; the profane should lie in filth\nand outer darkness; the blessed should dwell in pleasant meadows, and\nthe sun should shine bright upon them; they should be god-beloved, and\nshould share with the gods the good things of the next world.\n\nNow obviously these vague and general promises are conceived in the\ntone and the spirit of that popular religion which had sprung from\nthe very heart of the Hellenic folk. The pleasant meadows where the\ninitiated should dwell are none other than that place which appears\nonce as the asphodel mead, anon as the islands of the blessed or as\npart of the under-world, and is now named Paradise. The light which\nillumines even the night-time of the blessed is the necessary contrast\nto the murky gloom of a nether abode, conceived almost in the spirit of\nHomer, where the profane must lie as in a slough. And finally the close\ncommunion of the blessed with gods who love them is the consummation of\nthose hopes which the whole Hellenic people entertained, and of those\nefforts which the whole Hellenic people put forth, to attain to close\nintercourse in this life with the gods whom they worshipped. Clearly\nthen the general promises, whose inner mysteries were revealed only to\nthe initiated, were based upon the old ideals, the innate beliefs, the\ntraditional hopes, in a word, the natural and spontaneous religion of\nthe Hellenic race.\n\nAnd, as at Eleusis, so probably in other mysteries. In a famous\npassage Theo Smyrnaeus[1430] compares the successive steps to be taken\nin the study of philosophy with the several stages of initiation in\nmysteries, and Lobeck[1431] in his examination of the passage has\nshown that the reference is not to the mysteries of Eleusis, or at any\nrate not to them only. It is probable enough that Theo was speaking of\nmysteries in general, both public and private, in most of which there\nwere, doubtless, several grades of initiation, and he may even have\nselected the details of his illustration (for it is an analogy only,\nnot an argument, in which he is engaged) from different rites. Yet for\nhis fifth and final stage of initiation, beyond even \u2018open vision\u2019\n(\u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1) and \u2018exposition\u2019 (\u03b4\u1fb3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03af\u03b1 or \u1f30\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b1), he names that\nbliss which is the outcome of the earlier stages, the bliss of being\ngod-beloved and sharing the life of gods (\u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u1f72\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2\n\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1).\n\nThe recurrence of the word \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2 in the above passages, whether in\nreference to the Eleusinian or to other mysteries, cannot but excite\nattention; and we shall not I think go far astray if we take the last\nphrase of Theo Smyrnaeus, \u2018the bliss of being god-beloved and sharing\nthe life of gods,\u2019 as an epitome of the somewhat vague and general\npromises held out to the profane as an inducement to initiation. This\nwas the fulfilment of those \u2018happier hopes\u2019--to use another recurrent\nphrase--of which the initiated might only speak in guarded fashion.\nThe exact interpretation of this phrase, as we shall have reason\nto believe when we consider the separate rites in detail, was the\ngreat mystic secret. But of that more anon; for the present let us\nsuppose that the general assurances openly given concerning both the\nEleusinian and other mysteries are fairly summed up in the promise \u2018of\nbeing god-beloved and of sharing the life of gods.\u2019 Such a promise\nappealed to those innate hopes of the whole Greek race which manifested\nthemselves in their constant striving after close intercourse and\ncommunion with their gods; in other words, the happier hopes concerning\nthe hereafter, which the mysteries sought to appropriate and to reserve\nto the initiated alone, had for their basis the natural religion of the\nHellenic folk.\n\nTo admit this is necessarily to admit the validity of Lobeck\u2019s\nrefutation of those critics who have sought to father on the\nmysteries, usually on those of Eleusis, doctrines and ideas foreign\nto, or even incompatible with, popular Greek religion--pantheism, the\nemanation of the human soul from the soul of God, the transmigration\nof souls, the Platonic theory of ideas, the unity of God omnipotent\nand omniscient[1432], and such-like religious products of different\nages and different climes. For if we were to accept the view that the\nteaching of the mysteries was a thing apart from the ordinary trend and\ntenor of the popular religion, then we should be compelled to regard\nthose general promises of future bliss (which were in truth, as we have\njust seen, based upon popular religion) as a fraudulent bait designed\nto entice men away from their old beliefs and to ensnare them in dogma\nand priestcraft; and if any would impute fraud, there awaits them the\ntask of convicting Pindar, Sophocles, Aristophanes, Isocrates, and\nothers who wrote of that which they knew, of conspiracy to deceive.\n\nBut while the promises held forth by the Eleusinian and other\nmysteries, and therefore also the doctrines which elucidated those\nvague promises, were a product of the popular religion, those doctrines\nthemselves were not a matter of popular knowledge. The very fact of\ninitiation, the death-penalty inflicted upon the profane who by any\nmeans penetrated to the scene of the mysteries, the wild indignation\nexcited in Athens by a charge of mocking the mystic rites, the\nscrupulous privacy observed in investigating that charge before a court\ncomposed of the initiated only--all these are proofs that Eleusis was\nthe school of secret beliefs and hopes held in deep veneration by those\nto whom the knowledge of them was vouchsafed. Secret doctrines existed;\nthat which had sprung from the beliefs of the many had become the\nproperty of the few. How can this be explained?\n\nThe explanation is not difficult. The worship of Demeter and possibly\nmany other rites which were afterwards called \u2018mysteries\u2019 were the most\nholy part of the religion of the Pelasgians; and when the Achaeans, a\npeople of strange tongue and strange religion, came among them, the\nPelasgians would not admit them to a knowledge of their rites but\nthenceforth performed those rites in secrecy. This is proved by two\nfacts. First, the rites which at Eleusis, in Samothrace, and among the\nCicones in Thrace, the country of Orpheus, were imparted as mysteries\nto the initiated only, were in Crete open to all and there was no\nobligation to secrecy concerning them[1433]. Secondly, at Eleusis at\nany rate the purity required of candidates for initiation was not\nonly physical and spiritual, as secured by ablution and abstinence,\nbut also linguistic; it was necessary \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\u1fc7[1434], to\nspeak the Greek language purely. These two facts taken together solve\nthe difficulty. Before the coming of the Achaeans the whole Pelasgian\npopulation whether of the Greek mainland or of such an island as Crete\ncelebrated the rites of Demeter openly. In Crete, where no Achaeans\npenetrated, the old custom naturally continued unchanged. On the\nmainland the influx of a people of strange tongue and strange religion\nnecessitated secrecy in the native rites, lest the presence of men\nwho knew not Demeter should profane her worship; the right of entry\ntherefore at her festivals was decided by the simplest test of Achaean\nor Pelasgian nationality, the test of speech; and in later times, when\nthe Achaeans had acquired the Pelasgian speech[1435], the customs\nthus established were not abolished; the rites of Demeter remained\n\u2018mysteries\u2019 to be conducted in secret, and the Shibboleth was still\nexacted.\n\nSince then we may not seek in the teachings of the mysteries anything\nalien from the spirit of the popular religion, the scope of our enquiry\nis more limited and its course more clear. The secret to be discovered\nis something which had been evolved from the popular religion, some\nintensification and higher development of those hopes and beliefs,\nyearnings and strivings, which have continuously marked the religious\nlife of the Greek folk. Now the mass of the Greek people have always\nhoped and believed, as their care for the dead has constantly shown,\nthat beyond death and dissolution lay a life in which body and soul\nshould be re-united and restored to their old activity; the mysteries\nmight well confirm the initiated in that expectation and picture to\nthem the happy habitations where they should dwell. Again the mass of\nthe Greek people have always yearned and striven by manifold means in\nthis life for close communion with their gods; the mysteries might\nwell be a sacrament which afforded to the initiated both a means and\na pledge of enjoying in the next world, to which body as well as soul\nshould pass, the closest of all communion with their gods, the union of\nwedlock.\n\nLet it then be supposed that the two main ideas of the mysteries,\nwhether expounded in speech or represented in ritual, were\nthese--bodily survival after death, and marriage of men with gods;\nwhat would have been the natural attitude of Christians towards these\ndoctrines? For it is in the light of the charges brought by early\nChristian writers against the mysteries that such a supposition must\nfirst be examined. The doctrine of the immortality of the body as well\nas of the soul was evidently little exposed to Christian attacks; and\nit may have been because the Christian doctrine of the resurrection\nhad much in common with the old Greek doctrine, that St Paul found\namong his audience on the Areopagus some who did not mock, but said \u2018We\nwill hear thee again of this matter.\u2019 But with the further doctrine\nof marriage between men and gods Christianity could have no sympathy,\nbut would inevitably regard it as offensive both in theology and in\nmorality, as implying the existence of a plurality of gods, and as\nsavouring of that sensuality, which above all other sin the apostle to\nthe Gentiles set himself to combat.\n\nAnd it is in fact upon these two points that the mass of the\naccusations brought by early Christian writers against Greek paganism\nhinge and hang. These were the points at which Greek religion seemed\nto its assailants most readily vulnerable, and against which they\nsought to use as weapons the very language of paganism itself. Just as\nClement of Alexandria[1436] seeks to prove out of the mouth of Homer,\nwho speaks of the gods in general as \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2[1437], that the Greek\ngods are confessedly mere _demons_ (for the word \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd had seemingly\ndeteriorated in meaning), that is to say, abominable and unclean\nspirits, enemies of the one true God, so too the words \u1f04\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 and\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, used by the pagans of their \u2018unspeakable\u2019 mysteries, were\nmisinterpreted by the Christians with one consent and became a handle\nfor convicting the old religion of \u2018unnameable\u2019 impurities.\n\nWith the question of polytheism however we are not further concerned;\nwhether the Hellenic gods were true gods, as their worshippers held, or\ndevils, as Clement thought, or non-existent, as many will think to-day,\nmatters not; all that we need to know in this respect is known, namely,\nthat the mysteries, like the popular religion, acknowledged a plurality\nof gods; for in the Eleusinian drama alone several gods played a part.\nIt is rather the frequent and violent charges of impurity which call\nfor investigation.\n\nA few examples will suffice for the present. A comprehensive\ndenunciation is that of Eusebius, who charges the pagans with\ncelebrating, \u2018in chant and hymn and story and in the unnameable rites\nof the mysteries, adulteries and yet baser lusts, and incestuous unions\nof mother with son, brother with sister[1438].\u2019 And again he says, \u2018In\nevery city rites and mysteries of gods are taught, in harmony with\nthe mythical stories of old time, so that even now in these rites,\nas well as in hymns and odes to the gods, men can hear of marriages\nof the gods, and of their procreation of children, and of dirges for\ndeath, and of drunken excesses, and of wanderings, and of passionate\nlove or anger[1439].\u2019 Equally outspoken is Clement of Alexandria\nin his \u2018Exhortation to the heathen.\u2019 Some specific statements in\nthat work concerning the mysteries of several gods, though they\nsupport the general charges of impurity, may be postponed for later\nexamination. It will be enough here to adduce the phrases in which,\nafter denouncing those who, whether in the mysteries of the temples\nor the paintings with which their own houses were adorned, loved to\nlook upon the lusts of gods (he risks even the word \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03af), and\n\u2018regarded incontinence as piety,\u2019 Clement reaches the climax of his\ninvective:--\u2018Such are your models of voluptuousness, such your creeds\nof lust, such the doctrines of gods who commit fornication with you;\nfor, as the Athenian orator says, what a man wishes, that he also\nbelieves[1440].\u2019 This brutal directness of Clement is however hardly\nmore effective than the elegant innuendo of Synesius in dealing with\nthe same subject. Commenting on the secrecy of the nocturnal rites, he\ndescribes them as celebrated at \u2018times and places competent to conceal\n\u1f00\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f14\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd[1441]\u2019--a phrase which I despair of rendering, for\nthe \u2018unspeakable acts\u2019 to which \u2018divine frenzy\u2019 led, are those which\nare either too holy or too infamous to be named.\n\nThese few typical passages amply demonstrate that alike by insinuation\nand by open accusation the Christian writers conspired to brand the\nmysteries with the infamy of deeds unnameable. What is the explanation\nof this organised campaign of calumny?\n\nSome have supposed that the Christian writers in general confused\nthe public and the private mysteries, and that, aware of the license\nwhich characterized the latter, they included all in one condemnation.\nBut this explanation appears at any rate inadequate. We have seen\nhow Cicero distinguished sharply between the Eleusinian mysteries,\nin which he had participated and for which he felt reverence, and\nother nocturnal rites which gave shelter to all manner of excess. It\nis difficult therefore to suppose that in later times the Christian\nwriters should all have fallen unwittingly into the error of confusing\nall mysteries together; and no less difficult to imagine that, if\nthey recognised how far removed were the most respected of the public\nmysteries from the baser private orgies, they should have deliberately\nexposed themselves to the charge of ignorance of the subject concerning\nwhich they presumed to preach. Clement of Alexandria was too shrewd a\ndisputant so to stultify himself.\n\nNor again is it a sufficient explanation to say that the strain and\nexcitement of such mysteries as those of Eleusis were responsible\nfor a certain amount of subsequent indiscretion. Let it be granted\nthat many of those who had witnessed the solemn rites were guilty\nafterwards of drunkenness and licentiousness[1442]; yet these would\nbe no grounds for convicting the mysteries themselves of impurity;\nto so perverted a charge the heathen might well have answered that\nrioting and drunkenness had not been unknown at the Christians\u2019 most\nsolemn service; and indeed the same argument could up to this day\nbe used against the Greek celebration of Easter. No; the charges of\nimpurity were brought against the mysteries themselves, not against the\nincidental misdoings of some who had witnessed them. It must have been\neither the doctrines taught or the dramatic representations by means\nof which they were taught that furnished the Christian writers with a\nhandle for accusation.\n\nNow if, as I have supposed, the doctrine of the marriage of men with\ntheir gods was the cardinal doctrine of the mysteries (for the other\ndoctrine of bodily survival is merely preliminary and subordinate to\nthis), and if some dramatic representation was given as a means of\ninstilling into men\u2019s minds the hope of attaining to that summit of\nbliss, it is not difficult to see what an opening the mysteries gave\nto their opponents for the charges which were actually brought. The\nultimate bliss promised to the initiated was in general terms said to\nconsist in \u2018being god-beloved and dwelling with the gods,\u2019 and this\nphrase, we are supposing, signified to the initiated themselves an\nassurance that their gods would admit them even to wedlock with them\nin the future life. It required then no great ingenuity in the way of\nmisrepresentation for Clement, if he had but an inkling of the secret\ndoctrine, to denounce the heathen and their beliefs in that opprobrious\nphrase, \u2018Such are the doctrines of gods that commit fornication with\nyou.\u2019 This champion of Christianity knew no chivalry, gave no quarter,\ndisdained no weapon, held no method of attack too base or insidious,\nif only he could wound and crush his heathen foes. It was his part to\npervert, to degrade, to blaspheme their whole religion; and that which\nthey held most sacred was marked out for his most virulent scorn.\nNaturally to those who drew near with pure and reverent minds the\nmysteries wore a very different aspect. That which Clement misnamed\nlust, they felt to be love; where he saw only degradation, they\nrecognised a wonderful condescension of their gods. For in the words of\nthat religion which Clement preached \u2018to the pure all things are pure\u2019;\nand it was purification which the initiated sought by abstinence and\nablution during the first part of the Eleusinian festival before they\nwere admitted to their holy of holies.\n\nIndeed if we would understand at all the spirit in which the ancient\nGreeks approached the celebration of the mysteries, we should do well\nto turn our attention for a little to the modern Greek celebration\nof Holy Week and Easter; for this is, so to speak, the Christian\ncounterpart of the old mysteries, and seems to owe much to them. It\nso happens that Easter falls in the same period of the year as did\nthe great Eleusinian festival--the period when the re-awakening of\nthe earth from its winter sleep suggests to man his own re-awakening\nfrom the sleep of death; and it is probable that the Church turned\nthis coincidence in time to good account by making her own festival a\nsubstitute for the festival of Demeter or other kindred rites, and even\nby modelling her own services after the pagan pattern; for it would\nseem that the Church, when once her early struggles had secured her\na firm position, exchanged hostility for conciliation, and sought to\nabsorb rather than to oust paganism. Her complaisance is clearly seen\nin the ceremonies of Good Friday and Easter; for, with all her severe\nrepression of the use of idols (whose place however is well supplied\nby the pictures which are called icons), she has permitted the use of\na sculptured figure at this one festival, and even down to this day\nChrist is represented in some localities[1443] in effigy; and it can\nhardly be doubted that the purpose of this concession was to make the\nChristian festival as dramatic and attractive as the pagan mysteries\ncelebrated at the same season. Again the absorption of pagan ideas is\nwell illustrated by the belief still prevalent among the peasants that\nthe Easter festival, like the cult of Demeter, has an important bearing\nupon the growth of the crops. A story in point was told to me by one\nwho had travelled in Greece[1444]. Happening to be in some village of\nEub\u0153a during Holy Week, he had been struck by the emotion which the\nGood Friday services evoked; and observing on the next day the same\ngeneral air of gloom and despondency, he questioned an old woman about\nit; whereupon she replied, \u2018Of course I am anxious; for if Christ does\nnot rise to-morrow, we shall have no corn this year.\u2019\n\nIn other details too there is a close correspondence between the pagan\nand the Christian festivals. As a period of abstinence was required\nof the _mystae_, so during Lent and still more strictly during Holy\nWeek the Greek peasants keep a fast which certainly predisposes them\nto hysterical emotion during the services; and _en revanche_, just as\nthe initiated are said to have indulged themselves too freely when the\nmysteries were over, so the modern peasants, when the announcement of\nthe Resurrection has been made, disperse in haste to feast upon their\nEaster lamb, and while it is still a-cooking experience the inevitable\neffects of plentiful wine on an empty stomach. Again, just as the rites\nof Eleusis were nocturnal, so the chief services of Holy Week are those\nof the Friday night and the Saturday night; and it may be that the\ntorch-light processions which close the services on those two nights\nare related to the \u03b4\u1fb3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03af\u03b1 of Eleusis. But these are minor details;\nit is in the actual services of Good Friday and Easter that the most\nstriking resemblance to the Eleusinian mysteries is found, and the\nspirit in which the worshippers approach may still be the same now as\nthen. Let me briefly describe the festival as I saw it in the island\nof Santorini, or, to give it the old name which has revived in modern\ntimes, Thera.\n\nThe Lenten fast was drawing to a close when I arrived. For the first\nweek it is strictly observed, meat, fish, eggs, milk, cheese, and\neven olive-oil being prohibited, so that the ordinary diet is reduced\nto bread and water, to which is sometimes added a nauseous soup made\nfrom dried cuttle-fish or octopus; for these along with shellfish\nare not reckoned to be animal food, as being bloodless. During the\nnext four weeks some relaxation is allowed; but no one with any\npretensions to piety would even then partake of fish, meat, or eggs;\nthe last-mentioned are stored up until Easter and then, being dyed\nred, are either eaten or--more wisely--offered to visitors. Then comes\n\u2018the Great Week\u2019 (\u1f21 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b7 \u1f11\u03b2\u03b4\u03bf\u03bc\u03ac\u03b4\u03b1), and with it the same strict\nregulations come into force as during the first week of Lent. It was\nnot hard to perceive that for most of the villagers the fast had been\na real and painful abstinence. Work had almost ceased; for there was\nlittle energy left. Leisure was not enjoyed; for there was little\nspirit even for chatting. Everywhere white, sharp-featured faces told\nof real hunger; and the silence was most often broken by an outburst\nof irritability. In a few days time I could understand it; for I too\nperforce fasted; and I must own that a daily diet of dry bread for\n_d\u00e9jeuner_ and of dry bread and octopus soup for dinner soon changed my\noutlook upon life. Little wonder then if these folk after six weeks of\nsuch treatment were nervous and excitable.