In France also the Corn-wolf appears at harvest. Thus they call out

to the reaper of the last corn, "You will catch the Wolf." Near

Chambéry they form a ring round the last standing corn, and cry,

"The Wolf is in there." In Finisterre, when the reaping draws near

an end, the harvesters cry, "There is the Wolf; we will catch him."

Each takes a swath to reap, and he who finishes first calls out,

"I've caught the Wolf." In Guyenne, when the last corn has been

reaped, they lead a wether all round the field. It is called "the

Wolf of the field." Its horns are decked with a wreath of flowers

and corn-ears, and its neck and body are also encircled with

garlands and ribbons. All the reapers march, singing, behind it.

Then it is killed on the field. In this part of France the last

sheaf is called the _coujoulage,_ which, in the patois, means a

wether. Hence the killing of the wether represents the death of the

corn-spirit, considered as present in the last sheaf; but two

different conceptions of the corn-spirit--as a wolf and as a

wether--are mixed up together.

Sometimes it appears to be thought that the Wolf, caught in the last

corn, lives during the winter in the farmhouse, ready to renew his

activity as corn-spirit in the spring. Hence at midwinter, when the

lengthening days begin to herald the approach of spring, the Wolf

makes his appearance once more. In Poland a man, with a wolf's skin

thrown over his head, is led about at Christmas; or a stuffed wolf

is carried about by persons who collect money. There are facts which

point to an old custom of leading about a man enveloped in leaves

and called the Wolf, while his conductors collected money.

3. The Corn-spirit as a Cock

ANOTHER form which the corn-spirit often assumes is that of a cock.

In Austria children are warned against straying in the corn-fields,

because the Corn-cock sits there, and will peck their eyes out. In

North Germany they say that "the Cock sits in the last sheaf"; and

at cutting the last corn the reapers cry, "Now we will chase out the

Cock." When it is cut they say, "We have caught the Cock." At

Braller, in Transylvania, when the reapers come to the last patch of

corn, they cry, "Here we shall catch the Cock." At Fürstenwalde,

when the last sheaf is about to be bound, the master releases a

cock, which he has brought in a basket, and lets it run over the

field. All the harvesters chase it till they catch it. Elsewhere the

harvesters all try to seize the last corn cut; he who succeeds in

grasping it must crow, and is called Cock. Among the Wends it is or

used to be customary for the farmer to hide a live cock under the

last sheaf as it lay on the field; and when the corn was being

gathered up, the harvester who lighted upon this sheaf had a right

to keep the cock, provided he could catch it. This formed the close

of the harvest-festival and was known as "the Cock-catching," and

the beer which was served out to the reapers at this time went by

the name of "Cock-beer." The last sheaf is called Cock, Cock-sheaf,

Harvest-cock, Harvest-hen, Autumn-hen. A distinction is made between

a Wheat-cock, Bean-cock, and so on, according to the crop. At

Wünschensuhl, in Thüringen, the last sheaf is made into the shape of

a cock, and called the Harvest-cock. A figure of a cock, made of

wood, pasteboard, ears of corn, or flowers, is borne in front of the

harvest-waggon, especially in Westphalia, where the cock carries in

his beak fruits of the earth of all kinds. Sometimes the image of

the cock is fastened to the top of a May-tree on the last

harvest-waggon. Elsewhere a live cock, or a figure of one, is

attached to a harvest-crown and carried on a pole. In Galicia and

elsewhere this live cock is fastened to the garland of corn-ears or

flowers, which the leader of the women-reapers carries on her head

as she marches in front of the harvest procession. In Silesia a live

cock is presented to the master on a plate. The harvest-supper is

called Harvest-cock, Stubble-cock, etc., and a chief dish at it, at

least in some places, is a cock. If a waggoner upsets a

harvest-waggon, it is said that "he has spilt the Harvest-cock," and

he loses the cock, that is, the harvest-supper. The harvest-waggon,

with the figure of the cock on it, is driven round the farmhouse

before it is taken to the barn. Then the cock is nailed over or at

the side of the house-door, or on the gable, and remains there till

next harvest. In East Friesland the person who gives the last stroke

at threshing is called the Clucking-hen, and grain is strewed before

him as if he were a hen.

Again, the corn-spirit is killed in the form of a cock. In parts of

Germany, Hungary, Poland, and Picardy the reapers place a live cock

in the corn which is to be cut last, and chase it over the field, or

bury it up to the neck in the ground; afterwards they strike off its

head with a sickle or scythe. In many parts of Westphalia, when the

harvesters bring the wooden cock to the farmer, he gives them a live

cock, which they kill with whips or sticks, or behead with an old

sword, or throw into the barn to the girls, or give to the mistress

to cook. It the Harvest-cock has not been spilt--that is, if no

waggon has been upset--the harvesters have the right to kill the

farmyard cock by throwing stones at it or beheading it. Where this

custom has fallen into disuse, it is still common for the farmer's

wife to make cockie-leekie for the harvesters, and to show them the

head of the cock which has been killed for the soup. In the

neighbourhood of Klausenburg, Transylvania, a cock is buried on the

harvest-field in the earth, so that only its head appears. A young

man then takes a scythe and cuts off the cock's head at a single

sweep. If he fails to do this, he is called the Red Cock for a whole

year, and people fear that next year's crop will be bad. Near

Udvarhely, in Transylvania, a live cock is bound up in the last

sheaf and killed with a spit. It is then skinned. The flesh is

thrown away, but the skin and feathers are kept till next year; and

in spring the grain from the last sheaf is mixed with the feathers

of the cock and scattered on the field which is to be tilled.

Nothing could set in a clearer light the identification of the cock

with the spirit of the corn. By being tied up in the last sheaf and

killed, the cock is identified with the corn, and its death with the

cutting of the corn. By keeping its feathers till spring, then

mixing them with the seed-corn taken from the very sheaf in which

the bird had been bound, and scattering the feathers together with

the seed over the field, the identity of the bird with the corn is

again emphasised, and its quickening and fertilising power, as an

embodiment of the corn-spirit, is intimated in the plainest manner.

Thus the corn-spirit, in the form of a cock, is killed at harvest,

but rises to fresh life and activity in spring. Again, the

equivalence of the cock to the corn is expressed, hardly less

plainly, in the custom of burying the bird in the ground, and

cutting off its head (like the ears of corn) with the scythe.

4. The Corn-spirit as a Hare

ANOTHER common embodiment of the corn-spirit is the hare. In

Galloway the reaping of the last standing corn is called "cutting

the Hare." The mode of cutting it is as follows. When the rest of

the corn has been reaped, a handful is left standing to form the

Hare. It is divided into three parts and plaited, and the ears are

tied in a knot. The reapers then retire a few yards and each throws

his or her sickle in turn at the Hare to cut it down. It must be cut

below the knot, and the reapers continue to throw their sickles at

it, one after the other, until one of them succeeds in severing the

stalks below the knot. The Hare is then carried home and given to a

maidservant in the kitchen, who places it over the kitchen-door on

the inside. Sometimes the Hare used to be thus kept till the next

harvest. In the parish of Minnigaff, when the Hare was cut, the

unmarried reapers ran home with all speed, and the one who arrived

first was the first to be married. In Germany also one of the names

for the last sheaf is the Hare. Thus in some parts of Anhalt, when

the corn has been reaped and only a few stalks are left standing,

they say, "The Hare will soon come," or the reapers cry to each

other, "Look how the Hare comes jumping out." In East Prussia they

say that the Hare sits in the last patch of standing corn, and must

be chased out by the last reaper. The reapers hurry with their work,

each being anxious not to have "to chase out the Hare"; for the man

who does so, that is, who cuts the last corn, is much laughed at. At

Aurich, as we have seen, an expression for cutting the last corn is

"to cut off the Hare's tail." "He is killing the Hare" is commonly

said of the man who cuts the last corn in Germany, Sweden, Holland,

France, and Italy. In Norway the man who is thus said to "kill the

Hare" must give "hare's blood," in the form of brandy, to his

fellows to drink. In Lesbos, when the reapers are at work in two

neighbouring fields, each party tries to finish first in order to

drive the Hare into their neighbour's field; the reapers who succeed

in doing so believe that next year the crop will be better. A small

sheaf of corn is made up and kept beside the holy picture till next

harvest.

5. The Corn-spirit as a Cat

AGAIN, the corn-spirit sometimes takes the form of a cat. Near Kiel

children are warned not to go into the corn-fields because "the Cat

sits there." In the Eisenach Oberland they are told "the Corn-cat

will come and fetch you," "the Corn-cat goes in the corn." In some

parts of Silesia at mowing the last corn they say, "The Cat is

caught"; and at threshing, the man who gives the last stroke is

called the Cat. In the neighbourhood of Lyons the last sheaf and the

harvest-supper are both called the Cat. About Vesoul when they cut

the last corn they say, "We have the Cat by the tail." At Briançon,

in Dauphiné, at the beginning of reaping, a cat is decked out with

ribbons, flowers, and ears of corn. It is called the Cat of the

ball-skin (_le chat de peau de balle_). If a reaper is wounded at

his work, they make the cat lick the wound. At the close of the

reaping the cat is again decked out with ribbons and ears of corn;

then they dance and make merry. When the dance is over the girls

solemnly strip the cat of its finery. At Grüneberg, in Silesia, the

reaper who cuts the last corn goes by the name of the Tom-cat. He is

enveloped in rye-stalks and green withes, and is furnished with a

long plaited tail. Sometimes as a companion he has a man similarly

dressed, who is called the (female) Cat. Their duty is to run after

people whom they see and to beat them with a long stick. Near Amiens

the expression for finishing the harvest is, "They are going to kill

the Cat"; and when the last corn is cut they kill a cat in the

farmyard. At threshing, in some parts of France, a live cat is

placed under the last bundle of corn to be threshed, and is struck

dead with the flails. Then on Sunday it is roasted and eaten as a

holiday dish. In the Vosges Mountains the close of haymaking or

harvest is called "catching the cat," "killing the dog," or more

rarely "catching the hare." The cat, the dog, or the hare is said to

be fat or lean according as the crop is good or bad. The man who

cuts the last handful of hay or of wheat is said to catch the cat or

the hare or to kill the dog.

6. The Corn-spirit as a Goat

FURTHER, the corn-spirit often appears in the form of a goat. In

some parts of Prussia, when the corn bends before the wind, they

say, "The Goats are chasing each other," "the wind is driving the

Goats through the corn," "the Goats are browsing there," and they

expect a very good harvest. Again they say, "The Oats-goat is

sitting in the oats-field," "the Corn-goat is sitting in the

rye-field." Children are warned not to go into the corn-fields to

pluck the blue corn-flowers, or amongst the beans to pluck pods,

because the Rye-goat, the Corn-goat, the Oats-goat, or the Bean-goat

is sitting or lying there, and will carry them away or kill them.

When a harvester is taken sick or lags behind his fellows at their

work, they call out, "The Harvest-goat has pushed him," "he has been

pushed by the Corn-goat." In the neighbourhood of Braunsberg (East

Prussia) at binding the oats every harvester makes haste "lest the

Corn-goat push him." At Oefoten, in Norway, each reaper has his

allotted patch to reap. When a reaper in the middle has not finished

reaping his piece after his neighbours have finished theirs, they

say of him, "He remains on the island." And if the laggard is a man,

they imitate the cry with which they call a he-goat; if a woman, the

cry with which they call a she-goat. Near Straubing, in Lower

Bavaria, it is said of the man who cuts the last corn that "he has

the Corn-goat, or the Wheat-goat, or the Oats-goat," according to

the crop. Moreover, two horns are set up on the last heap of corn,

and it is called "the horned Goat." At Kreutzburg, East Prussia,

they call out to the woman who is binding the last sheaf, "The Goat

is sitting in the sheaf." At Gablingen, in Swabia, when the last

field of oats upon a farm is being reaped, the reapers carve a goat

out of wood. Ears of oats are inserted in its nostrils and mouth,

and it is adorned with garlands of flowers. It is set up on the

field and called the Oats-goat. When the reaping approaches an end,

each reaper hastens to finish his piece first; he who is the last to

finish gets the Oats-goat. Again, the last sheaf is itself called

the Goat. Thus, in the valley of the Wiesent, Bavaria, the last

sheaf bound on the field is called the Goat, and they have a

proverb, "The field must bear a goat." At Spachbrücken, in Hesse,

the last handful of corn which is cut is called the Goat, and the

man who cuts it is much ridiculed. At Dürrenbüchig and about Mosbach

in Baden the last sheaf is also called the Goat. Sometimes the last

sheaf is made up in the form of a goat, and they say, "The Goat is

sitting in it." Again, the person who cuts or binds the last sheaf

is called the Goat. Thus, in parts of Mecklenburg they call out to

the woman who binds the last sheaf, "You are the Harvest-goat." Near

Uelzen, in Hanover, the harvest festival begins with "the bringing

of the Harvest-goat"; that is, the woman who bound the last sheaf is

wrapt in straw, crowned with a harvest-wreath, and brought in a

wheel-barrow to the village, where a round dance takes place. About

Luneburg, also, the woman who binds the last corn is decked with a

crown of corn-ears and is called the Corn-goat. At Münzesheim in

Baden the reaper who cuts the last handful of corn or oats is called

the Corn-goat or the Oats-goat. In the Canton St. Gall, Switzerland,

the person who cuts the last handful of corn on the field, or drives

the last harvest-waggon to the barn, is called the Corn-goat or the

Rye-goat, or simply the Goat. In the Canton Thurgau he is called

Corn-goat; like a goat he has a bell hung round his neck, is led in

triumph, and drenched with liquor. In parts of Styria, also, the man

who cuts the last corn is called Corn-goat, Oats-goat, or the like.

