I have mentioned some cases where corpses have played remedial parts. A few more illustrations may be added, more clearly to bring out the real meaning of the prescriptions, which are divisible into two classes—the one wherein the patient himself is brought into contact with the body, or with some article that has belonged to it, or been in contact with it; the other wherein articles belonging to the patient, or which have been part of, or in contact with, his body are deposited in the coffin, or the grave, and thus brought into permanent connection with the dead. The intention of both appears to be the same, namely, to bring the disease into union with the corpse, in order that, as the latter suffers decay and dissolution, it also may decay and perish.
In enumerating a few instances of the former class, let me first refer to the fact that touching or stroking with the hand of a corpse is a remedy known in every part of Europe for superficial growths like wens, tetters, and swollen glands. In September 1892, a fashionably dressed young woman was one day seen hovering about a physician’s residence in the north of Berlin. When he went out she met him and timidly prayed him to take her, when he had an opportunity, to a dead body. He thought she must be suffering from overstrain or mental disorder, and brusquely refused her. In nowise daunted, however, she begged him earnestly to grant her request, explaining that her object was to remove a deformity. As she said this, she laid bare a delicate white hand blemished by a bony outgrowth, known among surgeons as exostosis. The medical man became interested; and it was not long before he stood with her in the presence of a corpse. The lady grasped the cold right hand and with it repeatedly and silently stroked the ugly excrescence. Then, without speaking, she left the room in all haste; nor was the physician able to learn who she was, or what had led her to seek this means of relief.163.1 In the good old days, when what was called Justice was chiefly exhibited in hanging men with short shrift on every convenient pretext and at every convenient place, this remedy was much easier to obtain than it is to-day. In Europe it was universal; and perhaps it was partly the facility for touching an executed criminal that led to a preference in popular pharmacopœia for such corpses. Partly also it may have arisen from another cause. The victims of violence are often regarded as endowed after death with extraordinary virtue. When that violence took the form of persecution for adherence to the Church, the Church herself encouraged and systematised the superstition to her own profit. Popular sympathy with unmerited suffering extended the Church’s doctrine to other murders, judicial murders among them. And often the Church did not hesitate to sanction the popular canonisation, and appropriate the material gains that followed. But beyond all that the Church could sanction, there remained a margin constantly supplied by the bloodthirsty tribunals, as well as by private enterprise. The former may have been more regular in their action; but one thing is certain. Their victims were more uniformly derived from the classes which were chiefly concerned in forming and preserving tradition. The feeling of oppression would be likely to generalise all executions into martyrdoms, entailing miraculous powers analogous to those recognised by the Church. This would be enough to intensify the operation of any potency believed to be the ordinary property of a corpse, and so to favour the resort to the bodies of criminals.164.1
Be this as it may, remedies derived from the dead were, and still are, popular. The Saxons of the Seven Cities cure wens and scrofula by drawing a silken thread through a corpse’s hand and then binding it round the patient’s neck. They hold that a silken band out of a grave is a protection against epilepsy. Earth from a sucking infant’s grave is put upon the mother’s breast to dry up her milk. Gout is healed by rubbing a rag from a dead man’s clothes on the suffering parts and hanging it all night upon a tree. Against cramp, a string wherewith a corpse has been measured is worn on the body next to the skin. A drunkard’s craving for drink is stayed by giving him some of what he best loves, poured over a silver coin which has been placed in a corpse’s mouth. Diseases of the eyes are cured by going early on a fine Sunday morning in spring to a pious man’s grave, and washing the eyes in the dew that lies upon it. Herbs grown in the churchyard, and gathered on Good Friday when the bells are sounding for service, are good against every kind of sickness.165.1 Among the Poles and Masurs it is believed that to smell a flower growing in the churchyard causes permanent loss of the sense of smell.165.2 The Negro population of Barbados resorts to the touch of a dead hand for all swellings and chronic pains, and believes that to wash the eyes in rum which has been used to wash a corpse is to be safe from disease of the eyes for the future.165.3 In the Abruzzi the hand of a dead priest has potency against scrofulous tumours, and a certain remedy for headache is to rub the forehead and temples with the tears of a dying man.165.4 A prescription in Middle Silesia, against epilepsy and against toothache is a ring smithied from a coffin-nail found in a grave.165.5 In the Netherlands