\n\nSuch was the condition of body and mind in which they attended the\nlong service of Good Friday night. Service I have said, but drama\nwere a more fitting word, a funeral-drama. At the top of the nave,\njust below the chancel-step, stood a bier and upon it lay the figure\nof the Christ, all too death-like in the dim light. The congregation\ngaze upon him, reverently hushed, while the priests\u2019 voices rise in\nprayer and chant as it were in lamentation for the dead God lying\nthere in state. Hour after hour passes. The women have kissed the\ndead form, and are gone. The moment has come for carrying the Christ\nout to burial. The procession moves forward--in front, the priests\nwith candles and torches and, guarded by them, the open bier borne\nshoulder-high--behind, a reverent, bare-headed crowd. The night is\ndark and gusty. It rains, and the rugged, tortuous alleys of the town\nare slippery. It is late, but none are sleeping. Unheeding of wind\nand rain, the women kneel at open door or window, praying, swinging\ncensers, sprinkling perfume on the passing bier. Slowly, haltingly, led\nby the dirge of priests, now in darkness, now lighted by the torches\u2019\nflare and intermittent beams from cottage doorways, groping at corners,\nstumbling in ill-paved by-ways, the mourners follow their God to his\ngrave. The circuit of the town is done. All have taken their last look\nupon the dead. The sepulchre is reached--a vault beneath the church\nfrom which the funeral started. The priests alone enter with the bier.\nThere is a pause. The crowd waits. The silence is deep as the darkness,\nonly broken here and there by a deep-drawn sigh. Is it the last depth\nof anguish, or is it well-nigh relief that the long strain is over?\nThe priests return. In silence the crowd have waited, in silence they\ndisperse. It is finished.\n\nBut there is a sequel on the morrow. Soon after dark on Easter-eve\nthe same weary yet excited faces may be seen gathered in the church.\nBut there is a change too; there is a feeling abroad of anxiety, of\nexpectancy. Hours must yet pass ere midnight, and not till then is\nthere hope of the announcement, \u2018Christ is risen!\u2019 The suspense seems\nlong. To-night there is restlessness rather than silence. Some go to\nand fro between the church and their homes; others join discordantly\nin the chants and misplace the responses; anything to cheat the long\nhours of waiting. Midnight draws near; from hand to hand are passed\nthe tapers and candles which shall light the joyful procession, if\nonly the longed-for announcement be made. What is happening there now\nbehind those curtains which veil the chancel from the expectant throng?\nMidnight strikes. The curtains are drawn back. Yes, there is the\nbier, borne but yesternight to the grave. It is empty. That is only\nthe shroud upon it. The words of the priest ring out true, \u2018Christ is\nrisen!\u2019 And there behind the chancel, see, a second veil is drawn back.\nThere in the sanctuary, on the altar-steps, bright with a blaze of\nlight stands erect the figure of the Christ who, so short and yet so\nlong a while ago, was borne lifeless to the tomb. A miracle, a miracle!\nQuickly from the priest\u2019s lighted candle the flame is passed. In a\nmoment the dim building is illumined by a lighted taper in every hand.\nA procession forms, a joyful procession now. Everywhere are light and\nglad voices and the embraces of friends, crying aloud the news \u2018Christ\nis risen\u2019 and answering \u2018He is risen indeed.\u2019 In every home the lamb is\nprepared with haste, the wine flows freely; in the streets is the flash\nof torches, the din of fire-arms, and all the exuberance of simple\njoy. The fast is over; the dead has been restored to life before men\u2019s\neyes; well may they rejoice even to ecstasy. For have they not felt the\necstasy of sorrow? This was no tableau on which they looked, no drama\nin which they played a part. It was all true, all real. The figure on\nthe bier was indeed the dead Christ; the figure on the altar-steps was\nindeed the risen Christ. In these simple folk religion has transcended\nreason; they have reached the heights of spiritual exaltation; they\nhave seen and felt as minds more calm and rational can never see nor\nfeel.\n\nAnd the ancient Greeks, had not they too the gift of ecstasy, the\nfaculty to soar above facts on the wings of imagination? When the drama\nof Demeter and Kore was played before the eyes of the initiated at\nEleusis, were not they too uplifted in mind until amid the magic of\nnight they were no longer spectators of a drama but themselves had a\nshare in Demeter\u2019s sorrow and wandering and joy? For the pagan story\nis not unlike the Christian story in its power to move both tears and\ngladness. As now men mourn beside the bier of Christ, so in old time\nmay men have shared Demeter\u2019s mourning for her child who though divine\nhad suffered the lot of men and passed away to the House of Hades. As\nnow men rejoice when they behold the risen Christ, so in old time may\nmen have shared Demeter\u2019s joy when her child returned from beneath the\nearth, proving that there is life beyond the grave. But the old story\ntaught more than this. Not only did Kore live in the lower world, but\nher passing thither was not death but wedding. Therefore just as now\nthe resurrection of Christ, who though divine is the representative of\nmankind, is held to be an earnest of man\u2019s resurrection, so the wedded\nlife of Kore in the nether world may have been to the initiated an\nassurance of the same bliss to be vouchsafed to them hereafter.\n\nWhat was there then in this drama of Demeter and Kore at which the\nChristian writers could take offence or cavil? We do not of course\nknow in what detail the story was represented; but the pivot on which\nthe whole plot turned was necessarily the rape of Kore. Now it appears\nthat in the play the part of A\u00efdoneus was taken by an hierophant and\nthe part of Kore by a priestess; and it was the alleged indecency\nresulting therefrom which the fathers of the Church most severely\ncensured. Asterius, after defending the Christians from the charge of\nworshipping saints as if they had been not human but divine, seeks to\nturn the tables on his pagan opponents by accusing them of deifying\nDemeter and Kore, whom he evidently regards as having once been human\nfigures in mythology. Then he continues, \u2018Is not Eleusis the scene\nof the descent into darkness, and of the solemn acts of intercourse\nbetween the hierophant and the priestess, alone together? Are not the\ntorches extinguished, and does not the large, the numberless assembly\nof common people believe that their salvation lies in that which is\nbeing done by the two in the darkness[1445]?\u2019 Again it was objected\nagainst the Valentinians by Tertullian that they copied \u2018the whoredoms\nof Eleusis[1446],\u2019 and from another authority we learn that part of the\nceremonies of these heretics consisted in \u2018preparing a nuptial chamber\u2019\nand celebrating \u2018a spiritual marriage[1447].\u2019 These two statements,\nread in conjunction, form a strong corroboration of the information\ngiven by Asterius; and we are bound to conclude that the scene of the\nrape of Kore was represented at Eleusis by the descent of the priest\nand priestess who played the chief parts into a dark nuptial chamber.\n\nNow it is easy enough to suppose, as Sainte-Croix suggests[1448],\nthat public morals were safeguarded by assigning the chief _r\u00f4les_\nin the drama to persons of advanced age, or, as one ancient author\nstates[1449], by temporarily and partially paralysing the hierophant\nwith a small dose of hemlock. Whether each of the initiated was at any\ntime conducted through the same ritual is uncertain. In the formulary\nof the Eleusinian rites, as recorded by Clement of Alexandria--\u2018I\nfasted; I drank the sacred potion (\u03ba\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b1); I took out of the chest;\nhaving wrought (\u1f10\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2) I put back into the basket and from the\nbasket into the chest[1450]\u2019--the expression \u2018having wrought\u2019 has been\ntaken to be an euphemism denoting the same mystic union as between\nhierophant and priestess[1451]. If this view is correct, it would imply\nno doubt that full initiation required the candidate to go through the\nwhole ritual in person; in this case it must be presumed that some\nprecaution such as the dose of hemlock was taken in the interests of\nmorality.\n\nBut the mere fact that a scene of rape should form any part of a\nreligious rite, was to the Christians a stumbling-block. This was their\ninsurmountable objection to the mysteries, and they were only too prone\nto exaggerate a ceremony, which with reverent and delicate treatment\nneed have been in no way morally deleterious, into a sensual and\nnoxious orgy. The story, how Demeter\u2019s beautiful and innocent daughter\nwas suddenly carried off from the meadow where she was gathering\nflowers into the depths of the dark under-world, spoke to them only\nof the violence and lust of her ravisher A\u00efdoneus. But the legend\nmight bear another complexion. Kore, as representative of mankind or\nat least of the initiated among mankind, suffers what seems the most\ncruel lot, a sudden departure from this life in the midst of youth and\nbeauty and spring-time; and Demeter searches for her awhile in vain,\nand mourns for her as men mourn their dead. Yet afterward it is found\nthat there is no cruelty in Kore\u2019s lot, for she is the honoured bride\nof the king of that world to which she was borne away; and Demeter is\ncomforted, for her child is not dead nor lost to her, but is allowed\nto return in living form to visit her. What then must have been the\n\u2018happier hopes\u2019 held out to those who had looked on the great drama\nof Eleusis? What was meant by that prospect of being \u2018god-beloved\nand sharing the life of gods\u2019? How came it that the assembly of the\ninitiated believed their salvation to lie in the union of Hades and\nPersephone, represented in the persons of hierophant and priestess, in\nthe subterranean nuptial-chamber? What was the bearing of the legend\ndramatically enacted upon these hopes and prospects and beliefs? Surely\nit taught that not only was there physical life beyond death, but a\nlife of wedded happiness with the gods.\n\nAnd the same doctrine seems to be the _motif_ of many other popular\nlegends and of mysteries founded thereon; its settings and its\nharmonies may be different, but the essential melody is the same. At\nEleusis Demeter\u2019s daughter was the representative of mankind, for she\nwent down to the house of Hades as is the lot of men. But Crete had\nanother legend wherein Demeter was the representative deity with whom\nmankind might hope for union. Was it not told how Iasion even in this\nlife found such favour in the goddess\u2019 eyes that she was \u2018wed with\nhim in sweet love mid the fresh-turned furrows of the fat land of\nCrete[1452]\u2019? And happiness such as was granted to him here was laid\nup for all the initiated hereafter; else would there be no meaning in\nthose lines, \u2018Blessed, methinks, is the lot of him that sleeps, and\ntosses not, nor turns, even Endymion; and, dearest maiden, blessed I\ncall Iasion, whom such things befell, as ye that be profane shall never\ncome to know[1453].\u2019 Surely that which is withheld from the profane is\nby implication reserved to the sanctified, and to them it is promised\nthat they shall know by their own experience hereafter the bliss which\nIasion even here obtained. It was, I think, in this spirit and this\nbelief that the Athenians in old time called their dead \u0394\u03b7\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9\n\u2018Demeter\u2019s folk[1454]\u2019; for the popular belief in the condescension\nof the Mistress, great and reverend goddess though she was, was so\nfirmly rooted, it would seem, that even to this day the folk-stories,\nas we have seen, still tell how the \u2018Mistress of the earth and of the\nsea,\u2019 she whom men still call Despoina and reverence for her love\nof righteousness and for her stern punishment of iniquity, has yet\nadmitted brave heroes to her embrace in the mountain-cavern where, as\nof old in Arcady, she still dwells[1455].\n\nNor did the cults of Demeter and Kore monopolise these hopes and\nbeliefs. In the religious drama of Aphrodite and Adonis, in the\nSabazian mysteries, in the holiest rites of Dionysus, in the wild\nworship of Cybele, the same thought seems ever to recur. It matters\nlittle whether these gods and their rites were foreign or Hellenic in\norigin. If they were not native, at least they were soon naturalised,\nand that for the simple reason that they satisfied the religious\ncravings of the Greek race. The essential spirit of their worship,\nwhatever the accidents of form and expression, was the spirit of the\nold Pelasgian worship of Demeter; and therefore, though Dionysus may\nhave been an immigrant from northern barbarous peoples, the Greeks did\nnot hesitate to give him room and honour beside Demeter in the very\nsanctuary of Eleusis. Similar, we may well believe, was the lot of\nother foreign gods and rites. Whencesoever derived, they owed their\nreception in Greece to the fact that their character appealed to\ncertain native religious instincts of the Greek folk. Once transplanted\nto Hellenic soil, they were soon completely Hellenized; those elements\nwhich were foreign or distasteful to Greek religion were quickly\neradicated or of themselves faded into oblivion, while all that\naccorded with the Hellenic spirit throve into fuller perfection; for\nthe character of a deity and of a cult depends ultimately upon the\ncharacter of the worshippers.\n\nIt is fair therefore to treat of Aphrodite as of a genuinely Greek\ndeity; for, though she may have entered Greece from Eastern lands,\ndoubtless long before the Homeric age her worship no less than her\npersonality was permeated with the spirit of genuinely Greek religion.\nToo well known to need re-telling here is the story of how--to use the\nwords of Theocritus once more--\u2018the beautiful Cytherea was brought by\nAdonis, as he pastured his flock upon the mountain-side, so far beyond\nthe verge of frenzy, that not even in his death doth she put him from\nher bosom[1456].\u2019 Such was the plot of one of the most famous religious\ndramas of old time. And what was its moral for those who had ears to\nhear? Surely that the beloved of the gods may hope for wedlock with\nthem in death.\n\nIt was certainly in this sense that Clement of Alexandria understood\ncertain other mysteries of Aphrodite, though, needless to say, he\nputs upon them the most obscene construction. After relating in\nterms unnecessarily disgusting the legend of how by the very act of\nUranus\u2019 self-mutilation the sea became pregnant and gave birth from\namong its foam to the goddess Aphrodite, he states that \u2018in the rites\nwhich celebrate this voluptuousness of the sea, as a token of the\ngoddess\u2019 birth there are handed to those that are being initiated\ninto the lore of adultery (\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03bc\u03c5\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae\u03bd)\na lump of salt and a phallus; and they for their part present her\nwith a coin, as if they were her lovers and she their mistress (\u1f61\u03c2\n\u1f11\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af)[1457].\u2019 Thus Clement; but those who are willing\nto see in the mysteries of the Greek religion something more than\norganised sensuality will do well to reflect whether that which\nClement calls \u2018being initiated into the lore of adultery\u2019 was not\nreally an initiation into those hopes of marriage with the gods of\nwhich we have already found evidence in the popular religion, and\nwhether the goddess\u2019 symbolic acceptance of her worshippers as lovers\ndoes not fit in exactly with that bold conception of man\u2019s future\nbliss. The symbolism indeed, if Clement\u2019s statement is accurate, was\ncrude and even repellent, but its significance is clear; and those\nwho approached these mysteries of Aphrodite in reverent mood need not\nhave been repelled by that which modern taste would account indecent\nin the ritual. Greek feeling never erred on the side of prudery; men\nwere familiar with the _Hermae_ erected in the streets and with the\nsymbolism of the _phallus_ in religious ceremonies, and tolerated\nthe publication of literature--be it the comedy of Aristophanes or\nClement\u2019s own exhortation to the heathen--which neither as a source of\namusement nor of instruction would be tolerated now.\n\nThe particular mysteries to which Clement alludes in this passage\nseem to have been concerned with the story of Aphrodite\u2019s birth, and\nthough it is difficult to conjecture how that story can have been made\nto illustrate and to inculcate the doctrine of the marriage of men\nand gods, the information given by Clement with respect to the ritual\nmakes it clear that such was their object. But in that other rite of\nthe same goddess, that namely which celebrated the story of Adonis,\nthe whole _motif_ of the drama was the continuance of Aphrodite\u2019s love\nfor him after his death, a love so strong that it prevailed upon the\ngods of the lower world to let him return for half of every year to\nthe upper world and the arms of his mistress. Here, though expressed\nin different imagery, is the same doctrine as that which underlay the\ndrama of Eleusis. Here again is an illustration, or rather, for those\nwho were capable of religious ecstasy, a proof, of the doctrine that\nthe dead yet lived, and in that life were both in body and in soul one\nwith their gods. For \u2018thrice-beloved Adonis who even in Acheron is\nbeloved[1458]\u2019 was the type and forerunner of all those who had part in\nhis mysteries.\n\nIn another version this legend of Adonis is brought into even closer\nrelation with the Eleusinian mysteries by the introduction of\nPersephone[1459]. To her is assigned the part of a rival to Aphrodite,\nand being equally enamoured of the beautiful Adonis she is glad of his\ndeath whereby he is torn from the arms of Aphrodite in the upper world,\nand enters the chamber of the nether world where her love in turn may\nhave its will; but in the end Aphrodite descends to the house of Hades,\nand a compact is arranged between the two goddesses by which each in\nturn may possess Adonis for half the year. This version of the story is\ncruder, but its teaching is obviously the same--Adonis, the favourite\nof heaven in this life, and the precursor of all who by initiation in\nthe mysteries win heaven\u2019s favour, survives in the lower world with\nboth body and soul unimpaired by death, and is admitted to wedlock with\nthe great goddess of the dead.\n\nThe same doctrine again seems to have been the basis of certain\nmystic rites associated with Dionysus. From the speech against Neaera\nattributed to Demosthenes we learn that at Athens there was annually\ncelebrated a marriage between the wife of the chief magistrate\n(\u1f04\u03c1\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2) and Dionysus. The solemnity was reckoned among\nthings \u2018unspeakable\u2019; foreigners were not permitted to see or to\nhear anything of it; and even Athenian citizens, it seems, might not\nenter the innermost sanctuary in which the union of Dionysus with the\n\u2018queen\u2019 (\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1) was celebrated[1460]. There were however present\nand assisting in some way fourteen priestesses (\u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03af), dedicated to\nthe service of the god and bound by special vows of chastity. These\npriestesses, we are told, corresponded in number to the altars of\nDionysus[1461], and they were appointed by the archon whose wife was\nwed with Dionysus[1462]. There our actual knowledge of the facts ends;\nbut there is material enough on which to base a rational surmise. The\ncorrespondence between the number of priestesses bound by vows of\npurity and the number of the altars suggests that in this custom is to\nbe sought a relic of human sacrifice. The selection of the priestesses\nby the magistrate who held the title of \u2018king\u2019 suggests that in bygone\ntimes it had been the duty of the king, as being also chief priest, to\nselect fourteen virgins who should be sacrificed on Dionysus\u2019 altars\nand thereby sent to him as wives. Subsequently maybe, as humanity\ngradually mitigated the wilder rites of religion, the number of victims\nwas reduced to one; and later still the human sacrifice was altogether\nabolished, and, instead of sending to Dionysus his wife by the road\nof death, the still pious but now more humane worshippers of the god\ncontented themselves with a symbolic marriage between him and the wife\nof their chief magistrate.\n\nThe conception of human sacrifice as a means of sending a messenger\nfrom this world to some power above, which receives clear expression in\nthat modern story from Santorini which I have narrated in an earlier\nchapter[1463], was, I have there argued, known also to the ancient\nGreeks; and the same means of communication may equally well have been\nemployed for the despatch of a human wife to some god. Plutarch appears\nto have been actually familiar with this idea. In a passage in which\nhe is attempting to vindicate the purity and goodness of the gods and,\nit must be added withal, their aloofness from human affairs, he claims\nthat all the religious rites and means of communion are concerned, not\nwith the great gods (\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af), but with lesser deities (\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2) who\nare of varying character, some good, others evil, and that the rites\nalso vary accordingly. \u201cAs regards the mysteries,\u201d he says, \u201cwherein\nare given the greatest manifestations or representations (\u1f10\u03bc\u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2) of the truth concerning \u2018daemons,\u2019 let my lips be reverently\nsealed, as Herodotus has it\u201d; but the wilder orgies of religion, he\nargues, are to be set down as a means of appeasing evil \u2018daemons\u2019 and\nof averting their wrath; the human sacrifices of old time, for example,\nwere not demanded nor accepted by gods, but were performed to satisfy\neither the vindictive anger of cruel and tormenting \u2018daemons,\u2019 or in\nsome cases \u201cthe wild and despotic passions (\u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2) of \u2018daemons\u2019 who\ncould not and would not have carnal intercourse with carnal beings.\nJust as Heracles besieged Oechalia to win a girl, so these strong and\nviolent \u2018daemons,\u2019 demanding a human soul that is shut up within a\nbody, and being unable to have bodily intercourse therewith, bring\npestilences and famines upon cities and stir up wars and tumults,\nuntil they get and enjoy the object of their love.