As a rule, the man who thus gets the name of Corn-goat has to bear

it a whole year till the next harvest.

According to one view, the corn-spirit, who has been caught in the

form of a goat or otherwise, lives in the farmhouse or barn over

winter. Thus, each farm has its own embodiment of the corn-spirit.

But, according to another view, the corn-spirit is the genius or

deity, not of the corn of one farm only, but of all the corn. Hence

when the corn on one farm is all cut, he flees to another where

there is still corn left standing. This idea is brought out in a

harvest-custom which was formerly observed in Skye. The farmer who

first finished reaping sent a man or woman with a sheaf to a

neighbouring farmer who had not finished; the latter in his turn,

when he had finished, sent on the sheaf to his neighbour who was

still reaping; and so the sheaf made the round of the farms till all

the corn was cut. The sheaf was called the _goabbir bhacagh,_ that

is, the Cripple Goat. The custom appears not to be extinct at the

present day, for it was reported from Skye not very many years ago.

The corn-spirit was probably thus represented as lame because he had

been crippled by the cutting of the corn. Sometimes the old woman

who brings home the last sheaf must limp on one foot.

But sometimes the corn-spirit, in the form of a goat, is believed to

be slain on the harvest-field by the sickle or scythe. Thus, in the

neighbourhood of Bernkastel, on the Moselle, the reapers determine

by lot the order in which they shall follow each other. The first is

called the fore-reaper, the last the tail-bearer. If a reaper

overtakes the man in front he reaps past him, bending round so as to

leave the slower reaper in a patch by himself. This patch is called

the Goat; and the man for whom "the Goat is cut" in this way, is

laughed and jeered at by his fellows for the rest of the day. When

the tail-bearer cuts the last ears of corn, it is said, "He is

cutting the Goat's neck off." In the neighbourhood of Grenoble,

before the end of the reaping, a live goat is adorned with flowers

and ribbons and allowed to run about the field. The reapers chase it

and try to catch it. When it is caught, the farmer's wife holds it

fast while the farmer cuts off its head. The goat's flesh serves to

furnish the harvest-supper. A piece of the flesh is pickled and kept

till the next harvest, when another goat is killed. Then all the

harvesters eat of the flesh. On the same day the skin of the goat is

made into a cloak, which the farmer, who works with his men, must

always wear at harvest-time if rain or bad weather sets in. But if a

reaper gets pains in his back, the farmer gives him the goat-skin to

wear. The reason for this seems to be that the pains in the back,

being inflicted by the corn-spirit, can also be healed by it.

Similarly, we saw that elsewhere, when a reaper is wounded at

reaping, a cat, as the representative of the corn-spirit, is made to

lick the wound. Esthonian reapers of the island of Mon think that

the man who cuts the first ears of corn at harvest will get pains in

his back, probably because the corn-spirit is believed to resent

especially the first wound; and, in order to escape pains in the

back, Saxon reapers in Transylvania gird their loins with the first

handful of ears which they cut. Here, again, the corn-spirit is

applied to for healing or protection, but in his original vegetable

form, not in the form of a goat or a cat.

Further, the corn-spirit under the form of a goat is sometimes

conceived as lurking among the cut corn in the barn, till he is

driven from it by the threshing-flail. Thus in Baden the last sheaf

to be threshed is called the Corn-goat, the Spelt-goat, or the

Oats-goat according to the kind of grain. Again, near Marktl, in

Upper Bavaria, the sheaves are called Straw-goats or simply Goats.

They are laid in a great heap on the open field and threshed by two

rows of men standing opposite each other, who, as they ply their

flails, sing a song in which they say that they see the Straw-goat

amongst the corn-stalks. The last Goat, that is, the last sheaf, is

adorned with a wreath of violets and other flowers and with cakes

strung together. It is placed right in the middle of the heap. Some

of the threshers rush at it and tear the best of it out; others lay

on with their flails so recklessly that heads are sometimes broken.

At Oberinntal, in the Tyrol, the last thresher is called Goat. So at

Haselberg, in West Bohemia, the man who gives the last stroke at

threshing oats is called the Oats-goat. At Tettnang, in Würtemburg,

the thresher who gives the last stroke to the last bundle of corn

before it is turned goes by the name of the He-goat, and it is said,

"He has driven the He-goat away." The person who, after the bundle

has been turned, gives the last stroke of all, is called the

She-goat. In this custom it is implied that the corn is inhabited by

a pair of corn-spirits, male and female.

Further, the corn-spirit, captured in the form of a goat at

threshing, is passed on to a neighbour whose threshing is not yet

finished. In Franche Comté, as soon as the threshing is over, the

young people set up a straw figure of a goat on the farmyard of a

neighbour who is still threshing. He must give them wine or money in

return. At Ellwangen, in Würtemburg, the effigy of a goat is made

out of the last bundle of corn at threshing; four sticks form its

legs, and two its horns. The man who gives the last stroke with the

flail must carry the Goat to the barn of a neighbour who is still

threshing and throw it down on the floor; if he is caught in the

act, they tie the Goat on his back. A similar custom is observed at

Indersdorf, in Upper Bavaria; the man who throws the straw Goat into

the neighbour's barn imitates the bleating of a goat; if they catch

him, they blacken his face and tie the Goat on his back. At Saverne,

in Alsace, when a farmer is a week or more behind his neighbours

with his threshing, they set a real stuffed goat or fox before his

door.

Sometimes the spirit of the corn in goat form is believed to be

killed at threshing. In the district of Traunstein, Upper Bavaria,

they think that the Oats-goat is in the last sheaf of oats. He is

represented by an old rake set up on end, with an old pot for a

head. The children are then told to kill the Oats-goat.

7. The Corn-spirit as a Bull, Cow, or Ox

ANOTHER form which the corn-spirit often assumes is that of a bull,

cow, or ox. When the wind sweeps over the corn they say at Conitz,

in West Prussia, "The Steer is running in the corn"; when the corn

is thick and strong in one spot, they say in some parts of East

Prussia, "The Bull is lying in the corn." When a harvester has

overstrained and lamed himself, they say in the Graudenz district of

West Prussia, "The Bull pushed him"; in Lorraine they say, "He has

the Bull." The meaning of both expressions is that he has

unwittingly lighted upon the divine corn-spirit, who has punished

the profane intruder with lameness. So near Chambéry when a reaper

wounds himself with his sickle, it is said that he has "the wound of

the Ox." In the district of Bunzlau (Silesia) the last sheaf is

sometimes made into the shape of a horned ox, stuffed with tow and

wrapt in corn-ears. This figure is called the Old Man. In some parts

of Bohemia the last sheaf is made up in human form and called the

Buffalo-bull. These cases show a confusion of the human with the

animal shape of the corn-spirit. The confusion is like that of

killing a wether under the name of a wolf. All over Swabia the last

bundle of corn on the field is called the Cow; the man who cuts the

last ears "has the Cow," and is himself called Cow or Barley-cow or

Oats-cow, according to the crop; at the harvest-supper he gets a

nosegay of flowers and corn-ears and a more liberal allowance of

drink than the rest. But he is teased and laughed at; so no one

likes to be the Cow. The Cow was sometimes represented by the figure

of a woman made out of ears of corn and corn-flowers. It was carried

to the farmhouse by the man who had cut the last handful of corn.

The children ran after him and the neighbours turned out to laugh at

him, till the farmer took the Cow from him. Here again the confusion

between the human and the animal form of the corn-spirit is

apparent. In various parts of Switzerland the reaper who cuts the

last ears of corn is called Wheat-cow, Corn-cow, Oats-cow, or

Corn-steer, and is the butt of many a joke. On the other hand, in

the district of Rosenheim, Upper Bavaria, when a farmer is later of

getting in his harvest than his neighbours, they set up on his land

a Straw-bull, as it is called. This is a gigantic figure of a bull

made of stubble on a framework of wood and adorned with flowers and

leaves. Attached to it is a label on which are scrawled doggerel

verses in ridicule of the man on whose land the Straw-bull is set

up.

Again, the corn-spirit in the form of a bull or ox is killed on the

harvest-field at the close of the reaping. At Pouilly, near Dijon,

when the last ears of corn are about to be cut, an ox adorned with

ribbons, flowers, and ears of corn is led all round the field,

followed by the whole troop of reapers dancing. Then a man disguised

as the Devil cuts the last ears of corn and immediately slaughters

the ox. Part of the flesh of the animal is eaten at the

harvest-supper; part is pickled and kept till the first day of

sowing in spring. At Pont à Mousson and elsewhere on the evening of

the last day of reaping, a calf adorned with flowers and ears of

corn is led thrice round the farmyard, being allured by a bait or

driven by men with sticks, or conducted by the farmer's wife with a

rope. The calf chosen for this ceremony is the calf which was born

first on the farm in the spring of the year. It is followed by all

the reapers with their tools. Then it is allowed to run free; the

reapers chase it, and whoever catches it is called King of the Calf.

Lastly, it is solemnly killed; at Lunéville the man who acts as

butcher is the Jewish merchant of the village.

Sometimes again the corn-spirit hides himself amongst the cut corn

in the barn to reappear in bull or cow form at threshing. Thus at

Wurmlingen, in Thüringen, the man who gives the last stroke at

threshing is called the Cow, or rather the Barley-cow, Oats-cow,

Peas-cow, or the like, according to the crop. He is entirely

enveloped in straw; his head is surmounted by sticks in imitation of

horns, and two lads lead him by ropes to the well to drink. On the

way thither he must low like a cow, and for a long time afterwards

he goes by the name of the Cow. At Obermedlingen, in Swabia, when

the threshing draws near an end, each man is careful to avoid giving

the last stroke. He who does give it "gets the Cow," which is a

straw figure dressed in an old ragged petticoat, hood, and

stockings. It is tied on his back with a straw-rope; his face is

blackened, and being bound with straw-ropes to a wheelbarrow he is

wheeled round the village. Here, again, we meet with that confusion

between the human and animal shape of the corn-spirit which we have

noted in other customs. In Canton Schaffhausen the man who threshes

the last corn is called the Cow; in Canton Thurgau, the Corn-bull;

in Canton Zurich, the Thresher-cow. In the last-mentioned district

he is wrapt in straw and bound to one of the trees in the orchard.

At Arad, in Hungary, the man who gives the last stroke at threshing

is enveloped in straw and a cow's hide with the horns attached to

it. At Pessnitz, in the district of Dresden, the man who gives the

last stroke with the flail is called Bull. He must make a straw-man

and set it up before a neighbour's window. Here, apparently, as in

so many cases, the corn-spirit is passed on to a neighbour who has

not finished threshing. So at Herbrechtingen, in Thüringen, the

effigy of a ragged old woman is flung into the barn of the farmer

who is last with his threshing. The man who throws it in cries,

"There is the Cow for you." If the threshers catch him they detain

him over night and punish him by keeping him from the

harvest-supper. In these latter customs the confusion between the

human and the animal shape of the corn-spirit meets us again.

Further, the corn-spirit in bull form is sometimes believed to be

killed at threshing. At Auxerre, in threshing the last bundle of

corn, they call out twelve times, "We are killing the Bull." In the

neighbourhood of Bordeaux, where a butcher kills an ox on the field

immediately after the close of the reaping, it is said of the man

who gives the last stroke at threshing that "he has killed the

Bull." At Chambéry the last sheaf is called the sheaf of the Young

Ox, and a race takes place to it in which all the reapers join. When

the last stroke is given at threshing they say that "the Ox is

killed"; and immediately thereupon a real ox is slaughtered by the

reaper who cut the last corn. The flesh of the ox is eaten by the

threshers at supper.