an aching tooth is rubbed with a bone from the churchyard; or, in the province of Namur, the sufferer goes to bite a cross erected on the wayside where a violent death has occurred.166.1 The bone, among the Masurs and generally in Prussia, is replaced by the index-finger of a corpse.166.2 In old French belief it should be a tooth, if possible the tooth of a man who has come to a violent end, as by hanging; and the best time for its application is on Holy Saturday when the bells are ringing. Other French prescriptions are: for fever, to hang round the neck a human bone taken from the graveyard, or the hem torn (not cut) from a winding-sheet; for colic or lapsus ani, to cut the hem from a winding-sheet, pass it under the loins and wear it as a girdle; for hydrophobia, pills made of the head of a man who has been hanged.166.3 In Silesia water left on tombstones will send freckles away. At Gernsbach, in the neighbourhood of Spire, to smear a goitre with the wick of a lamp that has burnt in a dying man’s room will heal it.166.4 To cure a Bosnian drunkard, extinguish in brandy one of the candles burning at the head of a corpse before the funeral, and give him the brandy to drink. Even a bit of the wick when the candle is put out in the ordinary course, given in brandy, will be sufficient; or indeed brandy bought with a coin which has been used to close the eyes of the dead.167.1 The last is doubtless a degenerate form of a superstition akin to that of the Transylvanian Saxons adduced just now. In the Lettish prescription the corpse’s mouth is to be washed out, and the water given to the tippler. After drinking it, we are told, he can never drink again, which is quite likely.167.2 The reasoning which has given rise to all these beliefs perhaps applies also to the tradition in Wales, Ireland and the Isle of Man that it is unlucky to disturb old burial-places and old churches, and utilise their materials. Professor Rhys relates an example in which a farmer in the Ronnag, a small valley near South Barrule, in the Isle of Man, carted earth from an old burial-ground and used it to manure his fields. His cattle died, and every one attributed it to this cause. The farmer himself was convinced at last, and desisted from the desecration.167.3 A similar story is told of a cattle-dealer in the parish of Templepatrick, near Belfast, who attempted to use the soil of an ancient fort as a top-dressing for his land.167.4 We may compare with these instances a curious Manx curse: “May a stone of the church be found in the head of thy dwelling!”167.5 It would seem as if that which had been part of, or had become by contact united with, the dead, or had been part of the subject of a taboo, were still, notwithstanding severance, in indissoluble connection with the remainder, and thus capable of communicating its evil effects or of bringing into similar connection any other object. Too much stress, however, cannot be laid on this conjecture at present. The question needs further investigation.
The other class of prescriptions consists of such as the following. An English cure for boils mentioned by Mr. Thiselton Dyer was to poultice for three days and nights, and then to place the poultices, cloths and all, in the coffin of a body about to be buried.168.1 In Germany, when a sucking babe dies, the mother puts a bottle of her milk in the coffin, and then the breast dries up without making her ill.168.2 To the same end a South Slavonic mother sticks in the infant’s shift over the breast two pins, probably to be taken from her own. The coffin-lid must not be nailed at the head and foot, else the mother will bear no more, or if she bear, it will be a difficult labour.168.3 In Silesia, to destroy lice, bugs and moths, it is recommended to catch a few specimens, bottle them up in a quill and secretly by a waning moon lay the quill in the coffin of a spotless maiden.168.4 The population of North Carolina is mainly of German descent. There, by the same process of logic, it is forbidden in making garments for the dead to bite the thread, lest the teeth rot.168.5 The Transylvanian Saxons spit into an open grave to heal sore throat.168.6 In East Prussia, as in West Sussex, a child is cured of a certain nightly offence by being taken to an open grave to repeat it.168.7 In Donegal, warts are got rid of by throwing some clay from under your right foot in the path by which a funeral is going, and by saying: “Corpse of clay, carry my warts away.” This must be done three times, and as the corpse decays in the grave the warts will vanish.169.1 As might be expected, to bring warts into contact with a corpse is a specially efficacious means of getting rid of them. In the Obererzgebirge warts or any other superficial ailments are rubbed with a piece of linen, which is then laid in the coffin with a corpse.169.2 To recover from the ague in the Netherlands the sufferer’s garter used to be tied round a gallows.169.3 When a death occurs in Poland, if anything has been stolen from the family, a similar object, or a piece of the same stuff, is laid in the coffin; and as it decays the thief withers away and dies. It is even enough, in case of robbery, to lay a portion of the stolen goods in the churchyard.169.4 We considered in the last chapter the identification of the thief with the property stolen, and no more need be added on the subject.