\u201d And reversely,\nhe continues, some \u2018daemons\u2019 have punished with death men who have\nforced their love upon them; and he refers to the story of a man who\nviolated a nymph and was found afterwards with his head severed from\nhis body[1464]. The whole passage betrays clearly enough what was the\npopular belief which Plutarch here set himself so to explain as to\nsafeguard the goodness of the gods; but perhaps the end of it is the\nmost significant of all. Plutarch forgets that a nymph, if she is a\n\u2018daemon,\u2019 is by his own hypothesis incapable of bodily intercourse; in\nthis case then his attempted explanation is not even logically sound,\nand his conception of a purely spiritual \u2018daemon\u2019 is a failure; but at\nthe same time, save for this invention, he is following the popular\nbelief of both ancient and modern Greece that carnal intercourse\nbetween man and nymph is possible but is fraught with grave peril to\nthe man[1465]. It is impossible then to doubt that in the earlier part\nof the passage he was explaining away a popular belief by means of\nthe same hypothesis. He himself would hold that spiritual \u2018daemons\u2019\ndemanded human sacrifice because they lusted after a soul or spirit\nconfined out of their reach in a body until death severed it therefrom;\nbut the popular belief, which he is at pains to emend, was that\ncorporeal gods demanded human sacrifice because they lusted after the\nperson who, by death, would be sent, body and soul, to be wed with them.\n\nThere is good reason then to suppose that in old time death may have\nbeen even inflicted as the means of effecting wedlock between men and\ngods; and that the mystic rite of union between Dionysus and the wife\nof the Athenian magistrate was based on the same fundamental idea as\nthe mysteries of Demeter and Persephone or of Aphrodite. Though in this\ninstance, when once human sacrifice had been given up, all suggestion\nof death was, so far as we know, removed from the solemnity, yet the\nrepetition year by year of a ceremony of marriage between the god and\na mortal woman representing his worshippers might still keep bright\nin their minds those \u2018happier hopes\u2019 of the like bliss laid up for\nthemselves hereafter.\n\nThis particular rite escaped the notice, or at any rate the malice,\nof Clement; but Dionysus does not for all that go unscathed. Clement\nfastens upon a legend concerning him, which, however widely ancient\nGreek feeling in the matter of sex differed from modern, cannot but\nhave seemed to some of the ancients[1466] themselves to be a reproach\nand stain upon the honour of their god. The story of Dionysus and\nProsymnus, as told by Clement[1467], must be taken as read. But those\nwho will investigate it for themselves will see that the same idea of\ndeath being followed by close intercourse with the gods is present\nthere also. That this was the inner meaning of the peculiarly offensive\nstory is shown by a curious comment of Heraclitus upon it, which\nClement quotes--\u03c9\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5 \u1f08\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2[1468], \u2018Hades and Dionysus\nare one\u2019; whence it follows that union with Dionysus is a synonym for\nthat \u2018marriage with Hades\u2019 which elsewhere, in both ancient and modern\ntimes, is a common presentment of death.\n\nAgain in the Sabazian mysteries, which some connect with Dionysus and\nothers with Zeus, the little that is known of the ritual favours the\nview that here also the _motif_ was the marriage of the deity with his\nworshippers. According to Clement[1469], the subject-matter of these\nmysteries was a story that Zeus, having become by Demeter the father\nof Persephone, seduced in turn his own daughter, having as a means to\nthat end transformed himself into a snake. That story, it may safely be\nsaid, is presented by Clement in its worst light; but the statement,\nthat in the ritual the deity was represented by a snake, obtains some\ncorroboration from Theophrastus, who says of the superstitious man,\nthat if he see a red snake in his house he will invoke Sabazius[1470].\nNow the token of these mysteries for those who were being initiated\nin them was, according to Clement[1471] again, \u2018the god pressed to\nthe bosom\u2019 (\u1f41 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2); which phrase he explains by saying\nthat the god was represented as a snake, which was passed under the\nclothing and drawn over the bosom of the initiated \u2018as a proof of the\nincontinence of Zeus.\u2019 Clearly then the act of initiation was the\nsymbolic wedding of the worshipper with the deity worshipped; and it is\nprobable that the union which was symbolized in this life was expected\nto be realised in the next.\n\nFinally in the orgiastic worship of Cybele the same religious doctrine\nis revealed. Here to Attis seems to be assigned the same part as to\nAdonis in the mysteries of Aphrodite. He is the beloved of the goddess;\nhe is lost and mourned for as dead; he is restored again from the\ngrave to the goddess who loved him. And in all this he appears to be\nthe representative of all Cybele\u2019s worshippers; for the ritual of\ninitiation into her rites, if once again we may avail ourselves of\nClement\u2019s statements, is strongly imbued with the idea of marriage\nbetween the goddess and her worshipper. The several acts or stages of\ninitiation are summarised in four phrases: \u2018I ate out of the drum; I\ndrank out of the cymbal; I carried the sacred vessel; I entered privily\nthe bed-chamber--\u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f14\u03c6\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f10\u03ba \u03ba\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f14\u03c0\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u00b7\n\u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd[1472]. In the passage from which these phrases\nare culled there appears to be a certain confusion between the rites\nof Cybele and those of Demeter; but the fact that Clement shortly\nafterwards gives another formulary of Demeter\u2019s ritual is sufficient\nproof that he meant this present formulary, as indeed the mention of\nkettle-drum and cymbal[1473] suggests, to apply to the mysteries of\nCybele[1474]. It appears then that the final act or stage of initiation\nconsisted in the secret admission of the worshipper to the bed-chamber\nof the goddess. Such ritual can have borne only one interpretation. It\nclearly constituted a promise of wedded union between the initiated\nand their deity. Viewed in this light even the emasculation of the\npriests of Cybele may more readily be understood; it may have been the\nconsecration of their virility to the service of the goddess, a final\nand convincing pledge of celibacy in this life, in return for which\nthey aspired to be blest by wedlock with their goddess hereafter.\n\nThe mention of the goddess\u2019 bed-chamber in the above passage is of\nconsiderable interest. The \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2 (or \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c2) in relation to a temple\nmeant the same thing as it often meant in relation to an ordinary\nhouse, an inner room or recess screened off, and in particular a\nbridal chamber. Such provision for the physical comfort of the deity\nwas probably not rare. Pausanias tells us that on the right of\nthe vestibule in the Argive Heraeum there was a couch (\u03ba\u03bb\u03af\u03bd\u03b7) for\nHera[1475], and he seems to speak of it as if it were a common enough\npiece of temple furniture. So too at Phlya in Attica, where were held\nthe very ancient mystic rites \u2018of her who is called the Great,\u2019 there\nwas a bridal chamber (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c2), where, it has rightly been argued, there\n\u2018must have been enacted a mimetic marriage[1476].\u2019 Again Clement of\nAlexandria speaks of a \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2 of Athena in the Parthenon, and makes\nit quite clear by the story which he relates that he understood the\nword in the sense of bed-chamber. The story is also for other reasons\nworth recalling, because it shows how the religious conception of\nmarriage between men and gods was readily extended to the worship of\nother deities than those whose mysteries we have sought to unravel,\nand at the same time furnishes the only case known to me in which\nthat mystic belief was prostituted to the base uses of flattery. The\noccasion was the reception accorded by the Athenians to Demetrius\nPoliorcetes. Not content with hailing him as a god in name, they went\nso far in their mean-spirited subjection as to set up a temple, at\nthe place where he dismounted from his horse on entering their city,\nto Demetrius the Descender (\u039a\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03b2\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2)[1477], while on every side\naltars were erected to him. But their grossest piece of flattery was\na master-piece of grotesque impiety, and met with a fitting reward. A\nmarriage was arranged between him (the most notorious profligate of his\nage) and Athena. \u2018He however,\u2019 we are told, \u2018disdained the goddess,\nbeing unable to embrace the statue, but took with him to the Acropolis\nthe courtesan Lamia, and polluted the bed-chamber of Athena, exhibiting\nto the old virgin the postures of the young courtesan[1478].\u2019 Even that\ncontemptuous response to the Athenians\u2019 flattery did not abash them,\nbut, finding that he did not favour their acknowledged deity, they\ndetermined to deify his acknowledged favourite, and erected a temple to\nLamia Aphrodite[1479].\n\nBut such travesties of holy things were rare; and this one notorious\ncase excited the contempt alike of the man[1480] to whom the flattery\nwas paid and of all posterity--a contempt which teaches, hardly less\nclearly than the indignation excited a century earlier by the supposed\nprofanation of the mysteries, in what reverence and high esteem the\nidea of marriage between men and gods was generally held.\n\nEven Lucian, in whom reverence was a less pronounced characteristic\nthan humour, condemns seriously enough a parody of the mysteries\nof Eleusis which occurred in his own day; and his account of it at\nthe same time shows once more that the marriage of men and gods was\nthe very essence of the mysteries. The impostor Alexander, he says,\ninstituted rites with carrying of torches (\u03b4\u1fb3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03af\u03b1) and exposition\nof the sacred ceremonies (\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b1) lasting for three days. \u201cOn\nthe first there was a proclamation, as at Athens, as follows: \u2018If\nany atheist, Christian, or Epicurean hath come to spy upon the holy\nrites, let him begone, and let the faithful be initiated with heaven\u2019s\nblessing.\u2019 Then first of all there was an expulsion of intruders.\nAlexander himself led the way, crying \u2018Out with Christians,\u2019 and the\nwhole multitude shouted in answer \u2018Out with Epicureans.\u2019 Then was\nenacted the story of Leto in child-bed and the birth of Apollo, and his\nmarriage with Coronis and the birth of Asclepius; and on the second day\nthe manifestation of Glycon and the god\u2019s birth[1481]. And on the third\nday was the wedding of Podalirius and Alexander\u2019s mother; this was\ncalled the Torch-day, for torches were burnt. And finally there was the\nlove of Selene and Alexander, and the birth of his daughter now married\nto Rutilianus[1482]. Our Endymion-Alexander was now torch-bearer and\nexponent of the rites. And he lay as it were sleeping in the view of\nall, and there came down to him from the roof--as it were Selene from\nheaven--a certain Rutilia, a very beautiful woman, the wife of one of\nCaesar\u2019s household-officers, who was really in love with Alexander\nand was loved by him, and she kissed the rascal\u2019s eyes and embraced\nhim in the view of all, and, if there had not been so many torches,\nworse would perhaps have followed (\u03c4\u03ac\u03c7\u03b1 \u1f04\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf)[1483].\u201d\n\nThe inferences which may be drawn from this narrative are, first, that\nthe mysteries in general, while reproducing in some dramatic form the\nwhole story of the deities concerned, culminated in the representation\nof a mystic marriage between men and gods; (the birth of a child was\nalso represented or announced in this parody, as we know that it\nwas at Eleusis[1484], but it had, I am inclined to think, no mystic\nsignificance otherwise than as proof of the consummation of that\nmarriage;) and, secondly, that the wild charges of indecency brought by\nearly Christian writers against the mysteries are baseless; for Lucian\ncondemns a much lesser license in this parody than that which they\nattributed to the genuine rites.\n\nThus our examination of the mysteries, so far as they are known to us,\ntends to prove that the doctrines revealed in them to the initiated\nwere simply a development of certain vaguer popular ideas which have\nbeen prevalent among the Greek folk from the classical age down to our\nown day. The people entertained hopes that this physical life would\ncontinue in a similar form after death; the mysteries gave definite\nassurance of that immortality by exhibiting to the initiated Persephone\nor Adonis or Attis restored from the lower world in bodily form; and\nthough that exhibition was in fact merely a dramatic representation,\nyet to the eyes of religious ecstasy it seemed just as much a living\nreality as does the risen Christ in the modern celebration of Easter.\nThe people again were wont to think and to speak of death as a marriage\ninto the lower world; the mysteries showed to the initiated certain\nrepresentatives of mankind who by death, or even in life, had been\nadmitted to the felicity of wedlock with deities, and thereby confirmed\nthe faithful in their happier hopes of being in like manner themselves\ngod-beloved and of sharing the life of gods.\n\nSince then there is good reason to believe that this was in effect the\nsecret teaching of the mysteries, it would naturally be expected that\nhuman marriage should have been reckoned as it were a foretaste of\nthat union with the divine which was promised hereafter, and also that\ndeath should have been counted the hour of its approaching fulfilment;\nin other words, if my view of the mysteries is correct, it would\nalmost inevitably follow that the mysteries should have been brought\ninto close association both with weddings and with funerals. This\nexpectation is confirmed by the facts.\n\nAn ordinary wedding was treated as something akin to initiation into\nthe mysteries. An inscription of Cos[1485], relating to the appointment\nof priestesses of Demeter, mentions among other duties certain services\non the occasion of weddings; and the brides, who are the recipients\nof these services, are divided into two classes, \u03b1\u1f31 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 and \u03b1\u1f31\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03b5\u03c5\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, the maidens who, are being \u2018initiated,\u2019 and the widows\nwho are being married again; a woman\u2019s first marriage in fact is called\nby a religious document her initiation, and Demeter\u2019s priestesses\nare charged therewith. Nor was this usage or idea confined to Cos;\nPlutarch speaks of services rendered by the priestess of Demeter in\nthe solemnisation of matrimony as part of an \u2018ancestral rite[1486]\u2019;\nwhile the term \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 was commonly used both of the mystic rites and of\nmarriage, and \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 might denote the newly-wed[1487].\n\nThe same thought seems also to have inspired another custom\nassociated with marriage. The newly-wed, we hear, sometimes attended\na representation of the marriage of Zeus and Hera[1488], an \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2\n\u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 which formed the subject of mystic drama or legend all over\nGreece[1489]. The widely extended cults of Hera under the titles of\nMaiden (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2) and of Bride (\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1 or \u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03b5\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7) appear\nto have been closely interwoven; indeed for a full appreciation of the\nGreek conception of the goddess they must be treated as complementary.\nThey are well interpreted by Farnell. Rejecting the theory of physical\nsymbolism, he suggests \u2018a more human explanation. Hera was essentially\nthe goddess of women, and the life of women was reflected in her;\ntheir maidenhood and marriage were solemnised by the cults of Hera\n\u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 and Hera \u03a4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1 or \u039d\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03b5\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7, and the very rare worship of\nHera \u03a7\u03ae\u03c1\u03b1 might allude to the not infrequent custom of divorce and\nseparation[1490].\u2019 With, Hera the Widow we are not here concerned,\nbut only with the higher conceptions of Zeus and Hera as expressed in\nthe representation of the \u2018sacred marriage\u2019; the bride and bridegroom\nwho looked upon that saw in it, we may be sure, not a symbolical\nrepresentation of the seasons and the productive powers of the earth,\nbut rather the divine prototype of human marriage. It reminded them\nthat deities, like mortals, were married and given in marriage, and it\nimparted to their wedding a sacramental character, making it at once a\nforetaste and a gage of that close communion with the gods which, when\ndeath the dividing line between mortals and immortals should once be\npassed, awaited the blessed among mankind.\n\nOther small points too suggest the same trend of thought. The\npreliminaries of a wedding often comprised a sacrifice to Zeus\nTeleios and Hera Teleia[1491], and were called \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 being the\n\u2018preliminaries of initiation\u2019 into that mystery, of which the\nsacred marriage, enacted before the now wedded pair, was the full\nrevelation[1492]. Again these preliminaries always included the\nsolemn ablution[1493] of which I have spoken above, and in this\nresembled the preparations for admittance to the mysteries. Moreover\nan instance is recorded in which this ablution was itself invested\nwith the significance of a wedding between the human and the divine.\nThe maidens of the Troad before marriage were wont to unrobe and bathe\nthemselves in the Scamander; and the prayer which they made to the\nriver-god, whose bed they entered, was, \u2018Receive thou, Scamander, my\nvirginity[1494].\u2019 Finally the first night on which the wedded pair came\ntogether was known as the \u2018mystic night\u2019 (\u03bd\u1f7a\u03be \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae)[1495], a term\nnot a little suggestive of the great night of Demeter\u2019s mysteries when\nto the eyes of the initiated was displayed the secret proof and promise\nof wedlock between men and gods hereafter. In short the ceremonies\nof a wedding by one means or another proclaimed it to be a form of\ninitiation, and the estate of marriage was to the Greeks, as our\nprayer-book calls it, \u2018an excellent mystery.\u2019\n\nHence naturally followed the belief that the unmarried and the\nuninitiated shared the same fate in the future life. One conception\nof the punishment of the uninitiated was, according to Plato[1496],\nthat they should carry water in a sieve to a broken jar; and this, as\nis well known, was also the lot of the Danaids in the nether world.\nCommenting on these facts Dr Frazer says, \u2018It is possible that the\noriginal reason why the Danaids were believed to be condemned to this\npunishment in hell was not so much that they murdered, as that they did\nnot marry, the sons of Aegyptus. According to one tradition indeed they\nafterwards married other husbands (Paus. III. 12. 2); but according\nto another legend they were murdered by Lynceus, apparently before\nmarriage (Schol. on Euripides, _Hecuba_, 886). They may therefore have\nbeen chosen as types of unmarried women, and their punishment need\nnot have been peculiar to them but may have been the one supposed to\nawait all unmarried persons in the nether world[1497].\u2019 A passage of\nLucian, which appears to have been overlooked in this connexion[1498],\nconverts the view of the Danaids which Dr Frazer considers possible\ninto a practical certainty. The passage in point forms the conclusion\nof that dialogue in which Poseidon with the aid of Triton plots and\ncarries out the rape of Amymone, the Danaid. She has just been seized\nand is protesting against her abduction and threatening to call her\nfather, when Triton intervenes: \u2018Keep quiet, Amymone,\u2019 he says, \u2018it\nis Poseidon.\u2019 And the girl rejoins, \u2018Oh, Poseidon you call him, do\nyou?\u2019 and then turning to her ravisher, \u2018What do you mean, sirrah, by\nhandling me so roughly, and dragging me down into the sea? I shall\ngo under and be drowned, miserable girl.\u2019 And Poseidon answers, \u2018Do\nnot be frightened, you shall come to no harm; no, I will strike the\nrock here, near where the waves break, with my trident, and will let\na spring burst up which shall bear your name, and you yourself shall\nbe blessed and, unlike your sisters, shall not carry water when you\nare dead (\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u1f7a \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u1f14\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c6\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u1f51\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1)[1499].\u2019 The whole point of Poseidon\u2019s answer clearly\ndepends upon the existence of a well-known belief that the Danaids were\npunished hereafter for remaining unmarried and that the punishment took\nthe form of vainly fetching water for that bridal bath which was a\nnecessary preliminary to a wedding; Amymone shall have a very thorough\nbridal bath, and the spring that bears her name shall be a monument\nof it, while she herself shall be \u2018blessed\u2019 by wedlock with Poseidon;\nthus shall she escape the fate of the unmarried. Clearly then there was\nno distinction between the uninitiated and the unmarried; both alike\nwere doomed vainly to fetch water for those ablutions which preceded\ninitiation into the mysteries or into matrimony; and once again the\nconception of marriage as a mystic and sacramental rite akin to the\nrites of Eleusis is clearly revealed.\n\nIt may further be noted here that this idea of the punishment of the\nunmarried completely explains the custom, on which I have already\ntouched, of erecting a water-pitcher (\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2) over the grave of\nunmarried persons. This intimated, according to Eustathius[1500], that\nthe person there buried had never taken the bath which both bride and\nbridegroom were wont to take before marriage. But this must not be\ntaken to mean that the water-pitcher was erected as a symbol of the\npunishment which the dead person was supposed to be undergoing; this\nwas not an idea which his relatives and friends, even if they had held\nit, would have wished to blazon abroad. One might as soon expect to\nfind depicted on a modern tombstone the worm that dieth not and the\nfire that is not quenched. No; the water-pitcher was not a symbol, it\nwas an instrument; for my part I have little faith in the existence\nof any symbols in popular religion which are not in origin at least\ninstruments; and the purpose to which this instrument was put was to\nsupply the dead person with that wedding-bath which he had not taken\nin life, and without which he would vainly strive in the under-world\nto prepare himself for divine wedlock. The water-pitcher was not\ncommemorative, but preventive, of future punishment. Its erection was\nnot a warning to the living, but a service to the dead.