We have seen that sometimes the young corn-spirit, whose task it is

to quicken the corn of the coming year, is believed to be born as a

Corn-baby on the harvest-field. Similarly in Berry the young

corn-spirit is sometimes supposed to be born on the field in calf

form; for when a binder has not rope enough to bind all the corn in

sheaves, he puts aside the wheat that remains over and imitates the

lowing of a cow. The meaning is that "the sheaf has given birth to a

calf." In Puy-de-Dôme when a binder cannot keep up with the reaper

whom he or she follows, they say "He (or she) is giving birth to the

Calf." In some parts of Prussia, in similar circumstances, they call

out to the woman, "The Bull is coming," and imitate the bellowing of

a bull. In these cases the woman is conceived as the Corn-cow or old

corn-spirit, while the supposed calf is the Corn-calf or young

corn-spirit. In some parts of Austria a mythical calf

(_Muhkälbchen_) is believed to be seen amongst the sprouting corn in

spring and to push the children; when the corn waves in the wind

they say, "The Calf is going about." Clearly, as Mannhardt observes,

this calf of the spring-time is the same animal which is afterwards

believed to be killed at reaping.

8. The Corn-spirit as a Horse or Mare

SOMETIMES the corn-spirit appears in the shape of a horse or mare.

Between Kalw and Stuttgart, when the corn bends before the wind,

they say, "There runs the Horse." At Bohlingen, near Radolfzell in

Baden, the last sheaf of oats is called the Oats-stallion. In

Hertfordshire, at the end of the reaping, there is or used to be

observed a ceremony called "crying the Mare." The last blades of

corn left standing on the field are tied together and called the

Mare. The reapers stand at a distance and throw their sickles at it;

he who cuts it through "has the prize, with acclamations and good

cheer." After it is cut the reapers cry thrice with a loud voice, "I

have her!" Others answer thrice, "What have you?"--"A Mare! a Mare!

a Mare!"--"Whose is she?" is next asked thrice. "A. B.'s," naming

the owner thrice. "Whither will you send her?"--"To C. D.," naming

some neighbour who has not reaped all his corn. In this custom the

corn-spirit in the form of a mare is passed on from a farm where the

corn is all cut to another farm where it is still standing, and

where therefore the corn-spirit may be supposed naturally to take

refuge. In Shropshire the custom is similar. The farmer who finishes

his harvest last, and who therefore cannot send the Mare to any one

else, is said "to keep her all winter." The mocking offer of the

Mare to a laggard neighbour was sometimes responded to by a mocking

acceptance of her help. Thus an old man told an inquirer, "While we

wun at supper, a mon cumm'd wi' a autar [halter] to fatch her away."

At one place a real mare used to be sent, but the man who rode her

was subjected to some rough treatment at the farmhouse to which he

paid his unwelcome visit.

In the neighbourhood of Lille the idea of the corn-spirit in horse

form is clearly preserved. When a harvester grows weary at his work,

it is said, "He has the fatigue of the Horse." The first sheaf,

called the "Cross of the Horse," is placed on a cross of boxwood in

the barn, and the youngest horse on the farm must tread on it. The

reapers dance round the last blades of corn, crying, "See the

remains of the Horse." The sheaf made out of these last blades is

given to the youngest horse of the parish (_commune_) to eat. This

youngest horse of the parish clearly represents, as Mannhardt says,

the corn-spirit of the following year, the Corn-foal, which absorbs

the spirit of the old Corn-horse by eating the last corn cut; for,

as usual, the old corn-spirit takes his final refuge in the last

sheaf. The thresher of the last sheaf is said to "beat the Horse."

9. The Corn-spirit as a Pig (Boar or Sow)

THE LAST animal embodiment of the corn-spirit which we shall notice

is the pig (boar or sow). In Thüringen, when the wind sets the young

corn in motion, they sometimes say, "The Boar is rushing through the

corn." Amongst the Esthonians of the island of Oesel the last sheaf

is called the Ryeboar, and the man who gets it is saluted with a cry

of "You have the Rye-boar on your back!" In reply he strikes up a

song, in which he prays for plenty. At Kohlerwinkel, near Augsburg,

at the close of the harvest, the last bunch of standing corn is cut

down, stalk by stalk, by all the reapers in turn. He who cuts the

last stalk "gets the Sow," and is laughed at. In other Swabian

villages also the man who cuts the last corn "has the Sow," or "has

the Rye-sow." At Bohlingen, near Radolfzell in Baden, the last sheaf

is called the Rye-sow or the Wheat-sow, according to the crop; and

at Röhrenbach in Baden the person who brings the last armful for the

last sheaf is called the Corn-sow or the Oats-sow. At Friedingen, in

Swabia, the thresher who gives the last stroke is called

Sow--Barley-sow, Corn-sow, or the like, according to the crop. At

Onstmettingen the man who gives the last stroke at threshing "has

the Sow"; he is often bound up in a sheaf and dragged by a rope

along the ground. And, generally, in Swabia the man who gives the

last stroke with the flail is called Sow. He may, however, rid

himself of this invidious distinction by passing on to a neighbour

the straw-rope, which is the badge of his position as Sow. So he

goes to a house and throws the straw-rope into it, crying, "There, I

bring you the Sow." All the inmates give chase; and if they catch

him they beat him, shut him up for several hours in the pig-sty, and

oblige him to take the "Sow" away again. In various parts of Upper

Bavaria the man who gives the last stroke at threshing must "carry

the Pig"--that is, either a straw effigy of a pig or merely a bundle

of straw-ropes. This he carries to a neighbouring farm where the

threshing is not finished, and throws it into the barn. If the

threshers catch him they handle him roughly, beating him, blackening

or dirtying his face, throwing him into filth, binding the Sow on

his back, and so on; if the bearer of the Sow is a woman they cut

off her hair. At the harvest supper or dinner the man who "carried

the Pig" gets one or more dumplings made in the form of pigs. When

the dumplings are served up by the maidservant, all the people at

table cry "Süz, süz, süz !" that being the cry used in calling pigs.

Sometimes after dinner the man who "carried the Pig" has his face

blackened, and is set on a cart and drawn round the village by his

fellows, followed by a crowd crying "Süz, süz, süz !" as if they

were calling swine. Sometimes, after being wheeled round the

village, he is flung on the dunghill.

Again, the corn-spirit in the form of a pig plays his part at

sowing-time as well as at harvest. At Neuautz, in Courland, when

barley is sown for the first time in the year, the farmer's wife

boils the chine of a pig along with the tail, and brings it to the

sower on the field. He eats of it, but cuts off the tail and sticks

it in the field; it is believed that the ears of corn will then grow

as long as the tail. Here the pig is the corn-spirit, whose

fertilising power is sometimes supposed to lie especially in his

tail. As a pig he is put in the ground at sowing-time, and as a pig

he reappears amongst the ripe corn at harvest. For amongst the

neighbouring Esthonians, as we have seen, the last sheaf is called

the Rye-boar. Somewhat similar customs are observed in Germany. In

the Salza district, near Meiningen, a certain bone in the pig is

called "the Jew on the winnowing-fan." The flesh of this bone is

boiled on Shrove Tuesday, but the bone is put amongst the ashes

which the neighbours exchange as presents on St. Peter's Day (the

twenty-second of February), and then mix with the seedcorn. In the

whole of Hesse, Meiningen, and other districts, people eat pea-soup

with dried pig-ribs on Ash Wednesday or Candlemas. The ribs are then

collected and hung in the room till sowing-time, when they are

inserted in the sown field or in the seed-bag amongst the flax seed.

This is thought to be an infallible specific against earth-fleas and

moles, and to cause the flax to grow well and tall.

But the idea of the corn-spirit as embodied in pig form is nowhere

more clearly expressed than in the Scandinavian custom of the Yule

Boar. In Sweden and Denmark at Yule (Christmas) it is the custom to

bake a loaf in the form of a boar-pig. This is called the Yule Boar.

The corn of the last sheaf is often used to make it. All through

Yule the Yule Boar stands on the table. Often it is kept till the

sowing-time in spring, when part of it is mixed with the seed-corn

and part given to the ploughman and plough-horses or ploughoxen to

eat, in the expectation of a good harvest. In this custom the

corn-spirit, immanent in the last sheaf, appears at midwinter in the

form of a boar made from the corn of the last sheaf; and his

quickening influence on the corn is shown by mixing part of the Yule

Boar with the seed-corn, and giving part of it to the ploughman and

his cattle to eat. Similarly we saw that the Corn-wolf makes his

appearance at mid-winter, the time when the year begins to verge

towards spring. Formerly a real boar was sacrificed at Christmas,

and apparently also a man in the character of the Yule Boar. This,

at least, may perhaps be inferred from a Christmas custom still

observed in Sweden. A man is wrapt up in a skin, and carries a wisp

of straw in his mouth, so that the projecting straws look like the

bristles of a boar. A knife is brought, and an old woman, with her

face blackened, pretends to sacrifice him.

On Christmas Eve in some parts of the Esthonian island of Oesel they

bake a long cake with the two ends turned up. It is called the

Christmas Boar, and stands on the table till the morning of New

Year's Day, when it is distributed among the cattle. In other parts

of the island the Christmas Boar is not a cake but a little pig born

in March, which the housewife fattens secretly, often without the

knowledge of the other members of the family. On Christmas Eve the

little pig is secretly killed, then roasted in the oven, and set on

the table standing on all fours, where it remains in this posture

for several days. In other parts of the island, again, though the

Christmas cake has neither the name nor the shape of a boar, it is

kept till the New Year, when half of it is divided among all the

members and all the quadrupeds of the family. The other half of the

cake is kept till sowing-time comes round, when it is similarly

distributed in the morning among human beings and beasts. In other

parts of Esthonia, again, the Christmas Boar, as it is called, is

baked of the first rye cut at harvest; it has a conical shape and a

cross is impressed on it with a pig's bone or a key, or three dints

are made in it with a buckle or a piece of charcoal. It stands with

a light beside it on the table all through the festal season. On New

Year's Day and Epiphany, before sunrise, a little of the cake is

crumbled with salt and given to the cattle. The rest is kept till

the day when the cattle are driven out to pasture for the first time

in spring. It is then put in the herdsman's bag, and at evening is

divided among the cattle to guard them from magic and harm. In some

places the Christmas Boar is partaken of by farm-servants and cattle

at the time of the barley sowing, for the purpose of thereby

producing a heavier crop.

10. On the Animal Embodiments of the Corn-spirit

SO much for the animal embodiments of the corn-spirit as they are

presented to us in the folk-customs of Northern Europe. These

customs bring out clearly the sacramental character of the

harvest-supper. The corn-spirit is conceived as embodied in an

animal; this divine animal is slain, and its flesh and blood are

partaken of by the harvesters. Thus the cock, the hare, the cat, the

goat, and the OX are eaten sacramentally by the harvester, and the

pig is eaten sacramentally by ploughmen in spring. Again, as a

substitute for the real flesh of the divine being, bread or

dumplings are made in his image and eaten sacramentally; thus,

pig-shaped dumplings are eaten by the harvesters, and loaves made in

boar-shape (the Yule Boar) are eaten in spring by the ploughman and

his cattle.

The reader has probably remarked the complete parallelism between

the conceptions of the corn-spirit in human and in animal form. The

parallel may be here briefly resumed. When the corn waves in the

wind it is said either that the Corn-mother or that the Corn-wolf,

etc., is passing through the corn. Children are warned against

straying in corn-fields either because the Corn-mother or because

the Corn-wolf, etc., is there. In the last corn cut or the last

sheaf threshed either the Corn-mother or the Corn-wolf, etc., is

supposed to be present. The last sheaf is itself called either the

Corn-mother or the Corn-wolf, etc., and is made up in the shape

either of a woman or of a wolf, etc. The person who cuts, binds, or

threshes the last sheaf is called either the Old Woman or the Wolf,

etc., according to the name bestowed on the sheaf itself. As in some

places a sheaf made in human form and called the Maiden, the Mother

of the Maize, etc., is kept from one harvest to the next in order to

secure a continuance of the corn-spirit's blessing, so in some

places the Harvest-cock and in others the flesh of the goat is kept

for a similar purpose from one harvest to the next. As in some

places the grain taken from the Corn-mother is mixed with the

seed-corn in spring to make the crop abundant, so in some places the

feathers of the cock, and in Sweden the Yule Boar, are kept till

spring and mixed with the seed-corn for a like purpose. As part of

the Corn-mother or Maiden is given to the cattle at Christmas or to

the horses at the first ploughing, so part of the Yule Boar is given

to the ploughing horses or oxen in spring. Lastly, the death of the

corn-spirit is represented by killing or pretending to kill either

his human or his animal representative; and the worshippers partake

sacramentally either of the actual body and blood of the

representative of the divinity, or of bread made in his likeness.