The principle which underlies all these practices dictated the sympathetic treatment of wounds by washing and keeping clean and bright the instrument inflicting them—a treatment taught by Paracelsus, believed in by Bacon and proclaimed as a valuable discovery by Sir Kenelm Digby, who learned it in France. Though long since discredited by science, it is still in use among the peasantry of England, and can be traced backwards into savagery. A few instances will suffice to exhibit the vast area over which it is found, and the different modes of its application. In Sussex a few years ago Mrs. Latham saw it actually in use. A man had been accidentally wounded by a sword-stick, and the whole time he was confined to his bed the sword-stick was kept hung at his bed’s head, and was polished at stated intervals day and night, and anxiously examined lest a spot of rust be found thereon; for that would have been a token that the wounded man would die.170.1 In Suffolk, if a horse be lamed by treading on a nail, the nail must be found, cleaned and kept bright and well greased; and in dressing a human wound the old plaster must be buried, not burnt, else the wound will not heal.170.2 Similar treatment of a wound by a tool or weapon was practised within the memory of living men by the descendants of the Dutch settlers in the Hudson River.170.3 About Schaffhausen and Solothurn it is held that if one be pricked with a needle, the wound will heal the sooner if the needle be at once plunged into wax.170.4 In the Tirol, in order to prevent a wound from giving trouble, the weapon that has caused it is immediately stuck into ash-wood.170.5 About Siena a nail which has inflicted any hurt is gently warmed over the fire with a clove of garlic in oil prepared from herbs gathered on Saint John’s day, and it is then used to sprinkle the oil about.170.6 In Esthonia, if you cut your finger, you are advised to bite the blade of the knife, and the wound will then cease to bleed.170.7 Among the Galician Jews, if a child fall on the floor, the pain will pass away, provided water be poured on the floor, at the spot where the child came in contact with it.171.1 These superstitions are not a whit more civilised than those of the races we call savage. Dr. Boas mentions a tribe of North American Indians who are very careful to keep the arrow that has wounded a friend concealed, and as far from the fire as possible; for he would be very ill if, while still covered with blood, it were put into the fire.171.2 Melanesians keep the arrow, when extracted, in a damp place, or in cool leaves; then the inflammation will be little and soon subside. A story is told by Dr. Codrington of a man who aimed at another with a ghost-shooter, that is to say, a magically prepared arrow which does not actually reach the foe, but is only believed to do so by being directed towards him. In this case the man’s next of kin, his sister’s child, happened to come between him and the object of his aim, and he felt sure he had hit it full. To prevent inflammation of the imaginary wound he put the contents of his ghost-shooter into water, and the child took no hurt. If a Melanesian have really shot another, and can get back the arrow, he puts it into the fire. To heat the wound he will keep the bow near the fire; and the bowstring will be kept taut and occasionally pulled, to bring on tension of the nerves and tetanus in the wounded man. Or a bundle of certain leaves, tied on the bow will produce a fatal result. Nor is this all. The assailant and his friends will drink hot and burning juices, and chew irritating leaves; they will burn pungent and bitter herbs to produce an irritating smoke. The wound by his arrow has set up such union between the shooter and his victim that these proceedings are expected to react upon the latter.172.1 The Zulus are said to have the like belief. They think that if the corpse of a slain enemy swell up, they themselves will suffer pain in the intestines. If they have time, therefore, they tear out the entrails of their fallen foes; if not, they pierce the navel with an assegai, as was done to the body of young Bonaparte, the Imperialist Pretender.172.2
“A hair of the dog that bit you” is a remedy which has passed into a proverb. In dealing with witchcraft we had occasion to note some instances of its application, as when the dust of a witch’s footprint is rubbed on the bespelled animal. The Abruzzians hold the bite of a cat to be venomous; and their prescription for it is a bit of the same cat’s fur applied with pounded garlic. So, for a serpent-bite a portion of the skin of the creature is put on the wound; but, as Signor Finamore remarks, the question is to get it.172.3 In Sicily the sting of one of the small scorpions found in damp places in the island is healed by scorpion-oil prepared from the same scorpion. The mode of preparing the oil is to decapitate the animal and plunge it into a vessel of oil, which is then closed tightly.172.4 In Devonshire a person who is bitten by a viper is advised at once to kill the creature and rub the wound with its fat; and the flesh of a rattlesnake is accounted the best cure for its own bite in the Northern States of America.172.5 In Belgium a dog’s bite is to be healed by inducing a bitch to lick the sore.173.1 The reason for the treatment is obscure in some of these cases; but we shall probably be right in referring its origin to the desire to set up union between the victim and the animal inflicting the wound, by means of a detached portion of the latter’s substance. This view is strengthened by the treatment directed, in the neighbourhood of Masulipatam, for a scorpion which has stung a man. The brute is to be caught by slipping a noose over its tail, and tied to something to prevent its wandering. For the more it wanders, the more the poison will wander in the man’s body; while to kill it may have the effect of killing its victim. Here the union by means of the injected poison is already complete, and the scorpion is dealt with accordingly.173.2
Folk-leechcraft thus provides us with further illustration of the theory lying at the foundation of the story-incident of the Life-token. A severed portion of the body, or any of its issues, or anything once in contact with it, though now detached, is none the less believed to continue in real, if unapparent, connection with it. Whatever, therefore, is undergone by the one, is undergone also by the other. For the purposes of healing, as of injury, to affect the one is to affect the other. It is curious that a large number of the remedies prescribed are of a character that, judging from the examples of witchcraft in the last chapter, one would suppose calculated to inflict injury rather than to heal. To hang in the chimney things which have become united with the patient’s body, or to put them into a coffin, if done with malicious intent, would certainly result in evil to the victim. We must, however, be at all times prepared to find tradition inconsistent. In the cases referred to, the disease is thought of, rather than the patient, as identified with the object operated on; and the intention is to destroy the disease by causing it to waste away. Probably the prescription was at first applied only to excrescences and other diseased growths, like warts, tumours and wens. These alone were touched by the dead hand, or by the cloth, or the spider, which was to be enclosed in the grave, or hung in the chimney. The remedy having been tried for them, would be extended to other ailments, without adverting to the reason of its primitive limitation. So far as regards objects committed to the keeping of the dead, a comparison of love-charms comprising the same process will have suggested an alternative explanation, namely, that they are brought thus into permanent contact with the corpse for the purpose of putting them under the influence of the departed spirit. This is a less materialistic explanation, and one that will have weight with students who can estimate the importance, in savage life, of the worship of the dead. It is possible that there may be an element of truth in it, as well as in the explanation which regards the objects as merely intended to be affected by the physical decay and corruption of the corpse. But, either way, is clearly necessary the postulate that the disease in the patient’s body is capable of being affected by the influence, whatever it may be, on the objects in contact with the dead,—that in them, and by means of them, the patient himself is actually in contact also.