\n\nThus then the evidence for the intimate association of the mysteries,\nor of the main idea which runs through them, with human weddings is\ncomplete and, I hope, convincing; and the custom of the water-pitcher,\nwhich concludes it, fitly introduces at the same time the evidence\nfor the association of the same idea with funerals. This is equally\nplentiful. The vague conception of death as a wedding, which as I have\nshown was elaborated in the mysteries, has of course already been\nexemplified in all those passages of ancient literature and modern\nfolk-songs which I have adduced, and I have found in it also the motive\nfor the assimilation of funeral-customs to the customs of marriage.\nBut the evidence that the actual doctrines of the mysteries, in which\nmore definite expression was given to that vague idea, were closely\nassociated with death and funeral-custom is to be found rather in\nepitaphs and sepulchral monuments.\nThe tone of the epitaphs may be sufficiently illustrated by a single\ncouplet:\n\n    \u039f\u1f50\u03ba \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u1f7c\u03bd \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bb\u03ad\u03c7\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03b2\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f04\u03c6\u03c5\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n      \u0393\u03cc\u03c1\u03b3\u03b9\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03a6\u03b5\u03c1\u03c3\u03b5\u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd[1501].\n\n\u2018I, Gorgippus, lived not to look upon a bridal bed ere I went down\nto the chamber of bright-haired Persephone which none may escape.\u2019\nThere is naturally here a note of lament, as befits any epitaph, and\nmore especially that of one who dies young and unmarried; but none\nthe less there is an anticipation--justified, we may think, if we\nwill, by some ceremony of bridal ablution performed for the dead man\nby his friends--that his death is a wedding with the goddess of the\nunder-world; and indeed the phrase \u03a6\u03b5\u03c1\u03c3\u03b5\u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, \u2018the bridal\nchamber of Persephone,\u2019 recurs with some frequency in this class of\nepitaphs[1502].\n\nConsidered collectively, such epitaphs would suggest a distinctly\noffensive conception of Persephone; but in each taken separately, as\nit was composed, it will be allowed, I think, that if there is supreme\naudacity, there is equal sublimity. It is just these qualities which\ngive pungency to a blasphemous parody of such epitaphs, in which the\nwit of Ausonius exposes the worst possible aspect of a religious\nconception which to the pure-minded was wholly pure. My apology for\nquoting lines which I will not translate must be the fact that a\ncaricature is often no less instructive than a true portrait. The mock\nepitaph concludes as follows:\n\n    Sed neque functorum socius miscebere vulgo\n      Nec metues Stygios flebilis umbra lacus:\n    Verum aut Persephonae Cinyreius ibis Adonis,\n      Aut Jovis Elysii tu catamitus eris[1503].\n\nAusonius in jest bears an unpleasant resemblance to Clement in earnest;\nboth perverted to their uttermost a doctrine which commanded nothing\nbut reverence from faithful participants in the mysteries.\n\nAkin to these epitaphs are certain tablets which recently have been\nfully discussed by Miss Jane Harrison[1504], and have been shown to\nbe of Orphic origin. They were buried with the dead, and for this\nreason were more outspoken in their references to the mystic doctrines\nthan was permissible in epitaphs exposed to the vulgar gaze. The most\ncomplete of these tablets is one which was found near Sybaris, and,\nwith the exception of the last sentence of all, the inscription is in\nhexameter verse. Miss Harrison, to whose work I am wholly indebted for\nthis valuable evidence, translates as follows[1505]:\n\n    \u2018Out of the pure I come, Pure Queen of Them Below,\n    Eukles and Eubouleus and the other Gods immortal.\n    For I also avow me that I am of your blessed race,\n    But Fate laid me low and the other Gods immortal\n                              ... starflung thunderbolt.\n    I have flown out of the sorrowful weary Wheel.\n    I have passed with eager feet to the Circle desired.\n    I have sunk beneath the bosom of Despoina, Queen of the Underworld.\n    I have passed with eager feet from the Circle desired.\n    Happy and Blessed One, thou shalt be God instead of mortal.\n            A kid I have fallen into milk.\u2019\n\nThe gist of the document which the dead man takes with him is then\nbriefly this. He claims to have been pure originally and of the same\nrace as his gods; but as a man he was mortal and exposed to death,\nand in this respect differed from his gods. He states however that he\nhas performed certain ritual acts which entitle him to be re-admitted\nto the pure fellowship of the gods now that death is passed. And the\nanswer comes, \u2018Thou shalt be God instead of mortal.\u2019\n\nNow here I wish to consider one only of these ritual acts--that one of\nwhich the meaning is clearest--\u0394\u03b5\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd \u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, which means, if I may give my own rendering, \u2018I was admitted\nto the embrace of Despoina, Queen of the under-world.\u2019 The phrase\nis one which repeats the idea which we have already seen expressed\nin the formulary of Cybele\u2019s rites, \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd[1506], \u2018I\nwas privily admitted to the bridal chamber,\u2019 and in the token of the\nSabazian mysteries, \u1f41 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2[1507], \u2018the god pressed to\nthe bosom\u2019; and Lucian\u2019s final phrase in his account of Alexander\u2019s\nmock-mysteries shows a kindred phrase, \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5[1508], as an\neuphemism of the same kind[1509]. The Orphic therefore no less than\nothers based his claim to future happiness on the fact that he had\nperformed a ritual act, of the nature of a sacrament, which constituted\na pledge that the wedlock between him and his goddess foreshadowed here\nshould be consummated hereafter.\n\nEven more abundant evidence is furnished by sepulchral monuments;\nand in support of my views I cannot do better than quote two high\nauthorities who coincide in their verdict upon the meaning of the\nscenes represented. In reference to those scenes \u2018in which death\nis conceived in the guise of a marriage\u2019 Furtw\u00e4ngler writes: \u2018The\nmonuments belonging to this class are extraordinarily numerous, and\nexhibit very different methods of treating the idea which they carry\nout. A relief upon a sarcophagus from the Villa Borghese shows the God\nof the dead in the act of carrying down the fair Kore to be his bride\nin the lower world. Above the steeds of his chariot, which are already\ndisappearing into the depths of the earth, flies Eros as guide. The\nbride however appears to be going only under compulsion and after some\nstruggle; the look of the bridegroom expresses sternness rather than\ngentleness; and the mother who sits with face averted seems to exclude\nall thoughts of the daughter\u2019s return. Only in the torches which the\nguide carries in his hand, in the snakes which are looking upward, and\nin the observant attitude of Hecate, can a suggestion of the return be\nfound.\n\n\u2018On another sarcophagus--from Nazzara--which represents the same\nmarriage-journey, Eros is not merely the guide of the steeds, but aids\nthe bridegroom in carrying off Kore, so that in this case the struggle\nwith death takes purely the form of a struggle with love. At the same\ntime the mother is driving along with her chariot, thereby signifying\nthe renewal of life, which is yet more clearly betokened in the\nploughman and the sower at her side.\n\n\u2018In a yet gentler spirit we see the same journey conceived in a\nvase-painting from lower Italy. Here there is a look of gentleness\non Hades\u2019 face; the bride accompanies him gladly, and even takes an\naffectionate farewell of her mother, who appears to acquiesce in her\ndeparture. In this case too Eros is flying above the horses, and is\nturned towards the lovers, while in front of him there flies a dove,\nthe bird sacred to the goddess of love. Hecate with torches guides the\nsteeds; near at hand waits Hermes to escort the procession; and above\nthe whole scene the stars are shining, as if to indicate the new life\nin the region of death.\n\n\u2018In another form, exalted to a yet higher holiness, the same marriage\nis repeated in the sphere of Dionysus-worship. Thus on a cameo in the\nVatican, Dionysus is represented driving with his bride, Ariadne, in\na brightly-decked triumphal car. Holy rapture is manifested on the\nfeatures of both, and on top of the chariot stands a Cupid directing\nit. Dionysus is arrayed in the doe-skin, and holds in his left hand\na _thyrsus_, in his right a goblet; Ariadne is carrying ears of corn\nand poppy-heads, and has her hair wreathed with vine-leaves. The car\nis drawn by Centaurs of both sexes, with torches, drinking-horns,\nand musical instruments. The idea which underlies this scene is the\nreproduction of Life out of Death; Hades has issued forth again for\na new marriage-bond with Kore in the realm of light, appearing now\nrejuvenated in the form of Dionysus, just as his bride assumes the form\nof Ariadne, and because the power of death is broken behind him, his\ncar likewise becomes a triumphal car.\n\n\u2018Just as the marriage of Zeus in the realm of light became a type for\nmen in this life, so the marriage of Hades, or of Dionysus representing\nhim, developed into a similar prototype for the dead. Since that which\nis true of Death bears directly upon the actual dead, it was quite\nnatural that gradually the process of death came to be considered in\ngeneral as a wedding with the deities of death. With this conception\ntoo harmonize those wedding-scenes which are so common and conspicuous\non funeral monuments, as well as the often-recurring scenes from the\njoyous cycle of Dionysus-myths[1510].\u2019\nTwo brief comments may be made upon this passage. First, Furtw\u00e4ngler\nclearly recognises in Dionysus a mere substitute for Hades, and thus\nconfirms my interpretation of the strange legend concerning Dionysus\nand Prosymnus[1511]. We noticed that the somewhat obscure observation\nof Heraclitus (as quoted by Clement) upon that story contained the\nwords \u2018Dionysus and Hades are one and the same\u2019; and we now see that\nin art too the same identification was made, and that the marriage of\na mortal with Dionysus was used to typify the future marriage of the\ndead with their gods. The reason for this identification seems simply\nto be that the cults in which the two gods figured, although differing\nin outward form, were felt to express one and the same idea--namely the\nconception of death as a form of marriage; and the tendency to identify\nin such cases was carried so far that the god Dionysus was even, we are\ntold, identified with the mortal Adonis[1512], presumably because the\nworship of each, as I have shown above, turned upon this one cardinal\ndoctrine.\n\nSecondly, Furtw\u00e4ngler points out that the marriage of Zeus and Hera\nrepresented for living men the same doctrine as the marriage of Hades\nand Persephone (or of Dionysus and Ariadne) represented for the dead.\nThe truth of this is well illustrated by the close resemblance between\nAristophanes\u2019 picture of Hera\u2019s wedding and those funeral monuments\nand vases which Furtw\u00e4ngler describes; for there too \u2018golden-winged\nEros held firm the reins, and drave the wedding-car of Zeus and blessed\nHera[1513].\u2019 In other words, this Olympian marriage was only one among\nseveral mystic marriages which all conveyed, though in diverse form,\nthe same lesson, that marriage was the perfection of divine life no\nless than of human life, and therefore that hereafter when men, or at\nany rate the blessed and initiated among men, should come to dwell with\ntheir gods, no bond of communion between gods and men could be perfect\nshort of the marriage-bond.\n\nIt was natural enough that the drama of Hera\u2019s wedding with Zeus should\nmost often have been chosen to be played at an ordinary wedding,\nbecause it would not obtrude thoughts of death upon a joyous event\nwith such insistence as most of the other religious legends which\nreposed upon the same fundamental doctrine; but sometimes, we know, it\nwas the priestesses of Demeter who officiated at wedding-ceremonies,\nand in those cases it cannot be doubted that it was Persephone and not\nHera who was the divine prototype of the bride, and the thought that\nher wedding was a wedding with the god of death could not have been\nexcluded. At funerals, on the other hand, the story of Zeus and Hera\nwhich was preferred at weddings owing to its less obvious allusion to\ndeath, would for that same reason have found less favour than those\nother marriage-legends in which the identity of death with marriage\nwas more clearly enunciated; and of these, owing to the exceptional\nreverence in which the Eleusinian mysteries were held, the story of\nPersephone seems to have been among the most frequent. Yet in the\npicture drawn by Aristophanes at which we have just glanced, for one\nsubtle touch which suggests the connexion of Hera\u2019s wedding with human\nweddings, there is another subtle touch which suggests its relation\nwith human death. The first is an epithet applied to Eros who drove the\nwedding-car--the epithet \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03b9\u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2, used of one who has both parents\nliving[1514]. The allusion to human weddings is clear. It was no doubt\nimperative in old time, as it still is, in Greece, that anyone who\nattended upon a bride or bridegroom, as for instance the bearer of\nwater for the bridal bath, should have both parents living; and the\nuse of the same term in reference to Eros, the attendant upon Zeus\nand Hera, marks the intimate connexion between the divine marriage\nand the marriage of living men and women. But another epithet in the\npassage conveys no less clear an allusion to the marriage of those,\nwhom men call dead, with their deities. Hera is named \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd, a word\nwhich, meaning \u2018favoured by God,\u2019 may seem strangely applied to one\nwho herself was divine[1515]. But it was selected by Aristophanes for\na good reason; by the word \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 was commonly denoted that future\nbliss which the initiated believed to consist in wedlock with their\ndeities. Like \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2, \u2018god-beloved,\u2019 the term \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd, \u2018blessed,\u2019\nwas, so to speak, a catch-word of the mysteries[1516]; and the\napplication of it to Hera in Aristophanes\u2019 ode brings the legend of\nHera\u2019s marriage into rank with those other wedding-stories whose actual\nplot hinged upon the identity of death and marriage. Thus though one\nlegend might be more appropriate in its externals to one occasion, and\nanother legend to another occasion, the ultimate and fundamental idea\nof them all was single and the same.\n\nThis view is boldly championed by the second authority whom I proposed\nto quote upon the subject of mystic marriage-scenes depicted on\nfuneral-monuments. \u2018The idea,\u2019 says Lenormant, \u2018of mystic union\nin death is frequently indicated in the scenes represented upon\n_sarcophagi_ and painted vases. But for the most part the idea is\nexpressed there only in an allusive manner, which depends upon the\nidentification which this marriage-scene established between the dead\nperson and the deity, by means of such subjects as the carrying off\nof Cephalus by Aurora, or Orithyia by Boreas, or the love-story of\nAphrodite and Adonis[1517].\u2019 \u2018Thus,\u2019 he explains, \u2018a girl carried\noff (by death) from her parents was simply a bride betrothed to the\ninfernal god, and was identified with Demeter\u2019s maiden daughter, the\nvictim of the passion and violence of Hades; a young man cut off by an\nearly fate figured as the beautiful Adonis, snatched away by Persephone\nfrom the love of Aphrodite, and brought, in spite of himself, to the\nbed of the queen of the lower world[1518].\u2019 The identification which\nLenormant sees in these several instances is an identification, I\nsuppose, not of personalities but of destinies. The popular religion\nof ancient Greece shows little trace of any pantheistic view which\nwould have contemplated the absorption of the personality of the dead\nman or woman into that of any god or goddess. Indeed the very number\nof the personally distinct deities with whom, on such an hypothesis,\nthe dead would have been identified, as well as that continuance of\nsexual difference in the future life which is postulated by the very\ndoctrine before us, precludes all thought of personal identification.\nRather it is the future destiny of the dead person which was identified\nwith the destiny of the deity or hero whose marriage was represented on\nsarcophagus or _cippus_ or commemorative vase[1519]. The lot of Kore or\nAriadne or Orithyia prefigured the lot of mortal women hereafter; the\nfortunes of Adonis or Cephalus typified those of mortal men; and all\nthe marriage-scenes alike, whatever the differences of presentation,\nrevealed the hope and the promise of wedlock hereafter between mankind\nand their deities.\n\nBut Lenormant mentions one vase-painting[1520] in which this\nfundamental doctrine is taught not by parables of mythology, but more\novertly and directly. The scene depicted is the marriage of a youth,\nwhose name, Polyetes, is in pathetic contrast with his short span of\nyears spent upon earth, with a goddess Eudaemonia (or \u2018Bliss\u2019) in the\nlower world. In this deity Lenormant sees \u2018the infernal goddess under\nan euphemistic name.\u2019 Nor could any more significant name have been\nused. It has already been pointed out that \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 was a term much\nfavoured by the initiated in the mysteries, and was openly used by them\nto denote that future bliss which secretly was understood to consist in\ndivine wedlock. Hence the scene upon this vase would at once suggest to\nthose who were familiar with the doctrines of the mysteries, that the\nyouth, being presumably of the number of the initiated, had found in\ndeath the realisation of his happy hopes and had entered into blissful\nunion with the goddess of the lower world.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo sum up briefly: we have seen alike in the literature of ancient\nGreece and in the folk-songs of modern Greece that death has commonly\nbeen conceived by the Hellenic race in the guise of a wedding; a review\nof marriage-customs and funeral-customs both ancient and modern has\nre-affirmed the constant association of death and marriage, and has\nshown how deep-rooted in the minds of the common people that idea must\nhave been which produced a deliberate assimilation of funeral-rites\nto the ceremonies of marriage. Next we investigated the connexion\nof the mysteries with the popular religion, and saw reason to hold\nthat, far from being subversive of it or alien to it, they inculcated\ndoctrines which were wholly evolved from vaguer popular ideas always\ncurrent in Greece. Finally we traced in many of those legends, on which\nthe dramatic representations of the mysteries are known to have been\nbased, a common _motif_, the idea that death is the entrance for men\ninto a blissful estate of wedded union with their deities. And this\nreligious ideal not only satisfies the condition of agreement with,\nand evolution from, those popular views in which death figured somewhat\nvaguely as a form of wedding, but also proves to be the natural and\nnecessary outcome of two religious sentiments with which earlier\nchapters have dealt; first, the ardent desire for close communion with\nthe gods, and secondly, the belief that men\u2019s bodies as well as their\nsouls survived death and dissolution; for if the body by means of its\ndisintegration rejoined the soul in the nether world, and the human\nentity was then complete, enjoying the same substantial existence,\nthe same physical no less than mental powers, which it had enjoyed in\nthe upper world, and which the immortal gods enjoyed uninterrupted by\ndeath, then, since the same rite of marriage was the consummation both\nof divine life and of human life, men\u2019s yearning for close communion\nwith their gods required for its ideal and perfect satisfaction the\nfull union of wedlock; and the sacrament which assured men of this\nconsummation was the highest development of the whole Greek religion,\nthe mysteries.\n\nSuch a sacrament and such aspirations might well have offended even\nthose Christians of early days, if such there were, who were willing to\ndeal sympathetically with paganism; that those who were its declared\nenemies, and were ready to use against it the weapons of perversion and\nvituperation, found in this conception a vulnerable point, is readily\nunderstood. It is true indeed that in the very idea which they most\nvilified there was a certain curious analogy between the new religion\nand the old. Just as paganism allowed to each man or woman individually\nthe hope of becoming the bridegroom or the bride of one of their many\ndeities, so Christianity represented the Church, the whole body of the\nfaithful collectively, as the bride of its sole deity. But the analogy\nis superficial only. The bond of feeling which united the Church with\nGod was very differently conceived from that which drew together the\npagans and their deities. The chastened \u2018charity\u2019 (\u1f00\u03b3\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7) of the\nChristians had little in common with the passionate love (\u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2) with\nwhich the Greeks of old time had dared look upon their gods. Theirs\nwas the Love that \u2018held firm the reins and drave the wedding-car of\nZeus and blessed Hera[1521]\u2019; the Love that hovered above the steeds\nof Hades and changed for Persephone the road of death into a road to\nbliss; the Love whom \u2018no immortal may escape nor any of mankind whose\nlife passeth it as a day, but whoso hath him is as one mad[1522]\u2019; and\nthe only true consummation of such love was wedlock.\n\nThis conception necessarily implied the equality of men with their gods\nin the future life; and that future equality was sometimes represented\nas no more than a return to that which was in the beginning. \u2018One is\nthe race of men with the race of gods; for one is the mother that gave\nto both our breath; yet are they sundered by powers wholly diverse, in\nthat mankind is as naught, but heaven is builded of brass that abideth\never unshaken[1523].\u2019 So sang Pindar of the past and of the present;\nbut the Orphic tablet which has been already quoted carries on the\nthought into the future:\n\n    \u2018Out of the pure I come, Pure Queen of Them Below,\n    Eukles and Eubouleus and the other Gods immortal.\n    For I also avow me that I am of your blessed race,\n    But Fate laid me low....