Other animal forms assumed by the corn-spirit are the fox, stag,

roe, sheep, bear, ass, mouse, quail, stork, swan, and kite. If it is

asked why the corn-spirit should be thought to appear in the form of

an animal and of so many different animals, we may reply that to

primitive man the simple appearance of an animal or bird among the

corn is probably enough to suggest a mysterious link between the

creature and the corn; and when we remember that in the old days,

before fields were fenced in, all kinds of animals must have been

free to roam over them, we need not wonder that the corn-spirit

should have been identified even with large animals like the horse

and cow, which nowadays could not, except by a rare accident, be

found straying in an English corn-field. This explanation applies

with peculiar force to the very common case in which the animal

embodiment of the corn-spirit is believed to lurk in the last

standing corn. For at harvest a number of wild animals, such as

hares, rabbits, and partridges, are commonly driven by the progress

of the reaping into the last patch of standing corn, and make their

escape from it as it is being cut down. So regularly does this

happen that reapers and others often stand round the last patch of

corn armed with sticks or guns, with which they kill the animals as

they dart out of their last refuge among the stalks. Now, primitive

man, to whom magical changes of shape seem perfectly credible, finds

it most natural that the spirit of the corn, driven from his home in

the ripe grain, should make his escape in the form of the animal

which is seen to rush out of the last patch of corn as it falls

under the scythe of the reaper. Thus the identification of the

corn-spirit with an animal is analogous to the identification of him

with a passing stranger. As the sudden appearance of a stranger near

the harvest-field or threshing-floor is, to the primitive mind,

enough to identify him as the spirit of the corn escaping from the

cut or threshed corn, so the sudden appearance of an animal issuing

from the cut corn is enough to identify it with the corn-spirit

escaping from his ruined home. The two identifications are so

analogous that they can hardly be dissociated in any attempt to

explain them. Those who look to some other principle than the one

here suggested for the explanation of the latter identification are

bound to show that their theory covers the former identification

also.

XLIX. Ancient Deities of Vegetation as Animals

1. Dionysus, the Goat and the Bull

HOWEVER we may explain it, the fact remains that in peasant

folk-lore the corn-spirit is very commonly conceived and represented

in animal form. May not this fact explain the relation in which

certain animals stood to the ancient deities of vegetation,

Dionysus, Demeter, Adonis, Attis, and Osiris?

To begin with Dionysus. We have seen that he was represented

sometimes as a goat and sometimes as a bull. As a goat he can hardly

be separated from the minor divinities, the Pans, Satyrs, and

Silenuses, all of whom are closely associated with him and are

represented more or less completely in the form of goats. Thus, Pan

was regularly portrayed in sculpture and painting with the face and

legs of a goat. The Satyrs were depicted with pointed goat-ears, and

sometimes with sprouting horns and short tails. They were sometimes

spoken of simply as goats; and in the drama their parts were played

by men dressed in goatskins. Silenus is represented in art clad in a

goatskin. Further, the Fauns, the Italian counterpart of the Greek

Pans and Satyrs, are described as being half goats, with goat-feet

and goat-horns. Again, all these minor goat-formed divinities

partake more or less clearly of the character of woodland deities.

Thus, Pan was called by the Arcadians the Lord of the Wood. The

Silenuses kept company with the tree-nymphs. The Fauns are expressly

designated as woodland deities; and their character as such is still

further brought out by their association, or even identification,

with Silvanus and the Silvanuses, who, as their name of itself

indicates, are spirits of the woods. Lastly, the association of the

Satyrs with the Silenuses, Fauns, and Silvanuses, proves that the

Satyrs also were woodland deities. These goat-formed spirits of the

woods have their counterparts in the folk-lore of Northern Europe.

Thus, the Russian wood-spirits, called _Ljeschie_ (from _ljes,_

"wood"), are believed to appear partly in human shape, but with the

horns, ears, and legs of goats. The _Ljeschi_ can alter his stature

at pleasure; when he walks in the wood he is as tall as the trees;

when he walks in the meadows he is no higher than the grass. Some of

the _Ljeschie_ are spirits of the corn as well as of the wood;

before harvest they are as tall as the corn-stalks, but after it

they shrink to the height of the stubble. This brings out--what we

have remarked before--the close connexion between tree-spirits and

corn-spirits, and shows how easily the former may melt into the

latter. Similarly the Fauns, though wood-spirits, were believed to

foster the growth of the crops. We have already seen how often the

corn-spirit is represented in folk-custom as a goat. On the whole,

then, as Mannhardt argues, the Pans, Satyrs, and Fauns perhaps

belong to a widely diffused class of wood-spirits conceived in

goat-form. The fondness of goats for straying in woods and nibbling

the bark of trees, to which indeed they are most destructive, is an

obvious and perhaps sufficient reason why wood-spirits should so

often be supposed to take the form of goats. The inconsistency of a

god of vegetation subsisting upon the vegetation which he

personifies is not one to strike the primitive mind. Such

inconsistencies arise when the deity, ceasing to be immanent in the

vegetation, comes to be regarded as its owner or lord; for the idea

of owning the vegetation naturally leads to that of subsisting on

it. Sometimes the corn-spirit, originally conceived as immanent in

the corn, afterwards comes to be regarded as its owner, who lives on

it and is reduced to poverty and want by being deprived of it. Hence

he is often known as "the Poor Man" or "the Poor Woman."

Occasionally the last sheaf is left standing on the field for "the

Poor Old Woman" or for "the Old Rye-woman."

Thus the representation of wood-spirits in the form of goats appears

to be both widespread and, to the primitive mind, natural. Therefore

when we find, as we have done, that Dionysus--a tree-god--is

sometimes represented in goat-form, we can hardly avoid concluding

that this representation is simply a part of his proper character as

a tree-god and is not to be explained by the fusion of two distinct

and independent worships, in one of which he originally appeared as

a tree-god and in the other as a goat.

Dionysus was also figured, as we have seen, in the shape of a bull.

After what has gone before we are naturally led to expect that his

bull form must have been only another expression for his character

as a deity of vegetation, especially as the bull is a common

embodiment of the corn-spirit in Northern Europe; and the close

association of Dionysus with Demeter and Persephone in the mysteries

of Eleusis shows that he had at least strong agricultural

affinities.

The probability of this view will be somewhat increased if it can be

shown that in other rites than those of Dionysus the ancients slew

an OX as a representative of the spirit of vegetation. This they

appear to have done in the Athenian sacrifice known as "the murder

of the OX" (_bouphonia_). It took place about the end of June or

beginning of July, that is, about the time when the threshing is

nearly over in Attica. According to tradition the sacrifice was

instituted to procure a cessation of drought and dearth which had

afflicted the land. The ritual was as follows. Barley mixed with

wheat, or cakes made of them, were laid upon the bronze altar of

Zeus Polieus on the Acropolis. Oxen were driven round the altar, and

the OX which went up to the altar and ate the offering on it was

sacrificed. The axe and knife with which the beast was slain had

been previously wetted with water brought by maidens called

"water-carriers." The weapons were then sharpened and handed to the

butchers, one of whom felled the OX with the axe and another cut its

throat with the knife. As soon as he had felled the OX, the former

threw the axe from him and fled; and the man who cut the beast's

throat apparently imitated his example. Meantime the OX was skinned

and all present partook of its flesh. Then the hide was stuffed with

straw and sewed up; next the stuffed animal was set on its feet and

yoked to a plough as if it were ploughing. A trial then took place

in an ancient law-court presided over by the King (as he was called)

to determine who had murdered the OX. The maidens who had brought

the water accused the men who had sharpened the axe and knife; the

men who had sharpened the axe and knife blamed the men who had

handed these implements to the butchers; the men who had handed the

implements to the butchers blamed the butchers; and the butchers

laid the blame on the axe and knife, which were accordingly found

guilty, condemned, and cast into the sea.

The name of this sacrifice,-- "the _murder_ of the OX,"--the pains

taken by each person who had a hand in the slaughter to lay the

blame on some one else, together with the formal trial and

punishment of the axe or knife or both, prove that the OX was here

regarded not merely as a victim offered to a god, but as itself a

sacred creature, the slaughter of which was sacrilege or murder.

This is borne out by a statement of Varro that to kill an OX was

formerly a capital crime in Attica. The mode of selecting the victim

suggests that the OX which tasted the corn was viewed as the

corn-deity taking possession of his own. This interpretation is

supported by the following custom. In Beauce, in the district of

Orleans, on the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth of April they make a

straw man called "the great _mondard._" For they say that the old

_mondard_ is now dead and it is necessary to make a new one. The

straw man is carried in solemn procession up and down the village

and at last is placed upon the oldest apple-tree. There he remains

till the apples are gathered, when he is taken down and thrown into

the water, or he is burned and his ashes cast into water. But the

person who plucks the first fruit from the tree succeeds to the

title of "the great _mondard._" Here the straw figure, called "the

great _mondard_" and placed on the oldest apple-tree in spring,

represents the spirit of the tree, who, dead in winter, revives when

the apple-blossoms appear on the boughs. Thus the person who plucks

the first fruit from the tree and thereby receives the name of "the

great _mondard_" must be regarded as a representative of the

tree-spirit. Primitive peoples are usually reluctant to taste the

annual first-fruits of any crop, until some ceremony has been

performed which makes it safe and pious for them to do so. The

reason of this reluctance appears to be a belief that the

first-fruits either belong to or actually contain a divinity.

Therefore when a man or animal is seen boldly to appropriate the

sacred first-fruits, he or it is naturally regarded as the divinity

himself in human or animal form taking possession of his own. The

time of the Athenian sacrifice, which fell about the close of the

threshing, suggests that the wheat and barley laid upon the altar

were a harvest offering; and the sacramental character of the

subsequent repast--all partaking of the flesh of the divine

animal--would make it parallel to the harvest-suppers of modern

Europe, in which, as we have seen, the flesh of the animal which

stands for the corn-spirit is eaten by the harvesters. Again, the

tradition that the sacrifice was instituted in order to put an end

to drought and famine is in favour of taking it as a harvest

festival. The resurrection of the corn-spirit, enacted by setting up

the stuffed OX and yoking it to the plough, may be compared with the

resurrection of the tree-spirit in the person of his representative,

the Wild Man.

The OX appears as a representative of the corn-spirit in other parts

of the world. At Great Bassam, in Guinea, two oxen are slain

annually to procure a good harvest. If the sacrifice is to be

effectual, it is necessary that the oxen should weep. So all the

women of the village sit in front of the beasts, chanting, "The OX

will weep; yes, he will weep!" From time to time one of the women

walks round the beasts, throwing manioc meal or palm wine upon them,

especially into their eyes. When tears roll down from the eyes of

the oxen, the people dance, singing, "The OX weeps! the OX weeps!"

Then two men seize the tails of the beasts and cut them off at one

blow. It is believed that a great misfortune will happen in the

course of the year if the tails are not severed at one blow. The

oxen are afterwards killed, and their flesh is eaten by the chiefs.

Here the tears of the oxen, like those of the human victims amongst

the Khonds and the Aztecs, are probably a rain-charm. We have

already seen that the virtue of the corn-spirit, embodied in animal

form, is sometimes supposed to reside in the tail, and that the last

handful of corn is sometimes conceived as the tail of the

corn-spirit. In the Mithraic religion this conception is graphically

set forth in some of the numerous sculptures which represent Mithras

kneeling on the back of a bull and plunging a knife into its flank;

for on certain of these monuments the tail of the bull ends in three

stalks of corn, and in one of them corn-stalks instead of blood are

seen issuing from the wound inflicted by the knife. Such

representations certainly suggest that the bull, whose sacrifice

appears to have formed a leading feature in the Mithraic ritual, was

conceived, in one at least of its aspects, as an incarnation of the

corn-spirit.

Still more clearly does the ox appear as a personification of the

corn-spirit in a ceremony which is observed in all the provinces and

districts of China to welcome the approach of spring. On the first

day of spring, usually on the third or fourth of February, which is

also the beginning of the Chinese New Year, the governor or prefect

of the city goes in procession to the east gate of the city, and

sacrifices to the Divine Husbandman, who is represented with a

bull's head on the body of a man. A large effigy of an ox, cow, or

buffalo has been prepared for the occasion, and stands outside of

the east gate, with agricultural implements beside it. The figure is

made of differently-coloured pieces of paper pasted on a framework

either by a blind man or according to the directions of a

necromancer. The colours of the paper prognosticate the character of

the coming year; if red prevails, there will be many fires; if

white, there will be floods and rain; and so with the other colours.