In the light of the results thus obtained by an examination of certain of the methods of witchcraft and folk-medicine, we next approach a group of rites known in one form or other from shore to shore of the Old World, and the principle of which has regulated religious observances alike in North and South America. These rites are very numerous in the British islands; and it will be convenient to start from some of the most modern forms found in Great Britain. Professor Rhys, in a paper read a year or two ago before a joint meeting of the Cymmrodorion and Folklore Societies, quotes a correspondent as saying of Ffynnon Cae Moch, about half-way between Coychurch and Bridgend, in Glamorganshire: “People suffering from rheumatism go there. They bathe the part affected with water, and afterwards tie a piece of rag to the tree which overhangs the well. The rag is not put in the water at all, but is only put on the tree for luck. It is a stunted but very old tree, and is simply covered with rags.” In another case, that of Ffynnon Eilian (Elian’s Well), near Abergele in Denbighshire, of which Professor Rhys was informed by Mrs. Evans, the late wife of Canon Silvan Evans, some bushes near the well had once been covered with bits of rags left by those who frequented it. The rags used to be tied to the bushes by means of wool—not woollen yarn, but wool in its natural state. Corks with pins stuck in them were floating in the well when Mrs. Evans visited it, though the rags had apparently disappeared from the bushes. The well in question, it is noted, had once been in great repute as “a well to which people resorted for the kindly purpose of bewitching those whom they hated.” The Ffynnon Cefn Lleithfan, or Well of the Lleithfan Ridge, on the eastern slope of Mynydd y Rhiw, in the parish of Bryncroes, in the west of Carnarvonshire, is a resort for the cure of warts. The sacred character of the well may be inferred from the silence in which it is necessary to go and come, and from the prohibition to turn or look back. The wart is to be bathed at the well with a rag or clout, which has grease on it. The clout must then be carefully concealed beneath the stone at the mouth of the well. The Professor, repeating this account of the well, given him by a Welsh collector of folk-lore, says: “This brings to my mind the fact that I have, more than once, years ago, noticed rags underneath stones in the water flowing from wells in Wales, and sometimes thrust into holes in the walls of wells, but I had no notion how they came there.” The Rev. Elias Owen, writing on the Holy Wells of North Wales, relates that the patients who came to the Ffynnon Awen, or Muses’ Well, in the upper part of Llanrhaiadr, near Denbigh, buried under a stone close to or in the well the pieces of wool they had used in washing their wounds.176.1
Professor Rhys, in the paper just cited, mentions several wells wherein it was usual to drop pins; but the most detailed account was afterwards furnished by Mr. T. E. Morris, from a correspondent who supplied him with the following information relating to Ffynnon Faglan (St Baglan’s Well) in the parish of Llanfaglan, Carnarvonshire: “The old people who would be likely to know anything about Ffynnon Faglan have all died. The two oldest inhabitants, who have always lived in this parish (Llanfaglan), remember the well being used for healing purposes. One told me his mother used to take him to it when he was a child, for sore eyes, bathe them with the water, and then drop in a pin. The other man, when he was young, bathed in it for rheumatism, and until quite lately people used to fetch away the water for medicinal purposes. The latter, who lives near the well at Tan-y-graig, said that he remembered it being cleared out about fifty years ago, when two basins-full of pins were taken out, but no coin of any kind. The pins were all bent, and I conclude the intention was to exorcise the evil spirit supposed to afflict the person who dropped them in, or, as the Welsh say, dadwitsio. No doubt some ominous words were also used. The well is at present nearly dry, the field where it lies having been drained some years ago, and the water in consequence withdrawn from it. It was much used for the cure of warts. The wart was washed, then pricked with a pin, which, after being bent, was thrown into the well.”177.1