\u2019\n\nSo far with Pindar. But the dead man\u2019s claims do not end there: \u2018I was\nadmitted to the embrace of Despoina, Queen of the Underworld\u2019; already\nhad he received a foretaste of that divine wedlock which implied\nequality with the gods; and so there comes the answer, \u2018Happy and\nBlessed One, thou shalt be God instead of mortal.\u2019\n\nThis idea commended itself even to thinkers who did not believe in\nbodily survival after death. Plato, in the _Phaedo_, where above all\nthings is taught the perishable nature of the body and the immortality\nof the soul alone, yet avails himself of the belief that the pure among\nmankind shall attain even to godhead hereafter. To him the pure are\nnot the initiated indeed, but the earnest strivers after wisdom. In\nhis theory of retributive metempsychosis he surmises that those who\nhave followed the lusts of the flesh shall hereafter enter the ranks of\nasses and other lustful beasts; that those who have wrought violence\nshall enter the ranks of wolves and hawks and kites; that those who\nhave practised what is popularly accounted virtue, but without true\nunderstanding, shall enter the ranks of harmless and social creatures,\nbees, wasps, and ants, or even the ranks of men once more. \u2018But\ninto the ranks of gods none may enter without having followed after\nwisdom and so departing hence wholly pure--none save the lover of\nknowledge[1524].\u2019 What precise meaning Plato attached to his phrase\n\u2018to enter the ranks\u2019 (\u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b4\u03cd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 or \u1f00\u03c6\u03b9\u03ba\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9), to which\nhe adheres throughout the passage, is a question which agitated the\nNeoplatonists[1525] somewhat needlessly. The phrase is intended either\nliterally throughout or allegorically throughout. If it be allegorical,\nthe meaning must be that all human souls shall enter again into human\nbodies, but that they shall start this new phase of existence with the\nqualities of lust, violence, respectability, or real virtue and purity,\nacquired in the previous life--merely resembling, as nearly as men may,\nasses, wolves, bees, or gods. Now as regards the first three classes,\nthis allegorical interpretation, if a little forced, is feasible\nenough; but what of the fourth class? Shall the soul which has attained\npurity, the very negation of fleshliness in Plato\u2019s view, suffer\nre-incarnation and struggle once more against the flesh? Surely the\nallegorical explanation is at once condemned. The phrase was intended\nliterally[1526]. Plato signified the re-incarnation of the lustful,\nthe violent, and the merely respectable, in the forms of animals of\nlike character, and he signified--I must not say the re-incarnation,\nfor Plato\u2019s gods were spiritual and not carnal--but the regeneration\nof the pure in the form of gods. And in the same spirit Plutarch too\ncontemplated the possibility of some men\u2019s souls becoming first heroes,\nand from heroes rising to the rank of \u2018daemons,\u2019 and from \u2018daemons\u2019\ncoming to share, albeit but rarely, in real godhead[1527].\n\nThus even the highest aspirations of the most spiritually-minded of\npagan thinkers owed much to the purely popular religion. The Orphic\ntablet links up the popular conception of death as a wedding with the\nPlatonic conception of the deification of the soul. \u2018I was admitted to\nthe embrace of Despoina, Queen of the underworld\u2019: \u2018Happy and Blessed\nOne, thou shalt be God instead of mortal.\u2019\n\nBut if Plato, even in his conception of a purely spiritual life\nhereafter, owed something to the popular religion, he drew upon it\nfar more freely in his conception of Love. In the _Symposium_ one\nspeech after another culminates in the assertion of that belief which\nfound its highest expression in the mysteries. \u2018So then I say,\u2019 says\nPhaedrus, \u2018that Love is the most venerable of the gods, the most\nworthy of honour, the most powerful to grant virtue and blessedness\nunto mankind both in life and after death[1528].\u2019 And in the same tone\ntoo Eryximachus: \u2018He it is that wields the mightiest power and is\nthe source for us of all blessedness and of our power to have loving\nfellowship both with one another and with the gods that are stronger\nthan we[1529].\u2019 And finally Aristophanes: It is Love, \u2018who in this\npresent life gives us most joys by drawing like unto like, and for our\nhereafter displays hopes most high, if we for our part display piety\ntowards the gods, that he will restore us to our erstwhile nature and\nwill heal us and will make us happy and blessed[1530].\u2019\n\nThis is not Platonic philosophy but popular religion. Phrase after\nphrase reveals the origin of this conception of Love. The hopes most\nhigh were the hopes held forth by the mysteries; the blessedness and\nthe loving fellowship with gods were the fulfilment of those hopes.\nIn such language did men ever hint at the joys to which their mystic\nsacraments gave access. And Plato here ventures yet further. The author\nof those high hopes, the founder of that blessedness, he proclaims, is\nnone other than Love--Love that appealed not to the soul only of the\ninitiated, but to the whole man, both soul and body--Love that meant\nnot only the yearning after wisdom and holiness and spiritual equality\nwith the gods, but that same passion which drew together man and woman,\ngod and goddess--the passion of mankind for their deities, fed in this\nlife by manifold means of communion and even by sacramental union,\nsatisfied hereafter in the full fruition of wedded bliss.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1358] _Il._ XI. 241.\n\n[1359] Hes. _W. and D._ 116.\n\n[1360] e.g. Hom. _Il._ XVI. 454 and 672; XIV. 231.\n\n[1361] Hes. _Theog._ 212, 756.\n\n[1362] See Preller, _Griech. Myth._ I. 690 ff.\n\n[1363] Paus. V. 18. 1. Cf. III. 18. 1.\n\n[1364] Passow, _Popul. Carm._ CCCXCVI.\n\n[1365] Hom. _Od._ XXIV. 1.\n\n[1366] Virg. _Aen._ IV. 242 ff.\n\n[1367] See above, pp. 96 ff. and pp. 134 ff.\n\n[1368] Paus. VIII. 2. 5.\n\n[1369] Paus. _ibid._ \u00a7 4.\n\n[1370] Passow, _Pop. Carm._ no. 364.\n\n[1371] Passow, _Pop. Carm._ no. 374.\n\n[1372] The word \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70, (\u2018joy\u2019), as I have pointed out elsewhere, is\nindeed often used technically of marriage.\n\n[1373] Passow, _Pop. Carm._ no. 38 (ll. 13-18) and also nos. 65, 152,\n180.\n\n[1374] See above, pp. 255 ff.\n\n[1375] Abbott, _Macedon. Folklore_, p. 255.\n\n[1376] Passow, _Pop. Carm._ no. 370. The phrase \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70, which I\nhave inadequately rendered as \u2018maketh glad,\u2019 is technically used of\nmarriage. See above, p. 127.\n\n[1377] For authorities see Lobeck, _Aglaoph._ I. pp. 76 ff.\n\n[1378] Soph. _Antig._ 574-5. I do not know how much stress may be laid\non the repetition of the pronoun \u1f45\u03b4\u03b5 in these two lines (viz. \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b4\u03b5 and \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2); but the lines follow closely on that\nin which Creon bids Ismene speak no more of Antigone as \u1f25\u03b4\u03b5, and an\nironical stress might well be laid by Creon on the word \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b4\u03b5 as he\nuses it, which would suggest to his audience its antithesis \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1f76\n\u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2.\n\n[1379] Soph. _Antig._ 804-5.\n\n[1380] _ibid._ 810-16.\n\n[1381] _ibid._ 891-2.\n\n[1382] _ibid._ 1203-7.\n\n[1383] _ibid._ 1240-1.\n\n[1384] Pindar, _Fragm._ 139 (Bergk).\n\n[1385] Aesch. _Prom._ 940 ff.\n\n[1386] _Oneirocr._ II. 49. The word \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7 denotes here not merely a\n\u2018rite,\u2019 but a \u2018consummation\u2019 by which a man becomes \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2. See below,\np. 591.\n\n[1387] _ibid._ I. 80. To translate the passage more fully is not\nconvenient; I append the original: \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff7 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f22 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fb7 \u03bc\u03b9\u03b3\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f22 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u00b7 \u03c4\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f21 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03cc\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03af\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u1f10\u03b3\u03b3\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f96 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c0\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\n\u1fa7 \u1f10\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6.\n\n[1388] _ibid._ II. 65.\n\n[1389] _Oneirocr._ II. 49.\n\n[1390] The majority of the references to ancient usage given below are\nborrowed from Becker\u2019s _Charicles_.\n\n[1391] Thuc. II. 15.\n\n[1392] Eur. _Phoen._ 347.\n\n[1393] Aeschines, _Epist._ X. p. 680.\n\n[1394] Cf. Pollux, III. 43.\n\n[1395] Soph. _Antig._ 901.\n\n[1396] _De Luctu_, 11.\n\n[1397] Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 193.\n\n[1398] For a discussion of this point see Becker, _Charicles_ pp. 483-4.\n\n[1399] Harpocrat. s.v. \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. \u1f14\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f26\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03bd\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1 \u1f10\u03c6\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9. \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f26\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2\n\u1f51\u03b4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd. The same words are repeated by Photius and Suidas. With\n\u1f10\u03c6\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 it appears necessary to supply \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd. Cf. Pollux VIII.\n66 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c6\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf, \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7 \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\n\u1f51\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.... For other references see Becker, _Charicles_ p. 484. This\ninformation, as regards the emblem used, is held to be incorrect. The\n\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 was not a boy bearing a pitcher, but the pitcher itself.\nSee Frazer, _Pausanias_, vol. V. p. 388.\n\n[1400] For this view see Frazer, _Pausanias_, vol. V. p. 389. \u2018It may\nbe suggested that originally the custom of placing a water-pitcher on\nthe grave of unmarried persons ... may have been meant to help them to\nobtain in another world the happiness they had missed in this. In fact\nit may have been part of a ceremony designed to provide the dead maiden\nor bachelor with a spouse in the spirit land. Such ceremonies have\nbeen observed in various parts of the world by peoples, who, like the\nGreeks, esteemed it a great misfortune to die unmarried.\u2019\n\n[1401] _Plut._ 529.\n\n[1402] Cf. Lucian, _de Luctu_ 11.\n\n[1403] For a discussion of the point in relation to funerals see\nBecker, _Charicles_ pp. 385 f. and in relation to marriage pp. 486 f.\n\n[1404] Lucian, _de Luctu_ 11.\n\n[1405] I. 6.\n\n[1406] Cf. Passow, _Popul. Carm. Graec. Recent._ no. 415, and\nTournefort, _Voyage du Levant_, I. p. 153, who describes a dead woman,\nwhose funeral he witnessed, as \u2018par\u00e9e \u00e0 la Gr\u00e9que de ses habits de\nn\u00f4ces.\u2019\n\n[1407] Passow, _Popul. Carm._ 378.\n\n[1408] _Charicles_ p. 487.\n\n[1409] Lucian, _de Luctu_ 11. Aristoph. _Lysist._ 602 etc.\n\n[1410] The influence of the Church was against the use of garlands in\nearly times and perhaps suppressed it in some districts. Cf. Minucius,\np. 109 \u2018Nec mortuos coronamus. Ergo vos (the heathen) in hoc magis\nmiror, quemadmodum tribuatis exanimi aut [non] sentienti facem aut\nnon sentienti coronam: cum et beatus non egeat, et miser non gaudeat\nfloribus.\u2019 The first _non_ is clearly to be deleted.\n\n[1411] Cf. Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 193.\n\n[1412] Cf. _ibid._ p. 197.\n\n[1413] Hom. _Hymn. in Demet._ 372 ff. Hence the pomegranate was treated\nas \u2018an accursed thing\u2019 in the worship of Demeter at Lycosura, Paus.\nVIII. 37. 7.\n\n[1414] Paus. II. 17. 4.\n\n[1415] See above, p. 548.\n\n[1416] See above, p. 80.\n\n[1417] The following references are in the main taken from Lobeck,\n_Aglaophamus_.\n\n[1418] Soph. _Fragm._ 719 (Dind.).\n\n[1419] Hom. _Hymn. ad Cer._ 480 ff.\n\n[1420] Pind. _Fragm._ 137 (Bergk).\n\n[1421] Id. _Fragm._ 129. See above, p. 518.\n\n[1422] Aristoph. _Ranae_ 440-459.\n\n[1423] Isocr. _Paneg._ p. 46.\n\n[1424] _Aglaoph._ I. p. 70.\n\n[1425] \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u03ae\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2, p. 166.\n\n[1426] Aristid. _Eleusin._ 259 (454).\n\n[1427] Julian. _Or._ VII. 238. The same story in similar words recurs\nin Diog. Laert. VI. 39 and Plut. _de Aud. Poet._ II. p. 21 F.\n\n[1428] Crinagoras, _Ep._ XXX.\n\n[1429] Cic. _de Leg._ II. \u00a7 36.\n\n[1430] _Mathem._ I. p. 18, ed. Buller.\n\n[1431] _Aglaoph._ I. pp. 39 f.\n\n[1432] See Lobeck, _Aglaoph._ I. pp. 6 ff.\n\n[1433] Diodorus, v. 77. Cf. Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of\nGreek Religion_, p. 567.\n\n[1434] For references on this point, see Lobeck, _Aglaophamus_, I. 14\nff.\n\n[1435] For the evidence that the Achaeans adopted the language of the\nPelasgians, and not _vice vers\u00e2_, see Ridgeway, _Early Age of Greece_,\nvol. I. p. 631 ff.\n\n[1436] _Protrept._ \u00a7 55.\n\n[1437] Hom. _Il._ I. 221 f.\n\n[1438] Euseb. _Demonstr. Evang._ V. 1, 268 E.\n\n[1439] _Praep. Evang._ XV. 1, 788 C.\n\n[1440] \u03a0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4. \u00a7 61.\n\n[1441] Synes. _de Prov._ II. 124 B.\n\n[1442] Cf. Artemid. _Oneirocr._ Bk III. cap. 61.\n\n[1443] In Thera, as I myself witnessed, and until recently at Delphi.\nGreeks with whom I have spoken of this custom have often seen or heard\nof it somewhere.\n\n[1444] I regret that my notes contain no mention of my informant\u2019s\nname. I must apologise to him for the omission.\n\n[1445] Asterius, _Encom. in SS. Martyr._ in Migne, _Patrolog.\nGraeco-Lat._ vol. XL. p. 324.\n\n[1446] _Adv. Valentin._ cap. I.\n\n[1447] Eusebius, _Hist. Eccles._ IV. 11. Cf. Sainte-Croix, _Recherches\nsur les Myst\u00e8res_, 2nd ed., I. p. 366.\n\n[1448] _loc. cit._\n\n[1449] [Origen] _Philosophumena_, p. 115 (ed. Miller), p. 170 (ed.\nCruice). Cf. Miss J. Harrison, _Proleg. to Study of Gk Relig._ p. 549.\n\n[1450] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ II. 18.\n\n[1451] Dieterich, _Eine Mithras-Liturgie_, p. 125, cited by Miss J.\nHarrison, _Proleg. to Study of Gk Relig._ p. 155, note 3.\n\n[1452] Hesiod, _Theog._ 970 f. Cf. Hom. _Od._ V. 125.\n\n[1453] Theocr. _Id._ III. 49 ff. (A. Lang\u2019s translation).\n\n[1454] Plutarch, _de fac. in orb. lun._ 28, cited by Miss Harrison,\n_Proleg. to Study of Gk Relig._ p. 267.\n\n[1455] See above, pp. 91 f. and 96 ff.\n\n[1456] Theocr. _Id._ III. 46 ff.\n\n[1457] _Protrept._ \u00a7 14.\n\n[1458] Theocr. _Id._ XV. 86.\n\n[1459] _Orph. Hymn._ LVI.; Bion, _Id._ I. 5. 54; Lucian, _Dial. deor._\nXI. 1; Macrob. _Saturn._ I. 21; Procop. _in Esai._ XVIII. p. 258. Cf.\nLenormant, _Monogr. de la voie sacr\u00e9e \u00e9leusin._, where many other\nreferences are given.\n\n[1460] Dem. \u039a\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u039d\u03b5\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2, pp. 1369-1371 _et passim_. Cf. Arist. \u1f08\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd.\n\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb. 3.\n\n[1461] _Etymol. Mag._ 227. 36.\n\n[1462] Hesych. s.v. \u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03af.\n\n[1463] See above, pp. 339 ff.\n\n[1464] Plutarch, _de defectu orac._ cap. 14 (p. 417).\n\n[1465] See above, p. 139.\n\n[1466] Not so, however, to Artemidorus. Cf. _Oneirocr._ I. 80.\n\n[1467] _Protrept._ \u00a7 34.\n\n[1468] _l. c._\n\n[1469] _Protrept._ \u00a7 16.\n\n[1470] Theophr. _Char._ 28 (ed. Jebb).\n\n[1471] _l. c._\n\n[1472] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ II. 15.\n\n[1473] The cymbal certainly belonged to Demeter also (see Miss\nHarrison, _op. cit._ p. 562) but not, I think, the kettle-drum.\n\n[1474] Psellus (_Quaenam sunt Graecorum opiniones de daemonibus_, 3,\ned. Migne) refers the formulary to the rites of Demeter and Kore. But\nI cannot agree with Miss J. Harrison (_Prolegomena to the Study of\nGreek Religion_, p. 569) as to the importance of Psellus\u2019 testimony\nin any respect. He appears to me to give no more than a _r\u00e9sum\u00e9_ of\ninformation derived from Clement\u2019s _Protreptica_, misunderstood and\neven more confused.\n\n[1475] Paus. II. 17. 3.\n\n[1476] Miss J. Harrison, _op. cit._ p. 536, commenting on\n_Philosophumena_, ed. Cruice, v. 3.\n\n[1477] A title under which both Zeus and Hermes were known; see\nAristoph. _Pax_, 42, and Schol. _ibid._ 649.\n\n[1478] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ \u00a7 54.\n\n[1479] Athen. VI. p. 253 A. Shortly afterwards he quotes a song (253\nD) in which it is the name of Demeter which is coupled with that of\nDemetrius.\n\n[1480] Athen. VI. 253 A, and 261 B.\n\n[1481] Glycon was Alexander\u2019s new god, a re-incarnation of Asclepius,\nborn in the form of a snake out of an egg discovered by Alexander.\n\n[1482] A superstitious old Roman entrapped by Alexander.\n\n[1483] Lucian, _Alexander seu Pseudomantis_, cap. 38-39 (II. 244 ff.).\n\n[1484] See Miss J. Harrison, _op. cit._ pp. 549 ff.\n\n[1485] Paton, _Inscr. of Cos_, 386, cited by Rouse, _Greek Votive\nOfferings_, p. 246.\n\n[1486] Plutarch, _Conjug. Praec. ad init._\n\n[1487] Schol. _ad Soph. Antig._ 1241.\n\n[1488] Photius, _Lex. Rhet._ Vol. II. p. 670 (ed. Porson), cited by\nFarnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, I. p. 245.\n\n[1489] For the chief references, see Farnell, _loc. cit._\n\n[1490] Farnell, _op. cit._ p. 191.\n\n[1491] Diod. Sic. V. 73; Pollux III. 38. Cf. Farnell, _op. cit._ p. 246.\n\n[1492] Pollux, _l. c._ \u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u1fc3 (\u03c4\u1fc7 \u1f2c\u03c1\u1fb3) \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u1f50\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2\n\u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[1493] Cf. Plutarch, _Amator. Narrat._ 1, where the girls of Haliartus\nare said to have bathed themselves in the spring Cissoessa immediately\nbefore making the sacrifices just mentioned, and evidently as part of\nthe same ritual.\n\n[1494] [Aeschines] _Epist._ 10, p. 680.\n\n[1495] Chariton IV. 4.\n\n[1496] _Gorgias_, p. 493 B.\n\n[1497] Frazer, _ad Pausan._ X. 31. 9 (vol. V. p. 389).\n\n[1498] I cannot pretend to have gone into the whole literature of the\nsubject, but I find no reference to this passage either in Dr Frazer\u2019s\n_Pausanias_, _l. c._, or in Miss Harrison\u2019s _Proleg. to Study of Gk\nRelig._ pp. 614 ff., where the same topic is fully discussed.\n\n[1499] Lucian, _Dial. Marin._ 6. 3.\n\n[1500] Eustath. _ad Hom. Il._ XXIII. 141.\n\n[1501] _Anthol. Pal._ VII. 507.\n\n[1502] For other examples see Lenormant, _Monographie de la voie sacr\u00e9e\n\u00e9leusinienne_, pp. 50 f., where also the above example is quoted.\n\n[1503] Auson. _Epitaph._ no. 33.\n\n[1504] _Prolegomena to Study of Gk Religion_, pp. 573 ff.\n\n[1505] _op. cit._ p. 586; Kaibel, _C.I.G.I.S._, 641.\n\n[1506] See above, p. 586.\n\n[1507] See above, p. 586.\n\n[1508] See above, p. 589.\n\n[1509] I am forced by these considerations to dissent from Miss\nHarrison\u2019s view as expressed _op. cit._ p. 594, \u2018Here the symbolism\nseems to be of birth rather than of marriage,\u2019 and again \u2018this rite of\nbirth or adoption ...\u2019: and indeed this view seems hardly to tally with\nthat which she suggests later (p. 600), \u201cBurial itself may well have\nbeen to them (the Pythagoreans) as to Antigone a mystic marriage: \u2018I\nhave sunk beneath the bosom of Despoina, Queen of the Underworld.\u2019\u201d\n\n[1510] Furtw\u00e4ngler, _Die Idee des Todes_, p. 293.\n\n[1511] See above, p. 585.\n\n[1512] Plutarch, _Sympos._ IV. 5. 3.\n\n[1513] Aristoph. _Aves_, 1737.\n\n[1514] Cf. Schol. _ad Aristoph._ _l. c._\n\n[1515] This, I am aware, is not an unique case. Plato applies the same\nepithet to the gods as a whole, but above all to Eros, clearly, I\nthink, with something of the same significance. See Plato, _Sympos._ \u00a7\n21, p. 195 A.\n\n[1516] Cf. Theo Smyrnaeus, _Math._ I. 18; Aristid. _Eleusin._ p. 415;\nPlato, _Phaedrus_, p. 48.\n\n[1517] Lenormant, _Monographie de la voie sacr\u00e9e \u00e9leusinienne_, p. 54.\n\n[1518] _l. c._\n\n[1519] For a long list of such monuments dealing with the story of\nPersephone, see Clarac, _Mus\u00e9e de Sculpt. anc. at mod._--\u2018Bas-reliefs\nGrecs et Romains,\u2019 pp. 209-10.\n\n[1520] _Monographie de la voie sacr\u00e9e \u00e9leusinienne_, p. 56.\n\n[1521] Aristoph. _Aves_, 1737.\n\n[1522] Soph. _Antig._ 787 ff.\n\n[1523] Pind. _Nem._ VI. _init._\n\n[1524] Plato, _Phaedo_, cap. 32, p. 82 B, C.\n\n[1525] See Geddes\u2019 notes _ad loc._\n\n[1526] For other evidence confirming this view, see Geddes\u2019 notes _ad\nloc._\n\n[1527] Plutarch, _de defect. orac._ cap. 10, p. 415.\n\n[1528] Plato, _Symp._ \u00a7 7, p. 180.\n\n[1529] _ibid._ \u00a7 15, p. 188.\n\n[1530] _ibid._ \u00a7 19, p. 193.\n\n\n\n\nGENERAL INDEX\n\n\n  Ablutions, at weddings and at funerals, 555\n\n  Aborigines, regarded as wizards, 248;\n    their relations with invaders, 244\n\n  Absolution, and dissolution, 401;\n    of the dead, 396 ff.\n\n  Achaeans, religion of, 521 f.\n\n  Adonis, story of, 582;\n    story of, how interpreted, 580;\n    as type of the initiated, 582\n\n  Aeschylus, popular beliefs utilised by, 437 ff., 459 f.;\n    religious sympathies of, 523\n\n  Aetolus, story of, 273\n\n  Agamemnon, as _revenant_, 438\n\n  Alastor, application of word, 465 ff.;\n    as proper name (in Homer), 473;\n    as term of abuse, 477;\n    derivation of word, 471;\n    development of meaning of word, 475 f.;\n    meaning of, 476;\n    original meaning of, 472\n\n  Alastores, 462 ff.;\n    not originally deities, 467 ff.\n\n  Allatius, on _vrykolakes_, 364 ff.\n\n  Amorgos, oracle of, 332\n\n  Amulets, 12-13, 21, 140\n\n  Amymone, story of, 593\n\n  Ancient language, attempted revival of, 30\n\n  Angels, exorcism of, 68;\n    good and bad, 288;\n    worship of, 42\n\n  Animals, unlucky species of, 307\n\n  Anointing, of the dead, 557\n\n  Anthropomorphic conception of God, 52\n\n  Antigone, as \u2018bride of Acheron,\u2019 551\n\n  Antiphon, on blood-guilt, 443\n\n  Aphrodite, 117-120;\n    \u2018eldest of the Fates,\u2019 120;\n    mystic rites of, 580\n\n  Apis, story of, 459\n\n  Apollonius of Tyana, 257\n\n  Apostasy, 409\n\n  Apple, symbolic usage of, 558\n\n  \u2018Arabs\u2019 (a class of demons), 211, 276 f.;\n    identified with _vrykolakes_ (q.v.), 277\n\n  Ariadne, story of, how represented on sepulchral monuments, 598\n\n  Aristomenes, 76\n\n  Arrogance of Greeks, 29\n\n  Art, in relation to religion, 1\n\n  Artemidorus, on death and marriage, 553 ff.\n\n  Artemis, 163-171;\n    as huntress, 165;\n    as the Moon, 165;\n    bathing of, 164-5;\n    displaced by S. Artemidos, 44;\n    modern character of, 169;\n    offerings to, 170\n\n  Asclepius, in serpent-form, 274 f.;\n    re-incarnation of, in mock-mysteries, 589\n\n  Ass-centaurs, 235 and 237 f.