The mandarins walk slowly round the ox, beating it severely at each

step with rods of various hues. It is filled with five kinds of

grain, which pour forth when the effigy is broken by the blows of

the rods. The paper fragments are then set on fire, and a scramble

takes place for the burning fragments, because the people believe

that whoever gets one of them is sure to be fortunate throughout the

year. A live buffalo is next killed, and its flesh is divided among

the mandarins. According to one account, the effigy of the ox is

made of clay, and, after being beaten by the governor, is stoned by

the people till they break it in pieces, "from which they expect an

abundant year." Here the corn-spirit appears to be plainly

represented by the corn-filled ox, whose fragments may therefore be

supposed to bring fertility with them.

On the whole we may perhaps conclude that both as a goat and as a

bull Dionysus was essentially a god of vegetation. The Chinese and

European customs which I have cited may perhaps shed light on the

custom of rending a live bull or goat at the rites of Dionysus. The

animal was torn in fragments, as the Khond victim was cut in pieces,

in order that the worshippers might each secure a portion of the

life-giving and fertilising influence of the god. The flesh was

eaten raw as a sacrament, and we may conjecture that some of it was

taken home to be buried in the fields, or otherwise employed so as

to convey to the fruits of the earth the quickening influence of the

god of vegetation. The resurrection of Dionysus, related in his

myth, may have been enacted in his rites by stuffing and setting up

the slain ox, as was done at the Athenian _bouphonia._

2. Demeter, the Pig and the Horse

PASSING next to the corn-goddess Demeter, and remembering that in

European folk-lore the pig is a common embodiment of the

corn-spirit, we may now ask whether the pig, which was so closely

associated with Demeter, may not have been originally the goddess

herself in animal form. The pig was sacred to her; in art she was

portrayed carrying or accompanied by a pig; and the pig was

regularly sacrificed in her mysteries, the reason assigned being

that the pig injures the corn and is therefore an enemy of the

goddess. But after an animal has been conceived as a god, or a god

as an animal, it sometimes happens, as we have seen, that the god

sloughs off his animal form and becomes purely anthropomorphic; and

that then the animal, which at first had been slain in the character

of the god, comes to be viewed as a victim offered to the god on the

ground of its hostility to the deity; in short, the god is

sacrificed to himself on the ground that he is his own enemy. This

happened to Dionysus, and it may have happened to Demeter also. And

in fact the rites of one of her festivals, the Thesmophoria, bear

out the view that originally the pig was an embodiment of the

corn-goddess herself, either Demeter or her daughter and double

Persephone. The Attic Thesmophoria was an autumn festival,

celebrated by women alone in October, and appears to have

represented with mourning rites the descent of Persephone (or

Demeter) into the lower world, and with joy her return from the

dead. Hence the name Descent or Ascent variously applied to the

first, and the name _Kalligeneia_ (fair-born) applied to the third

day of the festival. Now it was customary at the Thesmophoria to

throw pigs, cakes of dough, and branches of pine-trees into "the

chasms of Demeter and Persephone," which appear to have been sacred

caverns or vaults. In these caverns or vaults there were said to be

serpents, which guarded the caverns and consumed most of the flesh

of the pigs and dough-cakes which were thrown in.

Afterwards--apparently at the next annual festival--the decayed

remains of the pigs, the cakes, and the pine-branches were fetched

by women called "drawers," who, after observing rules of ceremonial

purity for three days, descended into the caverns, and, frightening

away the serpents by clapping their hands, brought up the remains

and placed them on the altar. Whoever got a piece of the decayed

flesh and cakes, and sowed it with the seed-corn in his field, was

believed to be sure of a good crop.

To explain the rude and ancient ritual of the Thesmophoria the

following legend was told. At the moment when Pluto carried off

Persephone, a swineherd called Eubuleus chanced to be herding his

swine on the spot, and his herd was engulfed in the chasm down which

Pluto vanished with Persephone. Accordingly at the Thesmophoria pigs

were annually thrown into caverns to commemorate the disappearance

of the swine of Eubuleus. It follows from this that the casting of

the pigs into the vaults at the Thesmophoria formed part of the

dramatic representation of Persephone's descent into the lower

world; and as no image of Persephone appears to have been thrown in,

we may infer that the descent of the pigs was not so much an

accompaniment of her descent as the descent itself, in short, that

the pigs were Persephone. Afterwards when Persephone or Demeter (for

the two are equivalent) took on human form, a reason had to be found

for the custom of throwing pigs into caverns at her festival; and

this was done by saying that when Pluto carried off Persephone there

happened to be some swine browsing near, which were swallowed up

along with her. The story is obviously a forced and awkward attempt

to bridge over the gulf between the old conception of the

corn-spirit as a pig and the new conception of her as an

anthropomorphic goddess. A trace of the older conception survived in

the legend that when the sad mother was searching for traces of the

vanished Persephone, the footprints of the lost one were obliterated

by the footprints of a pig; originally, we may conjecture, the

footprints of the pig were the footprints of Persephone and of

Demeter herself. A consciousness of the intimate connexion of the

pig with the corn lurks in the legend that the swineherd Eubuleus

was a brother of Triptolemus, to whom Demeter first imparted the

secret of the corn. Indeed, according to one version of the story,

Eubuleus himself received, jointly with his brother Triptolemus, the

gift of the corn from Demeter as a reward for revealing to her the

fate of Persephone. Further, it is to be noted that at the

Thesmophoria the women appear to have eaten swine's flesh. The meal,

if I am right, must have been a solemn sacrament or communion, the

worshippers partaking of the body of the god.

As thus explained, the Thesmophoria has its analogies in the

folk-customs of Northern Europe which have been already described.

Just as at the Thesmophoria--an autumn festival in honour of the

corn-goddess--swine's flesh was partly eaten, partly kept in caverns

till the following year, when it was taken up to be sown with the

seed-corn in the fields for the purpose of securing a good crop; so

in the neighbourhood of Grenoble the goat killed on the

harvest-field is partly eaten at the harvest-supper, partly pickled

and kept till the next harvest; so at Pouilly the ox killed on the

harvest-field is partly eaten by the harvesters, partly pickled and

kept till the first day of sowing in spring, probably to be then

mixed with the seed, or eaten by the ploughmen, or both; so at

Udvarhely the feathers of the cock which is killed in the last sheaf

at harvest are kept till spring, and then sown with the seed on the

field; so in Hesse and Meiningen the flesh of pigs is eaten on Ash

Wednesday or Candlemas, and the bones are kept till sowing-time,

when they are put into the field sown or mixed with the seed in the

bag; so, lastly, the corn from the last sheaf is kept till

Christmas, made into the Yule Boar, and afterwards broken and mixed

with the seed-corn at sowing in spring. Thus, to put it generally,

the corn-spirit is killed in animal form in autumn; part of his

flesh is eaten as a sacrament by his worshippers; and part of it is

kept till next sowing-time or harvest as a pledge and security for

the continuance or renewal of the corn-spirit's energies.

If persons of fastidious taste should object that the Greeks never

could have conceived Demeter and Persephone to be embodied in the

form of pigs, it may be answered that in the cave of Phigalia in

Arcadia the Black Demeter was portrayed with the head and mane of a

horse on the body of a woman. Between the portraits of a goddess as

a pig, and the portrait of her as a woman with a horse's head, there

is little to choose in respect of barbarism. The legend told of the

Phigalian Demeter indicates that the horse was one of the animal

forms assumed in ancient Greece, as in modern Europe, by the

cornspirit. It was said that in her search for her daughter, Demeter

assumed the form of a mare to escape the addresses of Poseidon, and

that, offended at his importunity, she withdrew in dudgeon to a cave

not far from Phigalia in the highlands of Western Arcadia. There,

robed in black, she tarried so long that the fruits of the earth

were perishing, and mankind would have died of famine if Pan had not

soothed the angry goddess and persuaded her to quit the cave. In

memory of this event, the Phigalians set up an image of the Black

Demeter in the cave; it represented a woman dressed in a long robe,

with the head and mane of a horse. The Black Demeter, in whose

absence the fruits of the earth perish, is plainly a mythical

expression for the bare wintry earth stripped of its summer mantle

of green.

3. Attis, Adonis, and the Pig

PASSING now to Attis and Adonis, we may note a few facts which seem

to show that these deities of vegetation had also, like other

deities of the same class, their animal embodiments. The worshippers

of Attis abstained from eating the flesh of swine. This appears to

indicate that the pig was regarded as an embodiment of Attis. And

the legend that Attis was killed by a boar points in the same

direction. For after the examples of the goat Dionysus and the pig

Demeter it may almost be laid down as a rule that an animal which is

said to have injured a god was originally the god himself. Perhaps

the cry of "Hyes Attes! Hyes Attes!" which was raised by the

worshippers of Attis, may be neither more nor less than "Pig Attis!

Pig Attis!"--_hyes_ being possibly a Phrygian form of the Greek

_hy¯s,_ "a pig."

In regard to Adonis, his connexion with the boar was not always

explained by the story that he had been killed by the animal.

According to another story, a boar rent with his tusk the bark of

the tree in which the infant Adonis was born. According to yet

another story, he perished at the hands of Hephaestus on Mount

Lebanon while he was hunting wild boars. These variations in the

legend serve to show that, while the connexion of the boar with

Adonis was certain, the reason of the connexion was not understood,

and that consequently different stories were devised to explain it.

Certainly the pig ranked as a sacred animal among the Syrians. At

the great religious metropolis of Hierapolis on the Euphrates pigs

were neither sacrificed nor eaten, and if a man touched a pig he was

unclean for the rest of the day. Some people said this was because

the pigs were unclean; others said it was because the pigs were

sacred. This difference of opinion points to a hazy state of

religious thought in which the ideas of sanctity and uncleanness are

not yet sharply distinguished, both being blent in a sort of

vaporous solution to which we give the name of taboo. It is quite

consistent with this that the pig should have been held to be an

embodiment of the divine Adonis, and the analogies of Dionysus and

Demeter make it probable that the story of the hostility of the

animal to the god was only a late misapprehension of the old view of

the god as embodied in a pig. The rule that pigs were not sacrificed

or eaten by worshippers of Attis and presumably of Adonis, does not

exclude the possibility that in these rituals the pig was slain on

solemn occasions as a representative of the god and consumed

sacramentally by the worshippers. Indeed, the sacramental killing

and eating of an animal implies that the animal is sacred, and that,

as a general rule, it is spared.

The attitude of the Jews to the pig was as ambiguous as that of the

heathen Syrians towards the same animal. The Greeks could not decide

whether the Jews worshipped swine or abominated them. On the one

hand they might not eat swine; but on the other hand they might not

kill them. And if the former rule speaks for the uncleanness, the

latter speaks still more strongly for the sanctity of the animal.

For whereas both rules may, and one rule must, be explained on the

supposition that the pig was sacred; neither rule must, and one rule

cannot, be explained on the supposition that the pig was unclean.

If, therefore, we prefer the former supposition, we must conclude

that, originally at least, the pig was revered rather than abhorred

by the Israelites. We are confirmed in this opinion by observing

that down to the time of Isaiah some of the Jews used to meet

secretly in gardens to eat the flesh of swine and mice as a

religious rite. Doubtless this was a very ancient ceremony, dating

from a time when both the pig and the mouse were venerated as

divine, and when their flesh was partaken of sacramentally on rare

and solemn occasions as the body and blood of gods. And in general

it may perhaps be said that all so-called unclean animals were

originally sacred; the reason for not eating them was that they were

divine.

4. Osiris, the Pig and the Bull

IN ANCIENT Egypt, within historical times, the pig occupied the same

dubious position as in Syria and Palestine, though at first sight

its uncleanness is more prominent than its sanctity. The Egyptians

are generally said by Greek writers to have abhorred the pig as a

foul and loathsome animal. If a man so much as touched a pig in

passing, he stepped into the river with all his clothes on, to wash

off the taint. To drink pig's milk was believed to cause leprosy to

the drinker. Swineherds, though natives of Egypt, were forbidden to

enter any temple, and they were the only men who were thus excluded.

No one would give his daughter in marriage to a swineherd, or marry

a swineherd's daughter; the swineherds married among themselves. Yet

once a year the Egyptians sacrificed pigs to the moon and to Osiris,

and not only sacrificed them, but ate of their flesh, though on any

other day of the year they would neither sacrifice them nor taste of

their flesh. Those who were too poor to offer a pig on this day

baked cakes of dough, and offered them instead. This can hardly be

explained except by the supposition that the pig was a sacred animal

which was eaten sacramentally by his worshippers once a year.