In England the custom is well known of throwing pins into the water or hanging rags torn from the devotee’s clothing upon the neighbouring bushes and trees.178.1 But without pausing on English examples we pass at once to Ireland. There sacred wells and other places of pilgrimage are numerous and interesting. Mr. W. C. Borlase, quoting from the manuscripts of the late Mr. Windele of Cork, mentions the cromlech of Maul na holtora, in Kerry, as reputed to contain a well to which a legend of a sacred fish attached. It was a place of pilgrimage every Saturday. “The brambles are tied with rags, and there is a deposit of pins as offerings.” The ritual prescribed at this and similar places of pilgrimage is the performance of a circuit from point to point, right-hand-wise, or in the direction of the sun, the recital of a certain number of paternosters and aves, just as at the stations of the Cross in a Roman Catholic church, and finally the deposit of the offering of a rag or pins. A well at Finmagh, in Roscommon, in which a Druid was said to be buried, was regarded as a deity. Here, however, the offerings, thrust through a hole or cleft in the roof, were of gold and silver.178.2 This is a rare case. Quite recently Professor Haddon and Dr. Browne found, in the Aran Islands, Galway, rags attached to sprays of the bramble or ivy at most of the holy wells. Buttons, fish-hooks, iron nails, shells, pieces of crockery and other things are deposited in the holy well at Tempulan-Cheathruir-aluinn, or the Church of the Four Comely Ones.178.3 Turish Lyn, a pool in the stream a little below Kilgort Bridge, in County Derry, is still resorted to for the cure of various diseases. Among the offerings left on a bush beside the stream are enumerated a piece of cloth, a lock of hair and three stones picked up from the pool.179.1 A number of other instances are cited by Mr. Gomme from various authorities.179.2 What seems an analogous custom is declared by Sir Ralph Payne-Gallwey to be practised at the Large Skellig, off the coast of Kerry. This island contains the ruin of an ancient monastery, and is accounted a holy place. When workmen from the mainland have been employed on the buildings on the Skellig and are bidding farewell to the island, “they invariably cast some well-worn article of clothing, oftener than not a pair of shoes, at a solitary rock, known as the Blue Man, which stands abruptly out of the ocean.”179.3
In the Isle of Man there is a well called Chibber Unjin, or Ash-tree Well, which I mention for the sake of calling attention to an interesting detail of the rite. A patient visiting the well had to take a mouthful of water, retaining it in his mouth until he had made the circuit of the well, and then empty it upon a rag of his own clothing, which he afterwards tied on the hawthorn growing there.179.4
I select a few examples out of a large number from Scotland. Saint Wallach’s Well and Bath in the parish of Glass, Aberdeenshire, are famous for their healing qualities. The former is now dry, save in rainy weather; but it was frequented by persons with sore eyes, “and every one who went to it left a pin in a hole which had been cut either by nature or by art in a stone beside the well.” The bath is a cavity in the rock, supplied by a spring which flows into it and overflows into the river Deveron. Children who did not thrive were brought and dipped in it, “a rag, an old shirt, or a bib from the child’s body being hung on a tree beside the bath, or thrown into it.”180.1 “There is a big rugged rock,” says the Rev. Walter Gregor, “on the top of Ben Newe in Strathdon, Aberdeenshire. On the north side of this rock, under a projection, there is a small circular-shaped hollow which always contains water. Every one that goes to the top of the hill must put some small object into it, and then take a draught of water off it. Unless this is done the traveller will not reach in life the foot of the hill. I climbed the hill in June of 1890, and saw in the well several pins, a small bone, a pill-box, a piece of a flower, and a few other objects.”180.2 Saint John’s Well, at Balmano, in the parish of Marykirk, Kincardineshire, was reputed to heal sore eyes and rickety children. The “oblations” left here were generally pins, needles and rags taken from the pilgrim’s clothes. In the island of St. Kilda is a consecrated well called Tobir-minbuadh, or Well of diverse Virtues. The votaries laid their offerings on an “altar” (probably a rock, or perhaps a rude stone monument) that stood near; and Macaulay in his History of St. Kilda sarcastically remarks: “The devotees were abundantly frugal.… Shells and pebbles, rags of linen or stuffs worn out, pins, needles or rusty nails were generally all the tribute that was paid; and sometimes, though rarely enough, copper coins of the smallest value.” Of Loch-siant Well in the island of Skye we read that the sick people who made a pilgrimage to it, after drinking “move thrice round the well, proceeding sun-ways,” and it was “a never-failing custom to leave some small offering on the stone which covers the well. There is a small coppice near it, of which none of the natives dare venture to cut the least branch, for fear of some signal judgment to follow upon it.”181.1 And Mr. David MacRitchie, recording similar offerings at Grew’s Well, Stormont, Perthshire, made on the first Sunday of May (Old Style), and speaking from the information of an old woman on the spot, says: “No good whatever was expected to result from the bathing if no offering was left.”181.2 It is rarely that an offering of value is recorded at these wells. A spring is, however, mentioned by Mr. Gregor, called Tobar-fuarmor, in Aberdeenshire, where no cure was effected unless gold was presented.181.3 The well and tree on