\n\n  Athene, and the owl, 207;\n    succeeded by Virgin Mary, 45\n\n  Athenians, religious sympathies of, 523\n\n  Attis, 586\n\n  Augury (_see_ Auspices)\n\n  August, certain days sacred to Nymphs, 152\n\n  Auspices, 308 ff.;\n    affected by number, 313;\n    from any movement of birds, 311;\n    from cry of birds, 311;\n    from flight of birds, 311;\n    from posture of birds, 311;\n    modified by position of observer, 312\n\n  Avengers, dead persons as, 438\n\n  Avengers of Blood, ancient names for, 462 ff.;\n    their resemblance to modern _vrykolakes_, 458\n\n  Axe, double-headed, as religious symbol, 72\n\n\n  \u2018Baboutzicarios,\u2019 217\n\n  Bacchic rites, 38\n\n  Baptism, exorcisms at, 15;\n    neglect of, 409\n\n  Beast-dances, 224 ff.\n\n  Bed-chambers, in temples, 587\n\n  Beehive tombs, original use of, 94\n\n  Bells, worn at popular festivals, 224 ff.\n\n  \u2018Binding\u2019 and \u2018loosing,\u2019 397\n\n  Binding-spells, 19;\n    means of loosing, 19\n\n  Birds, as messengers, in modern ballads, 316 f.;\n    as messengers of particular gods, 309;\n    colloquial application of word, 315;\n    in popular ballads, 315;\n    still acknowledged as messengers of heaven, 315;\n    which classes observed for auspices (q.v.), 308 f.;\n    why selected for divination, 308\n\n  Black-handled knife, as charm, 286\n\n  Blessing the waters, 197\n\n  Blood-guilt, ancient conception of, 451;\n    Attic law concerning, 443;\n    penalties for, 453;\n    Plato\u2019s legislation concerning, 444\n\n  Blue beads, as amulets, 12\n\n  Body and soul, relation of, 361 ff., 526 ff.;\n    re-union of, 538\n\n  Bones of the dead, how treated after exhumation, 540 f.\n\n  Boreas, 52\n\n  Breast-bone of fowl, divination from, 327\n\n  Bridal customs (_see_ Wedding, Marriage)\n\n  \u2018Bridge of Arta,\u2019 The, 262 f.\n\n  _Brumalia_ (in Greece), 221\n\n  Burial (_see also_ Cremation, Inhumation);\n    demanded by ghosts, 431;\n    lack of, 407 f., 427, 449;\n    lack of, as punishment, 457\n\n  Buzzing in ear, as omen, 329\n\n\n  Callicantzari, 190-255;\n    afraid of fire, 202;\n    beast-like elements in, 203;\n    compared with Centaurs, 253;\n    demons or men?, 207-211;\n    description of, 191;\n    description of smaller species of, 193;\n    development of superstition concerning, 254;\n    dialectic forms of name, 211 ff.;\n    footgear of, 221; general habits of, 194;\n    how outwitted, 196-200;\n    identified with Centaurs, 235;\n    identified with were-wolves, 208;\n    offerings to, 201, 232;\n    originally anthropomorphic, 206;\n    origin of name, 211 ff.;\n    power of transformation possessed by, 204, 240;\n    precautions against, 200-202;\n    resembling Satyrs and Centaurs, 192;\n    sources of their features and attributes, 237 ff.;\n    stories concerning, 196-200;\n    their activity limited to Christmastide, 221;\n    their relation to Satyrs, etc., 229 ff.;\n    two main classes of, 191;\n    variously represented, 190;\n    whether demons or men originally, 209 ff.;\n    wives of, 200\n\n  Callicantzaros, The Great, 195\n\n  Callirrho\u00eb, as sacred spring, 555\n\n  Candles, thrown into grave at funeral, 512\n\n  \u2018Captain Thirteen,\u2019 a folk-story, 75\n\n  Carnival, celebrations of, 224 ff.\n\n  Cat, jumping over dead person, 410;\n    omens drawn from, 328\n\n  Caves, haunted by Nymphs, 160\n\n  Cenotaphs, 490\n\n  Centauros, son of Ixion, 242\n\n  Centaurs (_see_ Callicantzari), 190-255;\n    and Lapithae, 242;\n    as wizards, 248 f.;\n    compared with Callicantzari, 253;\n    general character of, 246;\n    Heracles\u2019 fight with, 253;\n    how represented in Art, 247;\n    in Hesiod, 242;\n    in Homer, 243;\n    in Pindar, 241;\n    popular conception of, how affected by Art, 252;\n    Prof. Ridgeway\u2019s view of, 244 ff.;\n    various species of, 235, 237;\n    whether human or divine in origin, 241 ff.;\n    why called \u2018Beasts,\u2019 245 ff.\n\n  Cephalus, 601\n\n  Cerberus, 97, 99\n\n  Character of modern Greeks, 28 ff.\n\n  Charms, 286\n\n  Charon, 98-117;\n    addressed as \u2018Saint,\u2019 53;\n    ancient literary presentation of, 106;\n    as ferryman, earliest mention of, 114;\n    brother to Uranos, 116;\n    identified with Death, 114\n\n  Charon\u2019s obol, 108, 285;\n    as charm to prevent soul from re-entering body, 434;\n    custom of, how interpreted, 405 f.\n\n  Charos, appearance of, 100;\n    as agent of God, 101-4;\n    as archer, 105;\n    as ferryman, 107;\n    as godfather, story of, 102;\n    as horseman, 105;\n    as pirate, 107-8;\n    as warrior, 105;\n    as wrestler, 104, 105;\n    Christianised character of, 101;\n    coin as fee for, 109;\n    functions of, 101;\n    household of, 99;\n    in connexion with Christianity, 101;\n    originally Pelasgian deity, 116;\n    pagan character of, 105\n\n  Charun, Etruscan god, 116\n\n  Child-birth, precautions against Nereids observed at, 140;\n    precautions at, 10-11\n\n  Children, conceived or born on Church-festivals, how afflicted, 408;\n    liable to lycanthropy, 208;\n    preyed upon by Gelloudes, 177;\n    preyed upon by Striges, 181;\n    stricken by Nereids, how treated, 145;\n    suspected of lycanthropy, how treated, 210\n\n  Chiron, 241 ff., 248;\n    as magician and prophet, 248 f.\n\n  Cholera, personified, 22\n\n  Christ, accepted as new deity by pagans, 41\n\n  \u2018Christian,\u2019 popular usage of word, 66\n\n  Christianity, became polytheistic, 42;\n    and paganism, 36\n\n  Church, influenced by paganism, 572 f.\n\n  Churching of women, 20\n\n  Clement of Alexandria, on the Mysteries, 570, 572;\n    on rites of Aphrodite, 581\n\n  Clytemnestra, ghost of, 474\n\n  Cock, as victim, 326\n\n  Cocks, superstitions concerning, 195\n\n  Coin, as charm, 111;\n    placed in mouth of dead persons, 108, 405;\n    placed in mouth of dead persons, various substitutes for, 112\n\n  \u2018Comforting,\u2019 feast of, 533\n\n  Common origin of gods and men, 65\n\n  Communion with gods, philosophers\u2019 views of, 296\n\n  Conquering and conquered races, relations of, 244\n\n  Conservatism, religious, 95, 295, 337\n\n  \u2018Constantine and Aret\u00e9\u2019 (ballad), 391 f.\n\n  Continuity of Greek life and thought, 552\n\n  Convention, literary, 429\n\n  Corpse, re-animation of, 112 (_see_ Re-animation, Resuscitation)\n\n  Corycian cave, 161\n\n  Courage of Greeks, 28\n\n  Cremation (_see also_ Funeral-rites), 485 ff.;\n    ceremonial, 496, 512;\n    ceremonial substitute for, 491;\n    Christian attitude towards, 501;\n    combined with inhumation, 494;\n    disuse of, 501 f.;\n    for disposing of _revenants_ in Ancient Greece, 416;\n    for disposing of _vrykolakes_, 411;\n    in theory preferable to inhumation, 488 f.;\n    in recent times, 503;\n    introduced by Achaeans, 491;\n    motives for, 502 f.;\n    preferred to inhumation, 500 f.;\n    revival of, 502;\n    serving same religious end as inhumation, 491 ff.\n\n  Crockery broken at funerals, 520\n\n  Crow, 309;\n    exception to ordinary rules of divination, 310\n\n  Curses, 387 ff., 409;\n    diagnosed by their effects, 396;\n    executed by demonic agents, 448;\n    fixity of, 417;\n    in Euripides, 418;\n    in Sophocles, 419;\n    operation of, 447;\n    parental, 391 ff.;\n    revoking of, 388 f.\n\n  Custom-dues, for passage of soul to other world, 285\n\n  Customs-officers, celestial, 284\n\n  Cybele, rites of, 586\n\n\n  Daemons, Plutarch\u2019s theory of, 583 f.\n\n  Danaids, as types of unmarried women, 592\n\n  Dances, 34\n\n  Dead, messages to the, 345;\n    worship of the, 529 note 1\n\n  Dead persons, as messengers to the other world, 344 ff.;\n    what kinds of food presented to, 533 f.\n\n  Deadly sins, 425 ff.\n\n  Death, as penalty for bloodguilt, 455;\n    conceived as a form of marriage, by Sophocles, 549 ff.;\n    conceived as a form of marriage, in modern dirges, 546 ff.;\n    conceived as a wedding with Persephone, 595;\n    how personified in the _Alcestis_, 115;\n    in correlation with marriage, 553;\n    represented as a wedding on sepulchral monuments, 597 f.;\n    sudden or violent, 408, 427\n\n  Death-struggle, 288, 289;\n    how eased, 389\n\n  Decomposition (_see_ Dissolution)\n\n  Degeneracy of mankind, 294\n\n  Deities, gregarious or solitary, 70;\n    non-Christian, how denoted, 67;\n    pagan, local names for, 69\n\n  \u2018Delivering unto Satan,\u2019 406\n\n  Demeter (_see also_ Mysteries of Demeter), 79-98;\n    and Poseidon, modern story of, 86;\n    as corn-goddess, 562;\n    character of, 92;\n    Cretan legend of, 579;\n    displaced by S. Demetrius, 44;\n    dwelling-place of, 92;\n    evidence for identity of, 92;\n    her priestesses officiating at weddings, 590;\n    horse-headed, 87, 252;\n    in Homer, 522;\n    in modern story, 54;\n    modern functions of, 93;\n    modern titles of, 89;\n    modern worship of her statue, 80;\n    mysteries of (_see_ Mysteries);\n    represented by S. Demetrius, 79;\n    stories of her union with men, 579 f.;\n    story of, compared with story of Christ, 576;\n    where originally domiciled, 93-96\n\n  Demeter and Persephone, modern legend of, 80;\n    symbolism of myth concerning, 88;\n    unity of, 88\n\n  Demetrius Poliorcetes, story of, 587\n\n  Demons, exorcism of, 68\n\n  Despoina, 579;\n    marriage with, 596\n\n  Deucalion, 93\n\n  Devils, entering bodies of dead men, 416;\n    exorcism of, 68\n\n  Devil, responsible for resuscitation of dead persons, 402\n\n  \u2018Diana,\u2019 164\n\n  Dionysus, and Prosymnus, story of, 585;\n    displaced by S. Dionysius, 43;\n    festivals of, 228-230;\n    identified with Adonis, 599;\n    identified with Hades, 585, 599;\n    in scenes on sepulchral monuments, 598 f.;\n    marriage of the \u2018queen\u2019 with, 583;\n    mystic rites of, 582\n\n  Dioscuri, 286\n\n  Dipylon-cemetery, excavations in, 494\n\n  Dirges, 347;\n    character of modern, 549;\n    examples of modern, 546 ff.;\n    purpose of, 519, 549\n\n  Diseases, caused by demons, 22\n\n  Dishonesty of Greeks, 31\n\n  Disintegration (_see_ Dissolution)\n\n  Dissolution, and absolution, 401;\n    best secured by cremation, 502;\n    desire for, a feature of Pelasgian religion, 524;\n    distinguished from annihilation, 525, 538;\n    summary of ancient views concerning, 526;\n    time required for, 486 ff.;\n    why desired, 515 ff.\n\n  Divination, at weddings, 326;\n    by chance words, 303 ff.;\n    by lot, 303;\n    by sacrifice, 264, 318;\n    \u2018domestic,\u2019 327;\n    from birds (_see also_ Auspices), 308 ff.;\n    from breast-bone of fowl, 327;\n    from chance words, in antiquity, 305;\n    from demeanour of victim, 326;\n    from eggs, 331;\n    from involuntary movements of limbs, etc., 329;\n    from meetings on the road, 306;\n    from pig\u2019s spleen, 325;\n    from sheep\u2019s shoulder-blade, 321 ff.;\n    from sieves, 331;\n    from water, 332 f.;\n    methods of, compared, 298;\n    suggested divisions of, 298;\n    various branches of, 298\n\n  Dog howling at night, significance of, 328\n\n  Dogs, 32\n\n  Donkey, ill-omened, 307\n\n  Dragons, as guardians of buried treasure, 281;\n    in folk-story, 82;\n    popular conception of, 280;\n    story of, 281 f.\n\n  Drama, primitive, 224-6;\n    restrictions of, 429;\n    rudiments of, 35\n\n  Dreams, 300 ff.;\n    deliberately induced, 303;\n    ecclesiastical use of, 301\n\n  Dress, at weddings and at funerals, 557\n\n  \u2018Drumlike\u2019 (as description of dead bodies) (_see_ \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2), 370\n\n  Drunkenness, when permissible, 303, 533\n\n  Dryads, 151\n\n\n  Eagle, 309\n\n  Easter, 575 f.;\n    celebration of, 572 ff.\n\n  Ecstasy, in ancient religion, 37;\n    religious, 294 f., 576\n\n  Eleusinian mysteries (_see_ Mysteries of Demeter)\n\n  Eleusis, excavations in cemetery at, 495\n\n  Empusa, 174, 175\n\n  Entrails, inspection of victim\u2019s, 320, 325\n\n  Ephialtes, 21 (note 2)\n\n  Epiphany, observance of, 197;\n    superstitions concerning, 221\n\n  Equality of men and gods, 604\n\n  Erinyes (_see_ Furies)\n\n  Eros, 118-120\n\n  \u2018Eternal drunkenness,\u2019 39\n\n  Ethical influence of Christianity, 39\n\n  Eudaemonia, as goddess, 602\n\n  Eumaeus, reception of Odysseus by, 32\n\n  Euphemistic names for deities, 69, 70\n\n  Euripides, popular form of imprecation utilised by, 418\n\n  Evil Eye, amulets against, 13;\n    animals affected by, 11-12;\n    cures for maladies caused by, 14;\n    effects of, 10;\n    inanimate things affected by, 12;\n    in Greece, 9-15;\n    means of averting, 14;\n    persons affected by, 11;\n    to whom attributed, 9-10;\n    widespread belief in, 8\n\n  Excommunication (_see also_ \u2018binding\u2019 _and_ \u2018loosing\u2019), 401;\n    causing non-dissolution, instances of, 398 ff.;\n    effects of, 386, 396 ff.;\n    origin of, 406;\n    pagan influence on doctrine of, 401 f.\n\n  Execration (_see_ Curses, Imprecations)\n\n  Exhumation, 540;\n    at end of three years, 487\n\n  Exile, as punishment of homicide, 445, 455\n\n  Exorcism, by witch, 14-15\n\n\n  \u2018Fair Lady of the Mountains,\u2019 166\n\n  Faith-cures, 60, 62\n\n  Fallmerayer, 25\n\n  Fasts, strictly observed, 574\n\n  Fate, 289\n\n  Fates, the, 120-130;\n    appearance of, 124;\n    at birth of Athena, 130;\n    character of, 125;\n    distribution of functions among, 127;\n    functions of, 124, 127;\n    inexorability of, 122;\n    invocations of, 122, 128;\n    number of, 124;\n    offerings to, 120, 121, 125;\n    prayer to, 123;\n    seen or heard, 125-6;\n    the lesser, 127-8;\n    visits of, 125;\n    wrath of, 126\n\n  Festival-dress, as heirloom from mother to daughter, 537\n\n  Festivals, popular, 34, 35;\n    survival of pagan, 221 ff.\n\n  Fire, kept burning at grave-side, 507 ff.;\n    omens drawn from, 328\n\n  Fishing-net, as prophylactic, 21\n\n  Five, ominous number, 307 (note 1)\n\n  Flood, modern traditions of the, 93\n\n  Folklore, antiquity of, 8;\n    as clue to ancient religion, 7;\n    laws of, 8\n\n  Folk-stories and ancient myths, relation of, 76\n\n  Foreign cults naturalised in Greece, 580\n\n  Forestry, superstitions relating to, 158\n\n  Fortieth day after death, customs and beliefs concerning, 486 ff.\n\n  Foundation-stone, ceremonial of laying, 264\n\n  Funeral-customs, 345 ff., 496 ff.;\n    assimilated to marriage-customs, 560;\n    compared with marriage-customs, 554 ff.;\n    in relation to the Mysteries, 593 f.\n\n  Funeral-feasts (_see also_ Memorial Feasts), 532 f.\n\n  Funeral-meats, 533 f., 535 f.\n\n  Funeral-rites, Christian and pagan contrasted, 501;\n    Homeric, 492;\n    in Dipylon-period, 494;\n    Mycenaean, 493;\n    purpose of, 485 ff.;\n    why necessary for due dissolution of body, 490\n\n  Funerals, Solon\u2019s regulations concerning, 346 ff.\n\n  Funeral-usage, summary of conclusions concerning, 513 f.\n\n  Furies, as agents of Clytemnestra, 448;\n    as personified Curses, 448;\n    in Homer, 522;\n    origin of Aeschylus\u2019 conception of, 460 f.\n\n  Furtw\u00e4ngler, on death conceived as wedding, 597\n\n  Future life, Achaean conception of, 521 f.;\n    conceived in general as resembling life of gods, 525;\n    Homeric conception of, 516 ff.;\n    material character of, 524;\n    modern conceptions of, 518 f.;\n    Pindaric conception of, 518\n\n\n  Garlands, at weddings and at funerals, 557 f.\n\n  Garlic, as prophylactic, 140\n\n  \u2018Garlic in your eyes,\u2019 14\n\n  Gello, 71;\n    by-names of, 179;\n    story of, 177\n\n  Gelloudes, 176-9, 211;\n    activities of, 179;\n    cure for injuries inflicted by, 179\n\n  Genii, 255-291;\n    confused with victims offered to them, 267, 271 ff., 276 f.;\n    definition of, 256;\n    how related to the place or object which they inhabit, 259;\n    in form of bulls, 261 f., 277;\n    in form of dragons, 262, 280;\n    in form of snakes, 258, 259, 272 f.;\n    in Homer, 269;\n    in human shape, 275;\n    mating with Lamiae, 276;\n    of air, 283 ff.;\n    of bridges, 262;\n    of buildings, 259-275;\n    of churches, 261;\n    of houses, 259;\n    of human beings, 287 ff.;\n    of mountains and caves, etc., 280 ff.;\n    of water, 275 ff.;\n    offerings to, 260, 274;\n    sacrifice to, 262 ff.;\n    sacrifice to, in Ancient Greece, 269 ff.\n\n  Gennadius, story of, 399\n\n  Getae, human sacrifice among the, 350\n\n  Ghosts, asking for burial of body, 431;\n    conventionally substituted for _revenants_ in ancient literature, 429;\n    haunting neighbourhood of tombs, 430 f., 433;\n    in ancient literature, 427;\n    a modern Greek notions concerning, 428\n\n  Giants, story of, 73\n\n  Gifts to the dead, 493, 528 ff.;\n    how regarded by the Church, 531 f.;\n    in form of clothing, 536 f.;\n    in form of drink, 536;\n    in form of food, 533 ff.;\n    in modern Greece, 532;\n    in the classical-period, 530 f.;\n    in the Dipylon-period, 530;\n    in the Homeric Age, 529;\n    in the Mycenaean Age, 529;\n    motive for, 531, 537;\n    on what days presented, 530 f.;\n    until what date continued, 539 f.\n\n  Goat-skins, worn at certain popular festivals, 223 ff.\n\n  God, as controller of weather, in popular phrases, 51;\n    modern applications of word, 48\n\n  \u2018God of Crete,\u2019 74\n\n  Godhead, ancient view of, 65;\n    attainable by men, 604 f.\n\n  Gods, character of Greek, 526;\n    Greek conception of, 292 f.\n\n  Good Friday, 572 ff., 574 f.\n\n  Gorgons, 184-190;\n    and Scylla, 188;\n    appearance of, 184;\n    as deities of the sea, 188;\n    character of, 185;\n    compared with Sirens, 187;\n    depravity of, 185-6\n\n  Gorgon, meaning of the word, 186\n\n  Goshawk, 311\n\n  Guardian-angels, 288\n\n  Guardian-spirits, in ancient Greece, 290\n\n\n  Hades, 97;\n    house of, how conceived by Homer, 517;\n    modern presentment of, 518, 549\n\n  Hair, as source of strength, 76;\n    cf. 83\n\n  Hare, unlucky to meet, 307\n\n  Hawks, 309\n\n  Headache, magical cure of, 22\n\n  Healing, miraculous, 60, 302\n\n  Hebrew religion, contrasted with Greek, 3\n\n  Helena, 286\n\n  Helios, displaced by S. Elias, 44\n\n  Hemlock, 578\n\n  Hera, as type of women, 591;\n    cults of, 591;\n    wedding of, 599\n\n  Heracles, 469\n\n  Hermes Agoraeus, oracle of, 305\n\n  Hermes, as escorter of the dead, 544;\n    succeeded by S. Michael, 45\n\n  Heroes, in form of serpents, 273\n\n  Heron, 309\n\n  Hesiodic Ages of mankind, 294\n\n  Hesperides, 282\n\n  Hiccough, as omen, 330\n\n  Hippolytus, oath of, 418\n\n  Holy Ghost, rarely named by peasants, 51\n\n  Holy Week, 572 ff.\n\n  Homicide, Delphic tradition concerning, 444, 480;\n    Plato\u2019s legislation concerning, 451\n\n  Honey-cakes, as diet of _genii_, 274\n\n  Honey, as food for the dead, 533;\n    chief offering to Nymphs, 150;\n    offered to the Fates, 121\n\n  Hospitality of Greeks, 31\n\n  Human sacrifice, 262 ff., 273, 276;\n    a modern conception of, 341 ff.;\n    as means of sending a wife to some god, 583;\n    long-continued in Ancient Greece, 343;\n    modern story of, 339, 436;\n    substitute for, 583\n\n  Humour, popular sense of, 69\n\n  Hylas, modern parallel to story of, 161\n\n  Hymenaeus, legend of, 552\n\n\n  Iasion, as type of the initiated, 579\n\n  Icarus, 76\n\n  Icons, 301\n\n  Idolatry, popular inclination towards, 59\n\n  Image, magical treatment of, 16\n\n  Immorality of ancient deities, 39\n\n  Immortal fruit, 281 f.;\n    waters, 281\n\n  Immortality, doctrine of, 350 f.\n\n  Imprecations (_see also_ Curses), 387 ff.\n\n  Incantation, against whirlwinds, 150\n\n  Incorruptibility (_see also_ Vrykolakes), 384;\n    ancient imprecations of, 417 ff.;\n    Apollo\u2019s threat of, 421;\n    as punishment of blood-guilt, 456;\n    ecclesiastical view concerning, 396\n\n  Inhumation (_see also_ Funeral-rites), 485 ff.;\n    ceremonial substitutes for, 489 f.;\n    combined with cremation, 494;\n    serving same religious end as cremation, 491 ff.;\n    the Pelasgian rite, 491\n\n  Initiated, future happiness of the, 563 f.;\n    hopes of the, 578 f.\n\n  Ino, parallel to story of, 138\n\n  Insanity, popular view of, 299\n\n  Inspiration, 299\n\n  Interment (_see_ Inhumation)\n\n  Intoxication, when permitted, 303, 533\n\n  Iphigenia, sacrifice of, 270\n\n  Iron, as prophylactic, 140\n\n  Islands of the Blest, 520\n\n  Itching of hand or foot, as omen, 330\n\n  Ixion, 242\n\n\n  Kal\u00e1ndae (festival of the Kalends of January), 221\n\n  Ker, 289 f.\n\n  Key laid on breast of corpse, 109, 112\n\n  Knife, black-handled, as charm, 20, 172\n\n  Kore (_see also_ Persephone); as representative of the initiated, 578;\n    story of, how represented on sepulchral monuments, 597 f.\n\n\n  Laceration of checks, etc., at funerals, 346\n\n  Lamentation, at funerals, 347\n\n  \u2018Lame Demon,\u2019 The, 195\n\n  Lamia, ancient conception of, 175;\n    of the Sea, 171;\n    responsible for water-spouts, 172\n\n  Lamiae, 174-6;\n    character of, 174;\n    mated with _genii_, 276\n\n  Lamp, in Prytaneum, 513;\n    \u2018The Unsleeping,\u2019 508;\n    thrown into grave at funeral, 512;\n    why placed in graves, 505 f.\n\n  Language, as evidence of tradition, 35\n\n  Law governing evolution of Greek folklore, 206\n\n  Leaven, damaged by Evil Eye, 12\n\n  Left hand, unlucky, 312\n\n  Left to right, lucky direction, 312\n\n  Lenormant, on death conceived as a wedding, 601\n\n  Leprosy, penalty for eating pig\u2019s flesh, 87;\n    why named by Aeschylus among penalties of blood-guilt, 453 f.\n\n  Lightning, as instrument of God\u2019s vengeance, 73;\n    persons and objects struck by, 73\n\n  Literature, in relation to religion, 2\n\n  \u2018Loosing,\u2019 397;\n    equivalent to both \u2018absolution\u2019 and \u2018dissolution,\u2019 401\n\n  Love, as the bond of feeling between men and deities, 603;\n    in relation to the doctrine of the Mysteries, 606\n\n  Love-charms, 18\n\n  Lucian, on offerings to gods, 335\n\n  Lycaean Zeus, 352\n\n  Lycanthropy, 208, 239 f.;\n    in children, 380;\n    infants liable to, 183\n\n  Lying-in-state, 497\n\n\n  Madness, 299;\n    among penalties of blood-guilt, 454\n\n  Magic, 15-25;\n    sympathetic, 16, 521\n\n  Maniotes, the, 441\n\n  Mankind, of same race as gods, 65, 604\n\n  Marriage and death, correlation of, 533\n\n  Marriage, arranged by Athenians between Athene and Demetrius\n        Poliorcetes, 587 f.;\n    as \u2018initiation,\u2019 590;\n    association of the Mysteries with, 590 f.;\n    binding-spells to prevent consummation of, 19;\n    mimetic, as culminating point of Mysteries, 589;\n    mimetic, enacted in many cults, 577-587;\n    of men with deities, 545 ff.;\n    of men with deities, as a religious doctrine, 560 f.;\n    of men with deities, as mystic doctrine (summary), 602 f.;\n    the Sacred (\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2), 591\n\n  Marriage-customs, compared with funeral-customs, 554 ff.;\n    transferred to the funeral-rite, 560\n\n  Masks worn at popular festivals, 222 ff.\n\n  Matrimonial prospects, divination concerning, 303\n\n  Meat, excluded from funeral-repasts, 532\n\n  Medea, 463, 468\n\n  Medicine, popular, 21\n\n  Megrim, cure of, 23\n\n  Memorial-feasts, 486 ff.;\n    dates of, 534;\n    real purpose of, 534 f.;\n    significance of the dates of, 539\n\n  Men elevated to rank of daemons, 211\n\n  Messages to the dead, 344 ff.\n\n  Metamorphosis (_see_ Transformation)\n\n  Metempsychosis, Plato\u2019s theory of, 604 f.\n\n  Miastor, application of word, 463 f.;\n    meaning of, 477 ff.;\n    original meaning of word, 465\n\n  Miastores, 462 ff.