The view that in Egypt the pig was sacred is borne out by the very

facts which, to moderns, might seem to prove the contrary. Thus the

Egyptians thought, as we have seen, that to drink pig's milk

produced leprosy. But exactly analogous views are held by savages

about the animals and plants which they deem most sacred. Thus in

the island of Wetar (between New Guinea and Celebes) people believe

themselves to be variously descended from wild pigs, serpents,

crocodiles, turtles, dogs, and eels; a man may not eat an animal of

the kind from which he is descended; if he does so, he will become a

leper, and go mad. Amongst the Omaha Indians of North America men

whose totem is the elk, believe that if they ate the flesh of the

male elk they would break out in boils and white spots in different

parts of their bodies. In the same tribe men whose totem is the red

maize, think that if they ate red maize they would have running

sores all round their mouths. The Bush negroes of Surinam, who

practise totemism, believe that if they ate the _capiaï_ (an animal

like a pig) it would give them leprosy; perhaps the _capiaï_ is one

of their totems. The Syrians, in antiquity, who esteemed fish

sacred, thought that if they ate fish their bodies would break out

in ulcers, and their feet and stomach would swell up. The Chasas of

Orissa believe that if they were to injure their totemic animal they

would be attacked by leprosy and their line would die out. These

examples prove that the eating of a sacred animal is often believed

to produce leprosy or other skin-diseases; so far, therefore, they

support the view that the pig must have been sacred in Egypt, since

the effect of drinking its milk was believed to be leprosy.

Again, the rule that, after touching a pig, a man had to wash

himself and his clothes, also favours the view of the sanctity of

the pig. For it is a common belief that the effect of contact with a

sacred object must be removed, by washing or otherwise, before a man

is free to mingle with his fellows. Thus the Jews wash their hands

after reading the sacred scriptures. Before coming forth from the

tabernacle after the sin-offering, the high priest had to wash

himself, and put off the garments which he had worn in the holy

place. It was a rule of Greek ritual that, in offering an expiatory

sacrifice, the sacrificer should not touch the sacrifice, and that,

after the offering was made, he must wash his body and his clothes

in a river or spring before he could enter a city or his own house.

The Polynesians felt strongly the need of ridding themselves of the

sacred contagion, if it may be so called, which they caught by

touching sacred objects. Various ceremonies were performed for the

purpose of removing this contagion. We have seen, for example, how

in Tonga a man who happened to touch a sacred chief, or anything

personally belonging to him, had to perform a certain ceremony

before he could feed himself with his hands; otherwise it was

believed that he would swell up and die, or at least be afflicted

with scrofula or some other disease. We have seen, too, what fatal

effects are supposed to follow, and do actually follow, from contact

with a sacred object in New Zealand. In short, primitive man

believes that what is sacred is dangerous; it is pervaded by a sort

of electrical sanctity which communicates a shock to, even if it

does not kill, whatever comes in contact with it. Hence the savage

is unwilling to touch or even to see that which he deems peculiarly

holy. Thus Bechuanas, of the Crocodile clan, think it "hateful and

unlucky" to meet or see a crocodile; the sight is thought to cause

inflammation of the eyes. Yet the crocodile is their most sacred

object; they call it their father, swear by it, and celebrate it in

their festivals. The goat is the sacred animal of the Madenassana

Bushmen; yet "to look upon it would be to render the man for the

time impure, as well as to cause him undefined uneasiness." The Elk

clan, among the Omaha Indians, believe that even to touch the male

elk would be followed by an eruption of boils and white spots on the

body. Members of the Reptile clan in the same tribe think that if

one of them touches or smells a snake, it will make his hair white.

In Samoa people whose god was a butterfly believed that if they

caught a butterfly it would strike them dead. Again, in Samoa the

reddish-seared leaves of the banana-tree were commonly used as

plates for handing food; but if any member of the Wild Pigeon family

had used banana leaves for this purpose, it was supposed that he

would suffer from rheumatic swellings or an eruption all over the

body like chicken-pox. The Mori clan of the Bhils in Central India

worship the peacock as their totem and make offerings of grain to

it; yet members of the clan believe that were they even to set foot

on the tracks of a peacock they would afterwards suffer from some

disease, and if a woman sees a peacock she must veil her face and

look away. Thus the primitive mind seems to conceive of holiness as

a sort of dangerous virus, which a prudent man will shun as far as

possible, and of which, if he should chance to be infected by it, he

will carefully disinfect himself by some form of ceremonial

purification.

In the light of these parallels the beliefs and customs of the

Egyptians touching the pig are probably to be explained as based

upon an opinion of the extreme sanctity rather than of the extreme

uncleanness of the animal; or rather, to put it more correctly, they

imply that the animal was looked on, not simply as a filthy and

disgusting creature, but as a being endowed with high supernatural

powers, and that as such it was regarded with that primitive

sentiment of religious awe and fear in which the feelings of

reverence and abhorrence are almost equally blended. The ancients

themselves seem to have been aware that there was another side to

the horror with which swine seemed to inspire the Egyptians. For the

Greek astronomer and mathematician Eudoxus, who resided fourteen

months in Egypt and conversed with the priests, was of opinion that

the Egyptians spared the pig, not out of abhorrence, but from a

regard to its utility in agriculture; for, according to him, when

the Nile had subsided, herds of swine were turned loose over the

fields to tread the seed down into the moist earth. But when a being

is thus the object of mixed and implicitly contradictory feelings,

he may be said to occupy a position of unstable equilibrium. In

course of time one of the contradictory feelings is likely to

prevail over the other, and according as the feeling which finally

predominates is that of reverence or abhorrence, the being who is

the object of it will rise into a god or sink into a devil. The

latter, on the whole, was the fate of the pig in Egypt. For in

historical times the fear and horror of the pig seem certainly to

have outweighed the reverence and worship of which he may once have

been the object, and of which, even in his fallen state, he never

quite lost trace. He came to be looked on as an embodiment of Set or

Typhon, the Egyptian devil and enemy of Osiris. For it was in the

shape of a black pig that Typhon injured the eye of the god Horus,

who burned him and instituted the sacrifice of the pig, the sun-god

Ra having declared the beast abominable. Again, the story that

Typhon was hunting a boar when he discovered and mangled the body of

Osiris, and that this was the reason why pigs were sacrificed once a

year, is clearly a modernised version of an older story that Osiris,

like Adonis and Attis, was slain or mangled by a boar, or by Typhon

in the form of a boar. Thus, the annual sacrifice of a pig to Osiris

might naturally be interpreted as vengeance inflicted on the hostile

animal that had slain or mangled the god. But, in the first place,

when an animal is thus killed as a solemn sacrifice once and once

only in the year, it generally or always means that the animal is

divine, that he is spared and respected the rest of the year as a

god and slain, when he is slain, also in the character of a god. In

the second place, the examples of Dionysus and Demeter, if not of

Attis and Adonis, have taught us that the animal which is sacrificed

to a god on the ground that he is the god's enemy may have been, and

probably was, originally the god himself. Therefore, the annual

sacrifice of a pig to Osiris, coupled with the alleged hostility of

the animal to the god, tends to show, first, that originally the pig

was a god, and, second, that he was Osiris. At a later age, when

Osiris became anthropomorphic and his original relation to the pig

had been forgotten, the animal was first distinguished from him, and

afterwards opposed as an enemy to him by mythologists who could

think of no reason for killing a beast in connexion with the worship

of a god except that the beast was the god's enemy; or, as Plutarch

puts it, not that which is dear to the gods, but that which is the

contrary, is fit to be sacrificed. At this later stage the havoc

which a wild boar notoriously makes amongst the corn would supply a

plausible reason for regarding him as the foe of the corn-spirit,

though originally, if I am right, the very freedom with which the

boar ranged at will through the corn led people to identify him with

the corn-spirit, to whom he was afterwards opposed as an enemy.

The view which identifies the pig with Osiris derives not a little

support from the sacrifice of pigs to him on the very day on which,

according to tradition, Osiris himself was killed; for thus the

killing of the pig was the annual representation of the killing of

Osiris, just as the throwing of the pigs into the caverns at the

Thesmophoria was an annual representation of the descent of

Persephone into the lower world; and both customs are parallel to

the European practice of killing a goat, cock, and so forth, at

harvest as a representative of the corn-spirit.

Again, the theory that the pig, originally Osiris himself,

afterwards came to be regarded as an embodiment of his enemy Typhon,

is supported by the similar relation of red-haired men and red oxen

to Typhon. For in regard to the red-haired men who were burned and

whose ashes were scattered with winnowing-fans, we have seen fair

grounds for believing that originally, like the red-haired puppies

killed at Rome in spring, they were representatives of the

corn-spirit himself that is, of Osiris, and were slain for the

express purpose of making the corn turn red or golden. Yet at a

later time these men were explained to be representatives, not of

Osiris, but of his enemy Typhon, and the killing of them was

regarded as an act of vengeance inflicted on the enemy of the god.

Similarly, the red oxen sacrificed by the Egyptians were said to be

offered on the ground of their resemblance to Typhon; though it is

more likely that originally they were slain on the ground of their

resemblance to the corn-spirit Osiris. We have seen that the ox is a

common representative of the corn-spirit and is slain as such on the

harvest-field.

Osiris was regularly identified with the bull Apis of Memphis and

the bull Mnevis of Heliopolis. But it is hard to say whether these

bulls were embodiments of him as the corn-spirit, as the red oxen

appear to have been, or whether they were not in origin entirely

distinct deities who came to be fused with Osiris at a later time.

The universality of the worship of these two bulls seems to put them

on a different footing from the ordinary sacred animals whose

worships were purely local. But whatever the original relation of

Apis to Osiris may have been, there is one fact about the former

which ought not to be passed over in a disquisition on the custom of

killing a god. Although the bull Apis was worshipped as a god with

much pomp and profound reverence, he was not suffered to live beyond

a certain length of time which was prescribed by the sacred books,

and on the expiry of which he was drowned in a holy spring. The

limit, according to Plutarch, was twenty-five years; but it cannot

always have been enforced, for the tombs of the Apis bulls have been

discovered in modern times, and from the inscriptions on them it

appears that in the twenty-second dynasty two of the holy steers

lived more than twenty-six years.

5. Virbius and the Horse

WE are now in a position to hazard a conjecture as to the meaning of

the tradition that Virbius, the first of the divine Kings of the

Wood at Aricia, had been killed in the character of Hippolytus by

horses. Having found, first, that spirits of the corn are not

infrequently represented in the form of horses; and, second, that

the animal which in later legends is said to have injured the god

was sometimes originally the god himself, we may conjecture that the

horses by which Virbius or Hippolytus was said to have been slain

were really embodiments of him as a deity of vegetation. The myth

that he had been killed by horses was probably invented to explain

certain features in his worship, amongst others the custom of

excluding horses from his sacred grove. For myth changes while

custom remains constant; men continue to do what their fathers did

before them, though the reasons on which their fathers acted have

been long forgotten. The history of religion is a long attempt to

reconcile old custom with new reason, to find a sound theory for an

absurd practice. In the case before us we may be sure that the myth

is more modern than the custom and by no means represents the

original reason for excluding horses from the grove. From their

exclusion it might be inferred that horses could not be the sacred

animals or embodiments of the god of the grove. But the inference

would be rash. The goat was at one time a sacred animal or

embodiment of Athena, as may be inferred from the practice of

representing the goddess clad in a goat-skin (_aegis_). Yet the goat

was neither sacrificed to her as a rule, nor allowed to enter her

great sanctuary, the Acropolis at Athens. The reason alleged for

this was that the goat injured the olive, the sacred tree of Athena.

So far, therefore, the relation of the goat to Athena is parallel to

the relation of the horse to Virbius, both animals being excluded

from the sanctuary on the ground of injury done by them to the god.

But from Varro we learn that there was an exception to the rule

which excluded the goat from the Acropolis. Once a year, he says,

the goat was driven on to the Acropolis for a necessary sacrifice.

Now, as has been remarked before, when an animal is sacrificed once

and once only in the year, it is probably slain, not as a victim

offered to the god, but as a representative of the god himself.

Therefore we may infer that if a goat was sacrificed on the

Acropolis once a year, it was sacrificed in the character of Athena

herself; and it may be conjectured that the skin of the sacrificed

animal was placed on the statue of the goddess and formed the

_aegis,_ which would thus be renewed annually. Similarly at Thebes

in Egypt rams were sacred and were not sacrificed. But on one day in

the year a ram was killed, and its skin was placed on the statue of

the god Ammon. Now, if we knew the ritual of the Arician grove

better, we might find that the rule of excluding horses from it,

like the rule of excluding goats from the Acropolis at Athens, was

subject to an annual exception, a horse being once a year taken into

the grove and sacrificed as an embodiment of the god Virbius. By the

usual misunderstanding the horse thus killed would come in time to

be regarded as an enemy offered up in sacrifice to the god whom he

had injured, like the pig which was sacrificed to Demeter and Osiris

or the goat which was sacrificed to Dionysus, and possibly to

Athena. It is so easy for a writer to record a rule without noticing

an exception that we need not wonder at finding the rule of the

Arician grove recorded without any mention of an exception such as I

suppose. If we had had only the statements of Athenaeus and Pliny,

we should have known only the rule which forbade the sacrifice of

goats to Athena and excluded them from the Acropolis, without being

aware of the important exception which the fortunate preservation of

Varro's work has revealed to us.