the island of Maelrubha in Loch Maree are dedicated to Saint Maree, or Mourie. We need not concern ourselves whether this holy man ever existed in the flesh. It is clear that he succeeded to the divinity of an ancient heathen god, and wielded all, and perhaps more than all, his predecessor’s powers. Whether the mediæval church ever struggled against the deeply-rooted cult we do not know. Since the Reformation the Dingwall presbytery has in vain striven to destroy it, though at last it seems to be dying before the blasts of modern disbelief. Miss Godden, who visited the shrine in the summer of 1893, describes the tree—an oak—“as a slight white trunk—bare, branchless, leafless, with spreading foot, and jagged and broken top. The cracks and clefts in the stem are studded with coins, nails, screws, and rusty iron fragments. No sign of leaf or shoot remains to give the gaunt shaft any touch of common vegetation. It stands alone and inviolate—a Sacred Tree. In the damp ground at the tree’s foot is a small dark hole, the sides of which are roughly formed by stones overhung with moss and grass. A cover of unwrought stone lies beside it, and it is filled up with dead leaves. This is the healing well of power unspeakable in cases of lunacy.… The tree,” she adds, “is now a Wishing Tree, and the driving in of a bit of metal is the only necessary act.” The well, in fact, long so famous, is now disused, and the ritual of the shrine is in the last stage of decay. Formerly, when an afflicted person was brought thither for the cure of insanity, a portion of his clothing was attached to a nail, which was driven on his behalf into the tree. Sir Arthur Mitchell in the year 1860 found two bone buttons and two buckles nailed to the tree, and a faded ribbon fluttering from another nail. The tree, now dead as the superstition which hallowed it, was then living. Countless pennies and halfpennies had been driven edgewise into it, and the bark was closing over many of them, while it was believed to have covered many others.182.1
We turn to the continent of Europe. Close parallels to the practices at the shrine at Maelrubha are found in Germany and Belgium. Such is the ceremony prescribed for hernia in Mecklenburgh. A cross is made over the affected part with a nail on a Friday; and the nail is then driven, in unbroken silence, into a young beech or oak. The operation is repeated on the two Fridays following. A variant prescription directs the part to be touched with a coffin-nail, which is then to be driven over its head into the tree by the sufferer, barefoot and silent. As the nail is overgrown by the bark, the hernia will be healed.183.1 In this case the rite does not seem to be attached to any specially hallowed tree. I cited some similar instances in the last chapter, and others will be mentioned presently. We must first consider, however, some cases where the sacred character of the object, whether well or tree, is unquestionable.
In Belgium, halfway between Braine l’Alleud and the wood of Le Foriet, two hollow, and therefore doubtless very ancient, roads cross one another. Two aged pine-trees are planted at the top of the bank at one of the corners; and formerly there stood between them a cross, which has disappeared for some thirty years. It was a very ancient custom to bury in the pines, and even in the cross, pins or nails, in order to obtain the cure of persons attacked by fevers of various kinds. The pins and nails thus employed must have been previously in contact with the patient or his clothes. If any one took out one of these pins or nails from the pines or the cross, and carried it home, it was believed that the disease would certainly have been communicated to some member of his family. The custom is said to have fallen out of use. Yet M. Schepers, who visited the place in September 1891, and to whose article on the subject in Wallonia, a periodical published at Liège, I am indebted for these particulars, found not only rusty nails in the pines, but also pins quite recently planted. He was told that it was equally customary to roll round the pines, or the arms of the cross, some band of cloth or other stuff which had touched the sufferer. As soon as the nail or pin had been driven in, or the ribbon fastened, the operator used to run away as hard as he could. The spot was called À l’crwe Saint Zè, St. Etto’s Cross, or Aux deux Sapins, The two Pine-trees. Saint Etto, it seems, was an Irish missionary to these parts in the seventh century.184.1 Nor is this by any means the only instance in Belgium. Two old lime-trees on either side of a Calvary, near the convent of Soleilmont at Gilly, in Hainaut, are covered with nails; and a similar tree is found behind a chapel between Trazegnies and Chapelle-lez-Herlaimont in the same province. At Chastrés, near Walcourt, a chapel of Our Lady is shown with pins thrown in through the interstices of the gate by devotees on reciting their prayers. Numbers of pins have also been taken from the beds of the Meuse and the Sambre at ancient fords, though whether they were put into the water for any superstitious purpose is uncertain.184.2