\n\n  Midday, dangers of, 79\n\n  Miracles, expected by common-folk, 59;\n    genuine, 60;\n    sham, 60\n\n  Mirrors, superstition concerning, 10\n\n  \u2018Mistress, The,\u2019 89;\n    marriage of, 97\n\n  \u2018Mistress of the Earth and of the Sea,\u2019 54, 91, 579\n\n  Monotheism, compared with polytheism, 40;\n    no popular tendency towards, 3\n\n  Morality, little connected with ancient religion, 37\n\n  Mormo, 175\n\n  Mountain-nymphs, 148\n\n  Mourners, conduct of, 347;\n    professional, 347\n\n  Mouse, omens drawn from, 328\n\n  Mouth, as exit of soul, 111\n\n  Mummers, at Christmastime and at Carnival, 223 ff.;\n    representing Callicantzari, 227\n\n  Mumming, a survival of Dionysiac festivals, 229 ff.\n\n  Murder of kinsman, 425;\n    legal punishment for, 457\n\n  Murdered men as avengers (_see_ Avengers, _Revenants_)\n\n  Murdered persons, avenging their own wrongs, 437 ff.;\n    bodily activity of, 438;\n    future lot of, 434 f.;\n    mutilation of, 435;\n    personal activity of, 440 ff.;\n    returning in bodily form, 438\n\n  Murderers, future punishment of, 434 ff.;\n    penalties incurred by, 453 ff.\n\n  Mutilation of murdered persons, 435\n\n  Mysteries, alleged impurity of, 569 f.;\n    allusions to, in Tragedy, 550;\n    associated with funerals, 594 f.;\n    associated with wedding-rites, 590 f.;\n    benefits secured by participation in, 38;\n    Christian attitude towards, 569;\n    containing no doctrine alien to popular religion, 567;\n    grades of initiation in, 566;\n    main doctrines of the, 569;\n    openly performed in Crete, 568;\n    of Aphrodite, 581 f.;\n    of Cybele, 586;\n    of Demeter, (_see below_ Mysteries of Demeter);\n    of Dionysus, 582;\n    parodied by the false prophet Alexander, 588 f.;\n    Sabazian, 585;\n    summary of doctrines taught by, 589 f.;\n    summary of argument concerning, 602 f.;\n    their doctrines kept secret, 567;\n    their promises summarised by Theo Smyrnaeus, 566\n\n  Mysteries of Demeter, Achaeans excluded from, 567 f.;\n    ancient references to, 563 f.;\n    Christian attitude towards, 578;\n    compared with modern celebration of Holy Week and Easter, 572 ff.;\n    dramatic nature of, 577;\n    their effect on spectators, 576;\n    held in great veneration, 562 f.;\n    how understood by participants, 578 f.;\n    Pelasgian in origin, 567;\n    safeguards of morality in, 577 f.;\n    specific charge of impurity against, 577;\n    test of linguistic purity imposed at Eleusis, 568;\n    their kinship with Christian beliefs, 576;\n    their promises based on ideas of popular religion, 565;\n    their promises summarised, 565\n\n\n  Naiads, 159\n\n  \u2018Nailing,\u2019 magical rite, 17\n\n  Nationality, 27\n\n  Nereids (_see also_ Nymphs, Sea-nymphs, Mountain-nymphs, Tree-nymphs,\nand Water-nymphs), 130 ff.;\n    animals susceptible to influence of, 135;\n    appearances of, 131;\n    bride-like appearance of, 133;\n    by-names of, 132;\n    called \u2018she-devils,\u2019 149;\n    children carried off by, 150;\n    confusion of different species, 153;\n    consorts of, 149;\n    cruelty of, 139;\n    cures for mischief done by, 145;\n    depart at cock-crow, 137;\n    description of, 132-4;\n    domestic accomplishments of, 133;\n    dress of, 133;\n    famed for skill in spinning, 134;\n    festival of, 153;\n    forms of name, 130 (note 3);\n    general precautions against, 144;\n    in old signification, 146;\n    inconstancy of, 135, 138;\n    longevity of, 156;\n    magical kerchief of, 136;\n    male, 149;\n    means of protection against, 140;\n    not immortal, 156;\n    offerings to, 140, 150;\n    responsible for whirlwinds, 150;\n    \u2018seizure\u2019 by, 142;\n    story of wedding-procession of, 149;\n    supernatural qualities in dress of, 136;\n    theft of children by, 141;\n    their love of children, 140;\n    their marriage with men, 134;\n    their relations with men, 134-9;\n    their relations with women, 139;\n    transformation of, 137;\n    widespread belief in, 131;\n    with feet of goat or ass, 133\n\n  Nether world (_see_ Under-world)\n\n  _Nomocanon de excommunicatis_, 397\n\n  _Nomocanon_ concerning _vrykolakes_, 365, 402 f.\n\n  Non-dissolution (_see also_ Vrykolakes), 366;\n    ancient imprecations of, 417 ff.\n\n  Numbers, lucky and unlucky, 313\n\n  Nymphs (_see also_ Nereids), 130 ff.;\n    not immortal, 156;\n    punishment for violence done to, 584;\n    seizure by, 142\n\n\n  Oedipus, curse pronounced by, 419\n\n  Offerings, how affected by Christianity, 337;\n    to Artemis, 170;\n    to Callicantzari, 201;\n    to _genii_, 274;\n    to gods, motive of, 335, 336 f.;\n    to Nereids, 140;\n    to Saints, 58, 337;\n    to the dead (_see_ Gifts), 493\n\n  Oil, spilling of, as omen, 328\n\n  Olive, foliage or wood used in funerals, 498 f.\n\n  Olympus, as abode of the Fates, 128\n\n  Omens (_see_ Divination);\n    from dripping of water, 121\n\n  Oracle of Amorgos, 332\n\n  Oracles, 305, 331 ff.\n\n  Orchestra, 35\n\n  Oreads, 148\n\n  Orestes, how spurred on to vengeance, 441 f.;\n    with what penalties threatened by Apollo, 421\n\n  Orithyia, 601\n\n  Orphics, 38\n\n  Orphic tablets, 595 f.\n\n  Owl-faced Athene, 207\n\n  Owls, 309, 310, 311\n\n  \u2018Ox-headed man,\u2019 The, (popular story), 278\n\n\n  Pagan customs, inveteracy of, 46;\n    deities, how denoted, 67\n\n  Palmistry, 329\n\n  Pan, 77-9\n\n  Panagia, portraits of, 301\n\n  Paradise, popular conception of, 519\n\n  Parga, evacuation of, 503\n\n  Parthenon, Christian use of, 45;\n    figures in east pediment of, 130\n\n  Patriotism of Greeks, 28\n\n  Patroclus, funeral of, 348 f., 529\n\n  Patroclus\u2019 ghost, 429;\n    why desirous of burial, 516\n\n  Pausanias, on human sacrifice, 353\n\n  Pedantry of Greeks, 30\n\n  Pelasgians, religion of, 522 f.\n\n  Peleus (_see_ Thetis)\n\n  Pentacle, 113, 406\n\n  _Perper\u00eda_, 24\n\n  Persephone (_see also_ Kore, Demeter);\n    \u2018bridal-chamber\u2019 of, 595\n\n  _Pharmakos_, 355 ff.\n\n  Pheneos, Lake, 85\n\n  \u2018_Pheres_,\u2019 243\n\n  Philinnion, story of, 413, 433\n\n  Phlegon, story of _revenant_ narrated by, 412 ff.\n\n  Phlya, mystic rites at, 587\n\n  Physique of Modern Greeks, 26, 27\n\n  Pig\u2019s flesh, taboo, 87;\n    spleen, used for divination, 325\n\n  Plague, personified, 22;\n    personified as trio of female demons, 124\n\n  Pollution, 425;\n    ancient conception of, 451;\n    of bloodguilt, 445\n\n  Polydorus, ghost of, 429\n\n  Polynices, doom of, 420\n\n  Polytheism, compared with monotheism, 40;\n    merits of, 292;\n    modern, 47, 48;\n    popular bent towards, 54\n\n  Pomegranate, symbolic usage of, 558 ff.\n\n  Poseidon, 75-77;\n    as healer, 46\n\n  \u2018Possession,\u2019 by angels or devils, 68;\n    by devils, 144;\n    by the devil, as punishment, 406\n\n  Poultry, divination from, 312\n\n  Prayer, usually accompanied by offerings, 335\n\n  Predestination, 122\n\n  Priest, unlucky to meet, 306\n\n  Prometheus, legend of, 74\n\n  Prometheus\u2019 prophecy of Zeus\u2019 downfall, 552\n\n  Prytaneum of Athens, shape of, 96\n\n  Psellus, on divination, 321, 324\n\n  _Pulcra montium_, 167\n\n  Punishment after death, 419 ff.\n\n  Purification, from bloodguilt, 451, 483;\n    means of, 357\n\n  Purity, confusion of physical and moral, 37\n\n  Pythagoras and Zalmoxis, 351\n\n\n  \u2018Queen of the Mountains,\u2019 The, 163\n\n  \u2018Queen of the Shore,\u2019 The, 163\n\n  Quince, symbolic usage of, 558 f.\n\n\n  Rail (_ornith._), 309\n\n  Rain-charm, 23\n\n  Rain-making, 49\n\n  Ram, as victim, 326\n\n  Rat, unlucky to meet, 307\n\n  Raven, 309\n\n  Re-animation (_see also_ Resuscitation, _Vrykolakes_), 384;\n    of corpses left unburied, 449;\n    of dead body by the soul, 432 ff.\n\n  Religion, Achaean and Pelasgian elements in, 522 f.;\n    character of Greek, 2, 294, 361 f., 545;\n    complexity of Greek, 4\n\n  Religious feeling, dominance of, 5-7;\n    literature, absence of, 2-5\n\n  Resuscitation (_see also_ Re-animation, _Vrykolakes_), 388;\n    of dead persons, how viewed by the Church, 402 ff.;\n    of dead persons, summary of Hellenic belief concerning, 434\n\n  Retribution, doctrine of future, 523;\n    exactitude of, 453 ff.;\n    law of, 435\n\n  _Revenants_ (_see also Vrykolakes_);\n    ancient names for, 462 ff.;\n    ancient Greek instances of, 412 ff.;\n    as Avengers of blood, 434 ff.;\n    as Avengers of blood, summary of ancient belief concerning, 461;\n    as Avengers of blood, their traits transferred to the Furies, 460;\n    called up by sorcerers, 404;\n    contrasted with ghosts, 427;\n    different species of, 384;\n    distinguished from ghosts, 416;\n    exacting their own vengeance, in ancient literature, 438;\n    Greek conception of, 394;\n    harmless type of, 394 f.;\n    Hellenic conception of, 412;\n    in ancient literature, 430, 438 f.\n\n  Rhapsodes, 34\n\n  Richard, le P\u00e8re, on _vrykolakes_, 367\n\n  Ridgeway, on cremation and inhumation, 491\n\n  Right hand, lucky, 312\n\n  \u2018Riotings,\u2019 The, 226\n\n  River-gods, 277, 280\n\n  Rohde, on cremation, 492\n\n  _rosalia_, 45\n\n\n  Sabazian mysteries, 585\n\n  Sabazius, in form of snake, 586\n\n  Sacrifice (_see also_ Human Sacrifice), 335 ff.;\n    at launching of ship, 266;\n    at laying foundation-stone, 264;\n    at opening of quarry, 265;\n    at weddings, 326;\n    human, 262 ff.;\n    to _genii_, 276;\n    to _genii_, Slavonic influence upon, 268\n\n  Sacrifices, classification of, 338\n\n  Sacrificial omens, 319\n\n  Saints, functions of, 55;\n    functions suggested by names of, 56;\n    offerings made to, 58;\n    sometimes reputed immoral or malign, 56;\n    substituted for ancient gods, 43;\n    with titles denoting locality, function, etc., 55;\n    worship of, 42\n\n  S. Artemidos, cures children \u2018struck by the Nereids,\u2019 44;\n    successor to Artemis, 44\n\n  \u2018Saint Beautiful,\u2019 164\n\n  S. Catharine, 303\n\n  S. Demetra, at Eleusis, 80;\n    Eleusinian legend of, 80\n\n  S. Demetrius, successor to Demeter, 44\n\n  S. Dionysius, successor to Dionysus, 43\n\n  S. Elias, responsible for thunder, 52;\n    successor to Helios, 44\n\n  S. Elmo\u2019s light, 286\n\n  S. George, displacing Theseus or Heracles, 45;\n    legend concerning, 261\n\n  \u2018S. John of the Column,\u2019 58\n\n  S. John the Baptist, 37, 304\n\n  S. Luke, as painter, 301\n\n  S. Michael, successor to Hermes, 45\n\n  S. Nicolas, 340;\n    patron of sailors, 287;\n    superseding Poseidon, 75\n\n  Salt-cake, 303\n\n  Salt, dissolving of, as magical ceremony, 388 f.\n\n  Satan, delivering persons unto, 406\n\n  _Saturnalia_ (in Greece), 221\n\n  Satyrs and Centaurs, closely related, 236\n\n  Satyr-dances, 229\n\n  Scylla, replaced by modern Gorgon, 188;\n    parentage of, 173\n\n  Scyros, faith-cure at, 62\n\n  Sea-nymphs, 146\n\n  \u2018Seizure,\u2019 by Nymphs, 142\n\n  Serpents, as incarnations of heroes, 274\n\n  Shadow, as _genius_, 289\n\n  Shadow-victims, 265\n\n  \u2018She-devils,\u2019 Nereids so called, 149\n\n  Sheep-dogs, 32\n\n  Shooting-stars, 286\n\n  Shoulder-blade of sheep, used for divination, 321 ff.\n\n  Sieve, employed to detain Callicantzari, 196-7\n\n  Sieves, divination from, 331\n\n  Sileni, 230\n\n  _Silicernium_, 535\n\n  Sins, deadly, 409 f., 425 ff.\n\n  Sirens, 187\n\n  Slavonic immigrations, 26;\n    influence on belief in vampires, 376 ff.\n\n  Sleep and Death, 543\n\n  Sleeping in churches, 61\n\n  Small-pox, personified, 22\n\n  Snake, as _genius_ of Acropolis, 260;\n    auspicious in house, 328;\n    bearded, 274;\n    unlucky to meet on road, 307\n\n  Snakes, as manifestations of deities, 275\n\n  Snake-form, assumed by _genii_ (_see_ Genii)\n\n  Sneezing, as omen, 330\n\n  Socrates\u2019 familiar spirit, 291\n\n  Sophocles, popular form of imprecation utilised by, 419\n\n  Sorcery, punishment of, 409\n\n  Sosipolis, story of, 272\n\n  Souls (_see_ Ghosts)\n\n  Soul and body, relations of, 361 ff., 526 ff.;\n    re-union of, 538\n\n  Soul-cult, Rohde\u2019s theory of, 529, note 1\n\n  Soul, emancipation of, 515 f.;\n    Homeric conception of, 517 f.;\n    Socrates\u2019 teaching concerning, 516\n\n  Spitting, to avert malign influences, 14, 307\n\n  Stars, baneful influence of, 10, 11\n\n  Stoat, unlucky to meet, 307\n\n  Striges, 179-184, 211;\n    Italian origin of, 180;\n    intercourse of devils with, 416;\n    precautions against, 181;\n    prey upon children, 181;\n    stories concerning, 182-3\n\n  Strigla, 282\n\n  Sucking-pig, as victim, 483\n\n  Suicides, 408\n\n  Sun, relics of worship of, 44\n\n  Surrogate Victims, 355\n\n  Swallow-song, 35\n\n  Sympathetic magic, 264\n\n\n  Taboo, 87, 357\n\n  Taenarus, descent to Hades at, 45\n\n  Tartarus, 98\n\n  _Telonia_, 284;\n    local usages of name, 287\n\n  Temples, as treasuries, 96;\n    converted to churches, 45\n\n  Tenos, Church of Annunciation at, 45, 58;\n    faith-cures at, 60;\n    miraculous _icon_ of, 301\n\n  Thargelia, 356\n\n  \u2018The Beautiful One of the Earth,\u2019 97\n\n  \u2018The Great Lady,\u2019 163\n\n  \u2018The Lady Beautiful,\u2019 163\n\n  \u2018The Lamia of the Sea,\u2019 171\n\n  \u2018The Lamia of the Shore,\u2019 171\n\n  \u2018The Mistress,\u2019 89;\n    marriage of, 97\n\n  Theseum, Christian use of, 45\n\n  Theseus, 469\n\n  Thesmophoria, 87\n\n  Thetis, modern parallel to story of, 137\n\n  Thracians, funeral-rites of, 500\n\n  Thread of life, 124\n\n  Three, ominous number, 307 (note 1), 487\n\n  Thunderbolt, 72\n\n  Thunder-god, 50\n\n  Timothy, Bishop of Ephesus, martyrdom of, 222\n\n  Titans, story of, 73\n\n  Titles of saints, sources of, 55\n\n  Tolerance of pagans, 42\n\n  Torches, at funerals, 505 ff.\n\n  Traditions, popular and literary, 432\n\n  Trance, 69\n\n  Transformation, magic power of, 86, 249;\n    power of, attributed to _genii_, 276;\n    power of, how indicated in Art, 251\n\n  Transmigration of souls, Plato\u2019s theory of, 604 f.\n\n  Treasure, guarded by dragons, 281\n\n  Treasury of Atreus, original use of, 94\n\n  Tree, supporting the world, 155\n\n  Tree-nymphs, 151;\n    confused with water-nymphs, 153;\n    woodcutters\u2019 precautions against, 158\n\n  Trees, not to be cut or peeled on certain days in August, 152\n\n  Tuesday, unlucky day, 313\n\n  Tutelary _genii_, fed on honey-cakes, 274\n\n  \u2018Twelve Days,\u2019 The, 221\n\n  Twitching of eyebrow, as omen, 329\n\n\n  Unburied (_see_ Burial, lack of)\n\n  Under-world (_see also_ Future life);\n    Homeric conception of, 517 f.;\n    modern presentment of, 549\n\n  Uninitiated, future fate of the, 563 f., 592\n\n  Unmarried, funeral-rite of the, 556;\n    future fate of the, 592\n\n  \u2018Unsleeping Lamp,\u2019 The, 540\n\n\n  Vampires (_see Vrykolakes_);\n    characteristics of Slavonic, 387;\n    modern Greek conception of, 363 ff.;\n    Slavonic treatment of, 410 f.\n\n  Vampirism, causes of, 375, 407 ff.;\n    imprecations of, 387;\n    instances of, 367 ff.;\n    widespread belief in, 371 ff.\n\n  Vendetta, 440 ff.\n\n  Vengeance for blood-guilt, extended to whole communities, 459;\n    for homicide, Delphic tradition concerning, 444 ff.\n\n  Vengeance for murder, effected by a curse, 446 f.;\n    effected by demonic agents, 448;\n    exacted by murdered person, 435 ff.;\n    incumbent on next-of-kin, 440;\n    legally incumbent on next-of-kin, 443 f.;\n    methods of, 453 ff.\n\n  Vesta, temple of, 96\n\n  Victim, as messenger, 340 ff.;\n    elevated to rank of _genius_, 267 ff., 276\n\n  Vintage-festival, 35\n\n  Virgin, worship of the, 51\n\n  Virginity, consecrated to river-god, 592\n\n  Virility, affected by magical spell, 19\n\n  Visualisation, peasants\u2019 powers of, 47\n\n  Votive offerings, character of, 58\n\n  Vows, 59\n\n  _Vrykolakas_, Greek equivalents for word, 381 f.;\n    how originally employed in Greek, 378;\n    occasionally used in sense of \u2018were-wolf,\u2019 379 f.;\n    origin of word, 377;\n    original meaning of word, 377 f.;\n    Slavonic forms of word, 377 (note 2)\n\n  _Vrykolakes_ (_see also_ Incorruptibility, Resuscitation, _Revenants_,\n        Vampires, Vampirism), 361 ff.;\n    attitude of authorities towards belief in, 371 f.;\n    belief in them not wholly Slavonic, 381;\n    capable of sexual commerce, 415 f.;\n    classes of persons liable to become, 375, 407 ff.;\n    close resemblance of ancient _revenants_ to, 458;\n    corporeal nature of, 376;\n    cremation of, substitutes for, 488;\n    ecclesiastical view of, 386, 396 ff.;\n    Greek treatment of, 410 f., 502;\n    Hellenic element in conception of, 407;\n    how disposed of, 371 f.;\n    lineage traced from, 416;\n    modern Greek conception of, 363 ff.;\n    _nomocanon_ concerning, 365, 402;\n    not to be confused with ghosts, 376;\n    occasional barbarities inflicted upon, 412;\n    original Greek type of, 391 ff.;\n    peculiar method of treating, 540;\n    recent cases of the burning of, 374;\n    recent Cretan account of, 372;\n    resuscitated by the Devil, 405 f.;\n    Slavonic influence upon conception of, 376 ff.;\n    stories of, 368 ff.;\n    widespread belief in, 371 ff., 374\n\n  Vultures, 309\n\n\n  \u2018Wanderers,\u2019 473\n\n  Washing, prohibited on certain days of August, 152\n\n  Water, immortal, 281;\n    miraculous, 60;\n    oracular property of, 334;\n    pouring out of, as magic rite, 520;\n    salt, bars passage of supernatural beings, 368 (note 1), 372;\n    \u2018speechless,\u2019 304, 331;\n    spilling of, as omen, 328\n    supplied daily to the dead, 539;\n\n  \u2018Water-bearer,\u2019 the, 556, 592 f.\n\n  Water-nymphs, 159;\n    confused with tree-nymphs, 153;\n    precautions against, 160\n\n  Water-pitcher (_see also_ Water-bearer), 594\n\n  Water-spout, caused by Lamia of the Sea, 52;\n    superstitions concerning, 172\n\n  Weasel, unlucky to meet, 307;\n    why unlucky to see, 327\n\n  Weather, chief province of God, 51\n\n  Wedding, \u2018The Sacred,\u2019 599 f.;\n    in Hades, The, (ballad), 548\n\n  Wedding-customs (_see_ Marriage-customs)\n\n  Wedding-dress, as funeral-garb of betrothed girls or young wives, 557\n\n  Weddings, precautions at, 13;\n    precautions against magic at, 20;\n    sacrifice and divination at, 326\n\n  Wedding-scenes on funeral-monuments, 597 f., 601 f.\n\n  Were-wolves, 239;\n    and vampires, 377 f.;\n    become vampires after death, 385\n\n  Whirlwinds, caused by nymphs, 52, 150;\n    safeguard against, 150\n\n  Winds, personified, 52\n\n  Wine, passed from left to right, 312;\n    spilling of, as omen, 328\n\n  Winter festivals, 221 ff.\n\n  Witch, as rain-maker in Santorini, 49\n\n  Witchcraft, male and female exponents of, 15, 16\n\n  Witches, 15\n\n  Woodpecker, 309\n\n  Wooing, how conducted, 558\n\n  Wren, 309\n\n\n  Zalmoxis, 350 f.\n\n  Zeus, 72-74;\n    Lycaean, 352;\n    Meilichios, 275;\n    Prostropaeus, 481;\n    survival of name, 74\n\n\n\n\nINDEX OF GREEK WORDS AND PHRASES\n\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7, 603\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 68\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b8\u03c9\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6, 288\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5, 289\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6, 289\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, 289\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, 289\n\n  \u1f01\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, 197\n\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b9\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 147, 176\n\n  \u1f05\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2, 451\n\n  \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03af \u03bc\u03b1\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f31, 70\n\n  \u1f00\u03b4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c6\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 208\n\n  \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 68, 283\n\n  \u1f08\u03ba\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, 116\n\n  \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1fc6\u03bb\u03b9, \u03c4\u1f78, 508\n\n  \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, 472, 474\n\n  \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, 474\n\n  \u1f00\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 (_see_ Alastor), 462 f., 465 ff.