The conjecture that once a year a horse may have been sacrificed in

the Arician grove as a representative of the deity of the grove

derives some support from the similar sacrifice of a horse which

took place once a year at Rome. On the fifteenth of October in each

year a chariot-race was run on the Field of Mars. Stabbed with a

spear, the right-hand horse of the victorious team was then

sacrificed to Mars for the purpose of ensuring good crops, and its

head was cut off and adorned with a string of loaves. Thereupon the

inhabitants of two wards--the Sacred Way and the Subura--contended

with each other who should get the head. If the people of the Sacred

Way got it, they fastened it to a wall of the king's house; if the

people of the Subura got it, they fastened it to the Mamilian tower.

The horse's tail was cut off and carried to the king's house with

such speed that the blood dripped on the hearth of the house.

Further, it appears that the blood of the horse was caught and

preserved till the twenty-first of April, when the Vestal Virgins

mixed it with the blood of the unborn calves which had been

sacrificed six days before. The mixture was then distributed to

shepherds, and used by them for fumigating their flocks.

In this ceremony the decoration of the horse's head with a string of

loaves, and the alleged object of the sacrifice, namely, to procure

a good harvest, seem to indicate that the horse was killed as one of

those animal representatives of the corn-spirit of which we have

found so many examples. The custom of cutting off the horse's tail

is like the African custom of cutting off the tails of the oxen and

sacrificing them to obtain a good crop. In both the Roman and the

African custom the animal apparently stands for the corn-spirit, and

its fructifying power is supposed to reside especially in its tail.

The latter idea occurs, as we have seen, in European folk-lore.

Again, the practice of fumigating the cattle in spring with the

blood of the horse may be compared with the practice of giving the

Old Wife, the Maiden, or the _clyack_ sheaf as fodder to the horses

in spring or the cattle at Christmas, and giving the Yule Boar to

the ploughing oxen or horses to eat in spring. All these usages aim

at ensuring the blessing of the corn-spirit on the homestead and its

inmates and storing it up for another year.

The Roman sacrifice of the October horse, as it was called, carries

us back to the early days when the Subura, afterwards a low and

squalid quarter of the great metropolis, was still a separate

village, whose inhabitants engaged in a friendly contest on the

harvest-field with their neighbours of Rome, then a little rural

town. The Field of Mars on which the ceremony took place lay beside

the Tiber, and formed part of the king's domain down to the

abolition of the monarchy. For tradition ran that at the time when

the last of the kings was driven from Rome, the corn stood ripe for

the sickle on the crown lands beside the river; but no one would eat

the accursed grain and it was flung into the river in such heaps

that, the water being low with the summer heat, it formed the

nucleus of an island. The horse sacrifice was thus an old autumn

custom observed upon the king's corn-fields at the end of the

harvest. The tail and blood of the horse, as the chief parts of the

corn-spirit's representative, were taken to the king's house and

kept there; just as in Germany the harvest-cock is nailed on the

gable or over the door of the farmhouse; and as the last sheaf, in

the form of the Maiden, is carried home and kept over the fireplace

in the Highlands of Scotland. Thus the blessing of the corn-spirit

was brought to the king's house and hearth and, through them, to the

community of which he was the head. Similarly in the spring and

autumn customs of Northern Europe the May-pole is sometimes set up

in front of the house of the mayor or burgomaster, and the last

sheaf at harvest is brought to him as the head of the village. But

while the tail and blood fell to the king, the neighbouring village

of the Subura, which no doubt once had a similar ceremony of its

own, was gratified by being allowed to compete for the prize of the

horse's head. The Mamilian tower, to which the Suburans nailed the

horse's head when they succeeded in carrying it off, appears to have

been a peel-tower or keep of the old Mamilian family, the magnates

of the village. The ceremony thus performed on the king's fields and

at his house on behalf of the whole town and of the neighbouring

village presupposes a time when each township performed a similar

ceremony on its own fields. In the rural districts of Latium the

villages may have continued to observe the custom, each on its own

land, long after the Roman hamlets had merged their separate

harvest-homes in the common celebration on the king's lands. There

is no intrinsic improbability in the supposition that the sacred

grove of Aricia, like the Field of Mars at Rome, may have been the

scene of a common harvest celebration, at which a horse was

sacrificed with the same rude rites on behalf of the neighbouring

villages. The horse would represent the fructifying spirit both of

the tree and of the corn, for the two ideas melt into each other, as

we see in customs like the Harvest-May.

L. Eating the God

1. The Sacrament of First-Fruits

WE have now seen that the corn-spirit is represented sometimes in

human, sometimes in animal form, and that in both cases he is killed

in the person of his representative and eaten sacramentally. To find

examples of actually killing the human representative of the

corn-spirit we had naturally to go to savage races; but the

harvest-suppers of our European peasants have furnished unmistakable

examples of the sacramental eating of animals as representatives of

the corn-spirit. But further, as might have been anticipated, the

new corn is itself eaten sacramentally, that is, as the body of the

corn-spirit. In Wermland, Sweden, the farmer's wife uses the grain

of the last sheaf to bake a loaf in the shape of a little girl; this

loaf is divided amongst the whole household and eaten by them. Here

the loaf represents the corn-spirit conceived as a maiden; just as

in Scotland the corn-spirit is similarly conceived and represented

by the last sheaf made up in the form of a woman and bearing the

name of the Maiden. As usual, the corn-spirit is believed to reside

in the last sheaf; and to eat a loaf made from the last sheaf is,

therefore, to eat the corn-spirit itself. Similarly at La Palisse,

in France, a man made of dough is hung upon the fir-tree which is

carried on the last harvest-waggon. The tree and the dough-man are

taken to the mayor's house and kept there till the vintage is over.

Then the close of the harvest is celebrated by a feast at which the

mayor breaks the dough-man in pieces and gives the pieces to the

people to eat.

In these examples the corn-spirit is represented and eaten in human

shape. In other cases, though the new corn is not baked in loaves of

human shape, still the solemn ceremonies with which it is eaten

suffice to indicate that it is partaken of sacramentally, that is,

as the body of the corn-spirit. For example, the following

ceremonies used to be observed by Lithuanian peasants at eating the

new corn. About the time of the autumn sowing, when all the corn had

been got in and the threshing had begun, each farmer held a festival

called Sabarios, that is, "the mixing or throwing together." He took

nine good handfuls of each kind of crop--wheat, barley, oats, flax,

beans, lentils, and the rest; and each handful he divided into three

parts. The twentyseven portions of each grain were then thrown on a

heap and all mixed up together. The grain used had to be that which

was first threshed and winnowed and which had been set aside and

kept for this purpose. A part of the grain thus mixed was employed

to bake little loaves, one for each of the household; the rest was

mixed with more barley or oats and made into beer. The first beer

brewed from this mixture was for the drinking of the farmer, his

wife, and children; the second brew was for the servants. The beer

being ready, the farmer chose an evening when no stranger was

expected. Then he knelt down before the barrel of beer, drew a

jugful of the liquor and poured it on the bung of the barrel,

saying, "O fruitful earth, make rye and barley and all kinds of corn

to flourish." Next he took the jug to the parlour, where his wife

and children awaited him. On the floor of the parlour lay bound a

black or white or speckled (not a red) cock and a hen of the same

colour and of the same brood, which must have been hatched within

the year. Then the farmer knelt down, with the jug in his hand, and

thanked God for the harvest and prayed for a good crop next year.

Next all lifted up their hands and said, "O God, and thou, O earth,

we give you this cock and hen as a free-will offering." With that

the farmer killed the fowls with the blows of a wooden spoon, for he

might not cut their heads off. After the first prayer and after

killing each of the birds he poured out a third of the beer. Then

his wife boiled the fowls in a new pot which had never been used

before. After that, a bushel was set, bottom upwards, on the floor,

and on it were placed the little loaves mentioned above and the

boiled fowls. Next the new beer was fetched, together with a ladle

and three mugs, none of which was used except on this occasion. When

the farmer had ladled the beer into the mugs, the family knelt down

round the bushel. The father then uttered a prayer and drank off the

three mugs of beer. The rest followed his example. Then the loaves

and the flesh of the fowls were eaten, after which the beer went

round again, till every one had emptied each of the three mugs nine

times. None of the food should remain over; but if anything did

happen to be left, it was consumed next morning with the same

ceremonies. The bones were given to the dog to eat; if he did not

eat them all up, the remains were buried under the dung in the

cattle-stall. This ceremony was observed at the beginning of

December. On the day on which it took place no bad word might be

spoken.

Such was the custom about two hundred years or more ago. At the

present day in Lithuania, when new potatoes or loaves made from the

new corn are being eaten, all the people at table pull each other's

hair. The meaning of this last custom is obscure, but a similar

custom was certainly observed by the heathen Lithuanians at their

solemn sacrifices. Many of the Esthonians of the island of Oesel

will not eat bread baked of the new corn till they have first taken

a bite at a piece of iron. The iron is here plainly a charm,

intended to render harmless the spirit that is in the corn. In

Sutherlandshire at the present day, when the new potatoes are dug

all the family must taste them, otherwise "the spirits in them [the

potatoes] take offence, and the potatoes would not keep." In one

part of Yorkshire it is still customary for the clergyman to cut the

first corn; and my informant believes that the corn so cut is used

to make the communion bread. If the latter part of the custom is

correctly reported (and analogy is all in its favour), it shows how

the Christian communion has absorbed within itself a sacrament which

is doubtless far older than Christianity.

The Aino or Ainu of Japan are said to distinguish various kinds of

millet as male and female respectively, and these kinds, taken

together, are called "the divine husband and wife cereal" (_Umurek

haru kamui_). "Therefore before millet is pounded and made into

cakes for general eating, the old men have a few made for themselves

first to worship. When they are ready they pray to them very

earnestly and say: 'O thou cereal deity, we worship thee. Thou hast

grown very well this year, and thy flavour will be sweet. Thou art

good. The goddess of fire will be glad, and we also shall rejoice

greatly. O thou god, O thou divine cereal, do thou nourish the

people. I now partake of thee. I worship thee and give thee thanks.'

After having thus prayed, they, the worshippers, take a cake and eat

it, and from this time the people may all partake of the new millet.

And so with many gestures of homage and words of prayer this kind of

food is dedicated to the well-being of the Ainu. No doubt the cereal

offering is regarded as a tribute paid to a god, but that god is no

other than the seed itself; and it is only a god in so far as it is

beneficial to the human body."

At the close of the rice harvest in the East Indian island of Buru,

each clan meets at a common sacramental meal, to which every member

of the clan is bound to contribute a little of the new rice. This

meal is called "eating the soul of the rice," a name which clearly

indicates the sacramental character of the repast. Some of the rice

is also set apart and offered to the spirits. Amongst the Alfoors of

Minahassa, in Celebes, the priest sows the first rice-seed and

plucks the first ripe rice in each field. This rice he roasts and

grinds into meal, and gives some of it to each of the household.

Shortly before the rice-harvest in Boland Mongondo, another district

of Celebes, an offering is made of a small pig or a fowl. Then the

priest plucks a little rice, first on his own field and next on

those of his neighbours. All the rice thus plucked by him he dries

along with his own, and then gives it back to the respective owners,

who have it ground and boiled. When it is boiled the women take it

back, with an egg, to the priest, who offers the egg in sacrifice

and returns the rice to the women. Of this rice every member of the

family, down to the youngest child, must partake. After this

ceremony every one is free to get in his rice.

Amongst the Burghers or Badagas, a tribe of the Neilgherry Hills in

Southern India, the first handful of seed is sown and the first

sheaf reaped by a Curumbar, a man of a different tribe, the members

of which the Burghers regard as sorcerers. The grain contained in

the first sheaf "is that day reduced to meal, made into cakes, and,

being offered as a first-fruit oblation, is, together with the

remainder of the sacrificed animal, partaken of by the Burgher and

the whole of his family, as the meat of a federal offering and

sacrifice." Among the Hindoos of Southern India the eating of the

new rice is the occasion of a family festival called Pongol. The new

rice is boiled in a new pot on a fire which is kindled at noon on

the day when, according to Hindoo astrologers, the sun enters the

tropic of Capricorn. The boiling of the pot is watched with great

anxiety by the whole family, for as the milk boils, so will the

coming year be. If the milk boils rapidly, the year will be

prosperous; but it will be the reverse if the milk boils slowly.

Some of the new boiled rice is offered to the image of Ganesa; then

every one partakes of it. In some parts of Northern India the

festival of the new crop is known as _Navan,_ that is, "new grain."

