It is on record that Wilhelm Mannhardt, the eminent writer on
mythology and folk-lore, was once taken for a gnome by a peasant he
had been questioning. His personal appearance may have helped the
illusion; he was small and irregularly made, and was then only just
emerging from a sickly childhood spent beside the Baltic in dreaming
over the creations of popular fancy. Then, too, he wore a little red
cap, which was doubtless fraught with supernatural suggestions. But
above all, the story proves that Mannhardt had solved the difficulty
of dealing with primitive folk; that instead of being looked upon as
a profane and prying layman, he was regarded as one who was more than
initiated into the mysteries--as one who was a mystery himself. And
for this reason I recall it here. It exactly indicates the way to
set about seeking after old lore. We ought to shake off as much as
possible of our conventional civilization which frightens uneducated
peasants, and makes them think, at best, that we wish to turn them
into ridicule. If we must not hope to pass for spirits of earth or
air, we can aim at inspiring such a measure of confidence as will
persuade the natural man to tell us what he still knows of those
vanishing beings, and to lend us the key to his general treasure-box
before all that is inside be reduced to dust.
This, which applies directly to the collector at first hand, has also
its application for the student who would profit by the materials when
collected. He should approach popular songs and traditions from some
other stand-point than that of mere criticism; and divesting himself
of preconcerted ideas, he should try to live the life and think the
thoughts of people whose only literature is that which they carry
in their heads, and in whom Imagination takes the place of acquired
knowledge.