At Croisic, in Upper Brittany, there is a well, called the Well of Saint Goustan, into which pins are thrown by those who wish to be married during the year. If the wish be granted, the pin will fall straight to the bottom. Similar practices are said to be performed in Lower Brittany, and in Poitou and Elsass.184.3 Girls used to resort to the little shrine of Saint Guirec, which stands on an isolated rock below high-water mark on the beach at Perros Guirec in Lower Brittany, to pray for husbands. The worshipper, her prayer concluded, stuck a pin into the wooden statue of the saint; and when I saw the shrine, in the year 1889, the figure was riddled from top to toe with pinholes. It was said that the prayer for a husband would infallibly be granted within a year. On the other side of Brittany, in the Morbihan, there is a chapel dedicated to Saint Uférier, credited with a similar reputation. The saint’s foot, if I may be guilty of a bull, is almost entirely composed of holes. It is, however, necessary here that the pin should be a new one and quite straight; not that the prayer will not be granted otherwise, but the husband will be crooked, humpbacked, and lame. In Upper Brittany, at St. Lawrence’s Chapel near Quintin and elsewhere, the condition is that the pin be planted at the first blow; the marriage will then take place within the year.185.1 To avoid either the disfigurement or the desecration of this practice the authorities of the churches of Saint Peter at Louvain and of Bon-Secours at Brussels thoughtfully provide pincushions to receive the proofs of the worshippers’ pious enthusiasm;185.2 but in Brittany the good priests are less fastidious.
Where the statue is of stone, it is of course impossible to plant the pins. They are then simply laid upon it, or thrust into cracks or hollows in the surface. At Loscouët young children are taken to the Virgin of Menès near the mill of Meu, in order that they may soon walk. The Virgin in question is nothing but the battered remains of a mullion from a window in the ruined château of Menès, formerly the residence of the lords of Loscouët before the signory passed to the abbé of Saint Méen. This mullion the simple peasants take for a statue. The children are held by the armpits, and made to walk thrice round the Virgin, and pins are then placed upon her arms. At Penvenan the chapel of Notre Dame du Port-Blanc is resorted to for the same object. The parents exercise themselves in throwing small coins from the nave into the choir at the statues of the Virgin, and of Saint Yves of the Poor, and afterwards at those of Dives and Lazarus. The children are then put to pick the coins up and drop them into the Virgin’s coffer. Lastly, they are marched round the pavement outside the chapel; and within a fortnight they will certainly walk.186.1
All over France the like practices exist, or have died out only within comparatively recent years. In the Protestant villages of Montbéliard, between the Vosges and the Jura, at the moment of celebration of a wedding a nail was planted in the gallery (or, in some places, in the floor) of the church, to “nail” or fasten the marriage. In various parts of the country there are stone or iron crosses which have doubtless replaced wooden ones. In the case of these new crosses, votaries must content themselves with depositing pins upon the arms or the pedestal, or in the joints.186.2 In the valley of Lunain there is a menhir called the Pierre Frite, in almost every hole or fissure of which may be found a pin or a nail, placed there by the youth of the neighbourhood in the belief that this action will bring a speedy marriage.187.1 The well of Moniés in the department of Tarn had, at the beginning of the present century, a great renown for the cure of various diseases. The rags which had been used in bathing with the sacred water the diseased members, were left stretched out on the neighbouring bushes.187.2 An instance where the honour and glory, not to say the substantial gains attendant on the superstition, were early annexed by the Church is that of St. Michel-la-Rivière in the diocese of Bordeaux. Both the honour and the gains were considerable in the seventeenth century, as appears from quarrels between the curé and the fabriqueur of the church decided by the Archbishop of Bordeaux, and other orders made by him. The sick man was required to pass through a hole called a veyrine at the end of the apse; and the patients left offerings not merely of linen, but also of money, wax, and other things.187.3 Nor was this case at all singular; for similar practices obtained wherever in the diocese was a church dedicated to St. Michael. In a North German example the object of veneration was an oak-tree; and the pilgrim, after creeping through the hole in the prescribed manner, completed the performance by burying a piece of money under the roots. As many as a hundred patients a day are said to have visited it.187.4 Here the Church had neglected her opportunities.