When the crop is ripe, the owner takes the omens, goes to the field,

plucks five or six ears of barley in the spring crop and one of the

millets in the autumn harvest. This is brought home, parched, and

mixed with coarse sugar, butter, and curds. Some of it is thrown on

the fire in the name of the village gods and deceased ancestors; the

rest is eaten by the family.

The ceremony of eating the new yams at Onitsha, on the Niger, is

thus described: "Each headman brought out six yams, and cut down

young branches of palm-leaves and placed them before his gate,

roasted three of the yams, and got some kola-nuts and fish. After

the yam is roasted, the _Libia,_ or country doctor, takes the yam,

scrapes it into a sort of meal, and divides it into halves; he then

takes one piece, and places it on the lips of the person who is

going to eat the new yam. The eater then blows up the steam from the

hot yam, and afterwards pokes the whole into his mouth, and says, 'I

thank God for being permitted to eat the new yam'; he then begins to

chew it heartily, with fish likewise."

Among the Nandi of British East Africa, when the eleusine grain is

ripening in autumn, every woman who owns a corn-field goes out into

it with her daughters, and they all pluck some of the ripe grain.

Each of the women then fixes one grain in her necklace and chews

another, which she rubs on her forehead, throat, and breast. No mark

of joy escapes them; sorrowfully they cut a basketful of the new

corn, and carrying it home place it in the loft to dry. As the

ceiling is of wickerwork, a good deal of the grain drops through the

crevices and falls into the fire, where it explodes with a crackling

noise. The people make no attempt to prevent this waste; for they

regard the crackling of the grain in the fire as a sign that the

souls of the dead are partaking of it. A few days later porridge is

made from the new grain and served up with milk at the evening meal.

All the members of the family take some of the porridge and dab it

on the walls and roofs of the huts; also they put a little in their

mouths and spit it out towards the east and on the outside of the

huts. Then, holding up some of the grain in his hand, the head of

the family prays to God for health and strength, and likewise for

milk, and everybody present repeats the words of the prayer after

him.

Amongst the Caffres of Natal and Zululand, no one may eat of the new

fruits till after a festival which marks the beginning of the Caffre

year and falls at the end of December or the beginning of January.

All the people assemble at the king's kraal, where they feast and

dance. Before they separate the "dedication of the people" takes

place. Various fruits of the earth, as corn, mealies, and pumpkins,

mixed with the flesh of a sacrificed animal and with "medicine," are

boiled in great pots, and a little of this food is placed in each

man's mouth by the king himself. After thus partaking of the

sanctified fruits, a man is himself sanctified for the whole year,

and may immediately get in his crops. It is believed that if any man

were to partake of the new fruits before the festival, he would die;

if he were detected, he would be put to death, or at least all his

cattle would be taken from him. The holiness of the new fruits is

well marked by the rule that they must be cooked in a special pot

which is used only for this purpose, and on a new fire kindled by a

magician through the friction of two sticks which are called

"husband and wife."

Among the Bechuanas it is a rule that before they partake of the new

crops they must purify themselves. The purification takes place at

the commencement of the new year on a day in January which is fixed

by the chief. It begins in the great kraal of the tribe, where all

the adult males assemble. Each of them takes in his hand leaves of a

gourd called by the natives _lerotse_ (described as something

between a pumpkin and a vegetable marrow); and having crushed the

leaves he anoints with the expressed juice his big toes and his

navel; many people indeed apply the juice to all the joints of their

body, but the better-informed say that this is a vulgar departure

from ancient custom. After this ceremony in the great kraal every

man goes home to his own kraal, assembles all the members of his

family, men, women, and children, and smears them all with the juice

of the _lerotse_ leaves. Some of the leaves are also pounded, mixed

with milk in a large wooden dish, and given to the dogs to lap up.

Then the porridge plate of each member of the family is rubbed with

the _lerotse_ leaves. When this purification has been completed, but

not before, the people are free to eat of the new crops.

The Bororo Indians of Brazil think that it would be certain death to

eat the new maize before it has been blessed by the medicine-man.

The ceremony of blessing it is as follows. The half-ripe husk is

washed and placed before the medicine-man, who by dancing and

singing for several hours, and by incessant smoking, works himself

up into a state of ecstasy, whereupon he bites into the husk,

trembling in every limb and uttering shrieks from time to time. A

similar ceremony is performed whenever a large animal or a large

fish is killed. The Bororo are firmly persuaded that were any man to

touch unconsecrated maize or meat, before the ceremony had been

completed, he and his whole tribe would perish.

Amongst the Creek Indians of North America, the _busk_ or festival

of first-fruits was the chief ceremony of the year. It was held in

July or August, when the corn was ripe, and marked the end of the

old year and the beginning of the new one. Before it took place,

none of the Indians would eat or even handle any part of the new

harvest. Sometimes each town had its own busk; sometimes several

towns united to hold one in common. Before celebrating the busk, the

people provided themselves with new clothes and new household

utensils and furniture; they collected their old clothes and

rubbish, together with all the remaining grain and other old

provisions, cast them together in one common heap, and consumed them

with fire. As a preparation for the ceremony, all the fires in the

village were extinguished, and the ashes swept clean away. In

particular, the hearth or altar of the temple was dug up and the

ashes carried out. Then the chief priest put some roots of the

button-snake plant, with some green tobacco leaves and a little of

the new fruits, at the bottom of the fireplace, which he afterwards

commanded to be covered up with white clay, and wetted over with

clean water. A thick arbour of green branches of young trees was

then made over the altar. Meanwhile the women at home were cleaning

out their houses, renewing the old hearths, and scouring all the

cooking vessels that they might be ready to receive the new fire and

the new fruits. The public or sacred square was carefully swept of

even the smallest crumbs of previous feasts, "for fear of polluting

the first-fruit offerings." Also every vessel that had contained or

had been used about any food during the expiring year was removed

from the temple before sunset. Then all the men who were not known

to have violated the law of the first-fruit offering and that of

marriage during the year were summoned by a crier to enter the holy

square and observe a solemn fast. But the women (except six old

ones), the children, and all who had not attained the rank of

warriors were forbidden to enter the square. Sentinels were also

posted at the corners of the square to keep out all persons deemed

impure and all animals. A strict fast was then observed for two

nights and a day, the devotees drinking a bitter decoction of

button-snake root "in order to vomit and purge their sinful bodies."

That the people outside the square might also be purified, one of

the old men laid down a quantity of green tobacco at a corner of the

square; this was carried off by an old woman and distributed to the

people without, who chewed and swallowed it "in order to afflict

their souls." During this general fast, the women, children, and men

of weak constitution were allowed to eat after mid-day, but not

before. On the morning when the fast ended, the women brought a

quantity of the old year's food to the outside of the sacred square.

These provisions were then fetched in and set before the famished

multitude, but all traces of them had to be removed before noon.

When the sun was declining from the meridian, all the people were

commanded by the voice of a crier to stay within doors, to do no bad

act, and to be sure to extinguish and throw away every spark of the

old fire. Universal silence now reigned. Then the high priest made

the new fire by the friction of two pieces of wood, and placed it on

the altar under the green arbour. This new fire was believed to

atone for all past crimes except murder. Next a basket of new fruits

was brought; the high priest took out a little of each sort of

fruit, rubbed it with bear's oil, and offered it, together with some

flesh, "to the bountiful holy spirit of fire, as a first-fruit

offering, and an annual oblation for sin." He also consecrated the

sacred emetics (the button-snake root and the cassina or

black-drink) by pouring a little of them into the fire. The persons

who had remained outside now approached, without entering, the

sacred square; and the chief priest thereupon made a speech,

exhorting the people to observe their old rites and customs,

announcing that the new divine fire had purged away the sins of the

past year, and earnestly warning the women that, if any of them had

not extinguished the old fire, or had contracted any impurity, they

must forthwith depart, "lest the divine fire should spoil both them

and the people." Some of the new fire was then set down outside the

holy square; the women carried it home joyfully, and laid it on

their unpolluted hearths. When several towns had united to celebrate

the festival, the new fire might thus be carried for several miles.

The new fruits were then dressed on the new fires and eaten with

bear's oil, which was deemed indispensable. At one point of the

festival the men rubbed the new corn between their hands, then on

their faces and breasts. During the festival which followed, the

warriors, dressed in their wild martial array, their heads covered

with white down and carrying white feathers in their hands, danced

round the sacred arbour, under which burned the new fire. The

ceremonies lasted eight days, during which the strictest continence

was practised. Towards the conclusion of the festival the warriors

fought a mock battle; then the men and women together, in three

circles, danced round the sacred fire. Lastly, all the people

smeared themselves with white clay and bathed in running water. They

came out of the water believing that no evil could now befall them

for what they had done amiss in the past. So they departed in joy

and peace.

To this day, also, the remnant of the Seminole Indians of Florida, a

people of the same stock as the Creeks, hold an annual purification

and festival called the Green Corn Dance, at which the new corn is

eaten. On the evening of the first day of the festival they quaff a

nauseous "Black Drink," as it is called, which acts both as an

emetic and a purgative; they believe that he who does not drink of

this liquor cannot safely eat the new green corn, and besides that

he will be sick at some time in the year. While the liquor is being

drunk, the dancing begins, and the medicine-men join in it. Next day

they eat of the green corn; the following day they fast, probably

from fear of polluting the sacred food in their stomachs by contact

with common food; but the third day they hold a great feast.

Even tribes which do not till the ground sometimes observe analogous

ceremonies when they gather the first wild fruits or dig the first

roots of the season. Thus among the Salish and Tinneh Indians of

North-West America, "before the young people eat the first berries

or roots of the season, they always addressed the fruit or plant,

and begged for its favour and aid. In some tribes regular

First-fruit ceremonies were annually held at the time of picking the

wild fruit or gathering the roots, and also among the salmon-eating

tribes when the run of the 'sockeye' salmon began. These ceremonies

were not so much thanksgivings, as performances to ensure a

plentiful crop or supply of the particular object desired, for if

they were not properly and reverently carried out there was danger

of giving offence to the 'spirits' of the objects, and being

deprived of them." For example, these Indians are fond of the young

shoots or suckers of the wild raspberry, and they observe a solemn

ceremony at eating the first of them in season. The shoots are

cooked in a new pot: the people assemble and stand in a great circle

with closed eyes, while the presiding chief or medicine-man invokes

the spirit of the plant, begging that it will be propitious to them

and grant them a good supply of suckers. After this part of the

ceremony is over the cooked suckers are handed to the presiding

officer in a newly carved dish, and a small portion is given to each

person present, who reverently and decorously eats it.

The Thompson Indians of British Columbia cook and eat the sunflower

root (_Balsamorrhiza sagittata,_ Nutt.), but they used to regard it

as a mysterious being, and observed a number of taboos in connexion

with it; for example, women who were engaged in digging or cooking

the root must practice continence, and no man might come near the

oven where the women were baking the root. When young people ate the

first berries, roots, or other products of the season, they

addressed a prayer to the Sunflower-Root as follows: "I inform thee

that I intend to eat thee. Mayest thou always help me to ascend, so

that I may always be able to reach the tops of mountains, and may I

never be clumsy! I ask this from thee, Sunflower-Root. Thou art the

greatest of all in mystery." To omit this prayer would make the

eater lazy and cause him to sleep long in the morning.

These customs of the Thompson and other Indian tribes of North-West

America are instructive, because they clearly indicate the motive,

or at least one of the motives, which underlies the ceremonies

observed at eating the first fruits of the season. That motive in

the case of these Indians is simply a belief that the plant itself

is animated by a conscious and more or less powerful spirit, who

must be propitiated before the people can safely partake of the

fruits or roots which are supposed to be part of his body. Now if

this is true of wild fruits and roots, we may infer with some

probability that it is also true of cultivated fruits and roots,

such as yams, and in particular that it holds good of the cereals,

such as wheat, barley, oats, rice, and maize. In all cases it seems

reasonable to infer that the scruples which savages manifest at

eating the first fruits of any crop, and the ceremonies which they

observe before they overcome their scruples, are due at least in

large measure to a notion that the plant or tree is animated by a

spirit or even a deity, whose leave must be obtained, or whose

favour must be sought, before it is possible to partake with safety

of the new crop. This indeed is plainly affirmed of the Aino: they

call the millet "the divine cereal," "the cereal deity," and they

pray to and worship him before they will eat of the cakes made from

the new millet. And even where the indwelling divinity of the first

fruits is not expressly affirmed, it appears to be implied both by

the solemn preparations made for eating them and by the danger

supposed to be incurred by persons who venture to partake of them

without observing the prescribed ritual. In all such cases,

accordingly, we may not improperly describe the eating of the new

fruits as a sacrament or communion with a deity, or at all events

with a powerful spirit.

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