\n\n  \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, 204, 288\n\n  \u1f00\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9, 482\n\n  \u1f08\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, 155\n\n  \u1f04\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, 381, 397\n\n  \u1f00\u03bc\u03c0\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03b1, 19\n\n  \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03b9\u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2, 600\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 382\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u1fb3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 142\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf, 381\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 205 (note 1)\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03c2, 150\n\n  \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b3\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 150\n\n  \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 (proverb), 281\n\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1, 306\n\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, 445\n\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03b6\u03c9 (in Soph. _O. C._ 1383 ff.), 419\n\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, 569\n\n  \u1f08\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 276\n\n  \u1f00\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 518\n\n  \u1f04\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, 569\n\n  \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03ba\u03b9, 72\n\n  \u1f00\u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, \u03bf\u1f31, 144\n\n  \u1f08\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1, 118\n\n\n  \u03b2\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2, 378\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1, 583\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6, \u1f21, 163\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd, \u1f21, 163\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03c9, 9\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b1, 9\n\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03af, 14\n\n  \u03b2\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u032f\u03ac, 9 (note 2)\n\n  \u03b2\u03cc\u03bc\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2, 378\n\n  \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, 364\n\n  \u0392\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2, 21\n\n  \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, 364\n\n  \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9, 390\n\n\n  \u0393\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 148, 177\n\n  \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1, 531\n\n  \u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03af, 583\n\n  \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 147, 176\n\n  \u0393\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03cc\u03b2\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1, 178\n\n  \u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03c5\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c0\u03b9\u03c2, 207\n\n  \u0393\u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, 184\n\n  \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c8\u03af\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u039c\u03bf\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd, 126\n\n\n  \u03b4\u1fb3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03af\u03b1, 566\n\n  \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f41, 75\n\n  \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, 569\n\n  \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 )( \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af, 41\n\n  \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, 68\n\n  \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b2\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd, 79\n\n  \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03be\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, 127\n\n  \u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9, 397\n\n  \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd, 19\n\n  \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, 90\n\n  \u03b4\u03ad\u03c9, 397\n\n  \u0394\u03b7\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03b9, 579\n\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 149\n\n  \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2, 280\n\n  \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd (proverb), 435\n\n  \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 151\n\n  \u03b4\u03c1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 151\n\n\n  \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, 61\n\n  \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03c9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 68\n\n  \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ce\u03bd\u03b7, 35\n\n  \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd, 424\n\n  \u1f10\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 530, 531\n\n  \u1f14\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 531, 532\n\n  \u1f10\u03bd\u03cc\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c3\u03cd\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9, 298\n\n  \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 143\n\n  \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 143\n\n  \u1f10\u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, 67\n\n  \u1f11\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 208\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1, 566\n\n  \u1f10\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 578\n\n  \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2, 603\n\n  \u1f1c\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f41, 118\n\n  \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd, 600\n\n  \u03b5\u1f54\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, 439\n\n  \u03b5\u1f50\u03c1\u03ce\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, 518\n\n  \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u1fb1\u03c0\u2019 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9, 143\n\n\n  \u03b6\u03b1\u03b2\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, 146\n\n  \u03b6\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1, 69\n\n  \u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1, 69\n\n\n  \u0398\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, personification of, 115\n\n  \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2, modern applications of word, 48\n\n  \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2, 566\n\n  \u03b8\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, 335\n\n  \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, 335\n\n  \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03b9, 530\n\n\n  \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, 591\n\n  \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b1, 566\n\n  \u1f31\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 235\n\n\n  \u1f30\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5, 289\n\n  \u1f34\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, 289\n\n  \u1f34\u03c5\u03b3\u03be, 18\n\n  \u1f30\u03c7\u03b8\u03c5\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 235\n\n\n  \u03ba\u03ac\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 208\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\u1fc7, 568\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03ac\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 355\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03ca\u03bc\u03c0\u03af\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 209\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 205\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u03c2, 153\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f91, 132\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, to whom applied, 171\n\n  \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03ae, \u1f21 \u1f05\u03b3\u03b9\u032f\u03b1, 164\n\n  \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f21, 166\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u032f\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u1fc6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 215\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 220\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03b1\u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 213\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, 213\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, 215\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03bd\u03b1, 200\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, derivation of, 232 ff.;\n    dialectic varieties of form of, 211 ff.;\n    proposed derivations of, 215 ff.;\n    table of dialectic forms of, 214\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6, 200\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 132\n\n  \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03b4\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 192\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03af, \u03bf\u1f31, 70\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u0390\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u032f\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, 289\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u1f91, 125, 132\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9, \u03bf\u1f31, 70\n\n  \u039a\u03ac\u03bb\u03c9, \u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac, 163\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 223, 227\n\n  \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 219\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, 487\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 69\n\n  \u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 = \u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 233\n\n  \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03c6\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1, 17\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 (_see_ Vrykolakes), 372\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c2, 382\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03cd\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 535 (note 4)\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 219\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u1fb6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 193\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 223, 227\n\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c8\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 203\n\n  \u039a\u03ae\u03c1, 289\n\n  \u03ba\u03af\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2, 311\n\n  \u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 (epithet of Hermes), 306\n\n  \u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f41, 304\n\n  \u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, 298\n\n  \u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd, 304\n\n  \u03ba\u03bd\u03ce\u03b4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1, 460\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 542\n\n  \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03b2\u03b1, 487, 535\n\n  \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, 596\n\n  \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2, 129\n\n  \u03ba\u03cc\u03c0\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03bb\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 (proverbial), 124\n\n  \u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2, 129\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1, 331\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1, 310, 311\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u032f\u03b1, 322\n\n  \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c3\u03bf\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f41, 207\n\n  \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03b5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2, 518\n\n  \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 518\n\n  \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03ac, \u1f21 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b7, 163\n\n  \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f21, 89\n\n  \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6 \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03c3\u1fc6 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f21, 54, 91\n\n  \u03ba\u03c9\u03bb\u03bf\u03b2\u03b5\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 192\n\n\n  \u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, \u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf, 381\n\n  \u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03b2\u03b1\u03af, 530\n\n  \u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 556, 594\n\n  \u039b\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, 352\n\n  \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, 241, 384\n\n  \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 203, 215\n\n  \u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 239 f.\n\n  \u03bb\u03c5\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9, 397\n\n  \u03bb\u03cd\u03c9, 397\n\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 (proverb), 346\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03ce\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03b2\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 (proverbial), 124\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b1, 532\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, 532\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, 156\n\n  \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f1c\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1, \u1f21, 118\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae, 298\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, 435 f., 442\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, 359\n\n  \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc, 9\n\n  \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u032f\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1, 9\n\n  \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ac\u03b6\u03c9, 9\n\n  \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1, 94\n\n  \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1, 533\n\n  \u03bc\u03ae\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1, 447, 449\n\n  \u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, 425, 451\n\n  \u03bc\u03b9\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1 (_see_ Miastor), 462 ff.\n\n  \u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1, 487, 534\n\n  \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1, 289\n\n  \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 120, 122, etc.\n\n  \u039c\u03cc\u03c1\u03b1 (or \u039c\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1), \u1f21, 174\n\n  \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 347\n\n  \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1 (_see_ Dirges)\n\n  \u03bc\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2, 451\n\n\n  \u03bd\u1f70 \u03c6\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, 14\n\n  \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1, 531\n\n  \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03ac\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf, 148\n\n  \u039d\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03ca\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 130\n\n  \u039d\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u0390\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, 149\n\n  \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 134\n\n  \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u03b3\u03bd\u03ad\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 134\n\n  \u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03ca\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 134\n\n  \u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b7\u03c2, 260\n\n  \u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c0\u03af, 370\n\n  \u03bd\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03b7, 131\n\n  \u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03cc\u03bb\u03b7\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, 142\n\n  \u03bd\u03c5\u03c6\u03af\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1, 328\n\n  \u039d\u03c5\u03c7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 195\n\n\n  \u03be\u03b1\u03c6\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 68\n\n  \u03be\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 160\n\n  \u03be\u03b5\u03c6\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9, 317 (note 1)\n\n  \u03be\u03cc\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1, 226\n\n  \u03be\u03cc\u03c1\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, \u03be\u03bf\u03c1\u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03af, 14\n\n  \u03be\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 67, 207\n\n\n  \u1f41 \u03b2\u03c1\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03ac \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 (proverb), 387\n\n  \u1f41 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2, 586\n\n  \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 298, 327\n\n  \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03af, 260\n\n  \u03bf\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2, 308\n\n  \u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 235, 237 f.\n\n  \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2, 307\n\n  \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u1f91 \u039c\u03bf\u03af\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03be\u03b5\u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd (proverbial saying), 122\n\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac, 67, 207\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, 448\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 298, 329\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 34\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c0\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1, 24\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1, 533\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 142\n\n  \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, 195\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c2, 96, 587\n\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2, 587\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd, 113\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03bb\u03c6\u03b1, 113\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03ba\u03b9, 109, 286\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, 531, 532\n\n  \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1, 24\n\n  \u03a0\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (title of S. George), 261\n\n  \u03c0\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 142\n\n  \u03c0\u03af\u03b6\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1, 70\n\n  \u03a0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 192, 204\n\n  \u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1, 148\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, 497\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 558\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 558\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9, \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, 479\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, 462 f., 479 ff.\n\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, 591\n\n\n  \u1fec\u1f31\u03b6\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03c2, \u1f41, 304 (note 3)\n\n  \u1fe5\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03b9\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 224, 226\n\n  \u1fe5\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1, 45\n\n\n  \u03c3\u03b1\u03b2\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, 288\n\n  \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, 488 (notes 1 and 2)\n\n  \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b6\u03c9, 20\n\n  \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 382\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 (_see_ \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2), 213\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b6\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, 215\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03c3\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, 215\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03ae, 35\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 203, 205\n\n  \u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03c1\u03b4\u03bf \u2019\u03c3\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u032f\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5, 14\n\n  \u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1, 69\n\n  \u03c3\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03c7\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1, 325\n\n  \u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03af, 530\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u032f\u03ac (\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1) (_see_ Genii);\n    comprehensive usage of, 69\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1, development of meaning of, 255 ff.;\n    \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u03c4\u1f70 (St Paul), 255-6\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc, 548\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9, 267\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd, 256\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, 256\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, 258, 382\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03b9, 144\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 (\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03b3\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u1fe6\u03b3\u03b3\u03b1\u03b9), 180-1\n\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03bb\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9, 180\n\n  \u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2, 34\n\n  \u03c3\u03c6\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, 336\n\n  \u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03c4\u03ac, 68\n\n  \u03c3\u03ce\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03bb\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 (proverbial), 124\n\n\n  \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, \u03c4\u03ac, 226\n\n  \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 (Aesch. _Choeph._ 288), 421, 456\n\n  \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9, 591\n\n  \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, \u03b1\u1f31, 590\n\n  \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7, 553\n\n  \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, comprehensive usage of, 69\n\n  \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac, 286\n\n  \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u039b\u03ac\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 (proverb), 174\n\n  \u03c4\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2, 260\n\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, 531\n\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1, 530, 532\n\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f91, 85\n\n  \u03c4\u03c3\u03af\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 311\n\n  \u03c4\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03ac, 192\n\n  \u03c4\u03c3\u03af\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, 68\n\n  \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, 365, 370, 381, 385 f., 400\n\n  \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (_see also_ \u03c4\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2), 400\n\n  \u03a4\u03cd\u03c7\u03b7, 289\n\n\n  \u1f51\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, 593\n\n\n  \u03a6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2, \u1f41, 304 (note 3)\n\n  \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 68\n\n  \u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, \u1f41, 355\n\n  \u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78, 14\n\n  \u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, 68\n\n  \u03a6\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2, 245, 250\n\n\n  \u03c7\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9, 281 (note 2)\n\n  \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03b9, 310\n\n  \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2, 97\n\n  \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, 97\n\n  \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, \u03bf\u1f31, 70\n\n  \u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03ce\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, 114\n\n  \u03a7\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, 114\n\n  \u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, 298\n\n  \u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, meaning of, 161 (note 2)\n\n  \u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1, 35\n\n  \u03c7\u03bf\u03b1\u03af, 530\n\n\n  \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03cc\u03c0\u03b7\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1, 534\n\n\n  \u1f60\u03bc\u03bf\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03b1, 321\n\n  \u1f60\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac, 331\n\n  \u1f65\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b7\u1f57\u03c1\u03b5, 143\n\n\nCAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\n\nThe following apparent errors have been corrected:\n\np. 58 \"sanctuary in person\" changed to \"sanctuary in person.\"\n\np. 60 (note) footnote number inserted\n\np. 85 (note) \"Conon, _Narrat._ 15\" changed to \"Conon, _Narrat._ 15.\"\n\np. 99 (note) footnote number inserted\n\np. 105 (note) \"'sorrowful.\" changed to \"'sorrowful.'\"\n\np. 148 \"\u039c\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.\" changed to \"\u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.\"\n\np. 151 \"the honeyed ones[365].\u2019\" changed to \"'the honeyed ones[365].\u2019\"\n\np. 360 \"guarding and tending of Love\u2019\" changed to \"guarding and tending\nof Love.\u2019\"\n\np. 476 (note) \"cap. 15 (p. 418)\" changed to \"cap. 15 (p. 418).\"\n\np. 608 \"smaller species of 193\" changed to \"smaller species of, 193\"\n\np. 609 \"time required for\" entry placed in alphabetical order\n\np. 616 \"supplied daily to the dead\" entry placed in alphabetical order\n\nInconsistent or archaic spelling, hyphenation and punctuation have\notherwise been kept as printed.","title":"Modern Greek Folklore and Ancient Greek Religion: A Study in Survivals","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":260169}