We have already dealt with the custom of creeping through trees. Our concern at present is with the offerings. Passing the Pyrenees, let us note that in the seventeenth century it was usual to stick needles or pins in a certain tree belonging to the church of Saint Christopher, situated on a high mountain near the city of Pampeluna.188.1 At Naples it used to be the custom to lead a sick horse round the church of Saint Elias, and afterwards to fasten one of his shoes on the church-door.188.2 One who suffers from intermittent fever will go and hang a small pebble on the inside of the door of Saint Giles’ church in the Abruzzian commune of Lanciano.188.3
A rite hitherto unexplained was practised from very early times at Rome. From the date of the erection of the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus it was the custom on the festival of the dedication, the Ides of September, for the highest person of the state to drive a nail into the right wall of the Cella Jovis. This was usually done by the consuls or prætor; but in case of the appointment of a dictator the latter performed the ceremony. After it was dropped as an annual performance, recourse was occasionally had to it for the staying of a pestilence, or as an atonement for crime. More ancient still was the corresponding Etruscan practice of sticking a nail every year into the temple of Nortia, the fate-goddess.188.4 Curious parallels to this custom are found in modern Europe. Near Angers was an oak which bore the singular name of Lapalud. It was regarded as of the same antiquity as the town, and was covered with nails to the height of ten feet or thereabouts. From time immemorial every journeyman carpenter, joiner, or mason who passed it, used to stick a nail in it. Near the cathedral at Vienna was the stock of an old tree, called the Stock im Eisen, said to be the last remnant of an ancient forest which once covered the neighbourhood. Every workman who passed through Vienna was expected to fasten a nail in it; and it was in fact invested with a complete coat of mail, consisting entirely of the heads of the nails it had thus received.189.1 These two examples existed almost down to the present day; elsewhere the rite appears to be still in full force. At Evessen stands a lime-tree on a barrow wherein a golden coffin is believed to have been buried. In the trunk (which is seven mètres in girth at the height of one mètre from the soil) are driven numbers of nails, some of them recently fixed. This is often done by travelling apprentices.189.2
At Athens, mothers bring their sick children to the little church of Santa Marina, under the Observatory Hill, and there undress them, leaving the old clothes behind. There is a dripping well near Kotzanes, in Macedonia, “said to issue from the Nereids’ breasts, and to cure all human ills. Those who would drink of it must enter the cave with a torch or lamp in one hand and pitcher in the other, which they must fill with the water, and, leaving some scrap of their clothing behind them, must turn round without being scared by the noises they may hear within, and quit the cave without ever looking back.”189.3 Among the inscriptions discovered at Epidauros, recording the miraculous cures attributed to Asklepios, is the record of what happened to Pandaros, a Thessalian who was afflicted with certain unsightly marks upon his forehead. The god appeared to him in a dream, pressing a bandage on the spots and directing him when he left the chamber to take off the bandage and deposit it as an offering in the temple. When the patient untied the bandage in the morning, the marks were transferred to it, leaving his forehead free; and he left the bandage in the temple, with this proof of his recovery,190.1 just as crutches are left in modern times at Roman Catholic shrines by persons who believe themselves healed by the presiding saint. It is clear from a reference by Aristophanes that the Greeks were in the habit on certain occasions of hanging articles of their clothing on, or even nailing them to, sacred trees as an offering to the god.190.2 Indeed, allusions to the practice are not uncommon in Greek poetry. Among the Romans, Pompey is compared by Lucan to a lofty oak, hung with old clothes and other votive offerings; and Vergil describes an olive-tree whereon the vests and votive tablets of mariners who had escaped shipwreck were suspended.190.3 To-day in Lesbos sick women vow to walk before Our Lady, or one of the saints, with bare feet, flowing hair, and their hands tied behind their backs with a handkerchief which they subsequently leave suspended on the image. In one of their tied hands they must contrive to carry a large lighted taper. Lofty sacred trees are still numerous, frequently growing in the vicinity of some chapel. The sick suspend on the branches their shirts or their girdles, in the hope, we are told, of leaving their ailments there. Feverish patients hang their clothes on a tree near the chapel of Saint John.191.1
In the Baltic Provinces of the Russian Empire stands a great sacred aspen near the village of Röiks, which, up to the year 1845 at all events, was hung with wreaths and many-coloured ribbons to win the favour of the tree-spirit for sick cattle. Near Pallifer stood in the seventeenth century two holy elms, which are reported to have been hung and bound with ribbons, this time for the healing of human ailments and to obtain good luck. An old lime-tree near the chapel of Keppo is also held sacred. Passers-by tear off ribbons and rags from their clothing and nail them upon it. The trees of the sacred woods on the island of Oesel are hung with rags by the Esthonian inhabitants of the island.191.2 In the district of Vynnytzia, government of Podolia in Ukrainia, there is a mineral spring much resorted to. The sick, after bathing, hang to the branches of the trees their shirts, handkerchiefs, and other articles, “as a mark,” says M. Volkov, who reports the case, “that their diseases are left there.”191.3
In the last chapter I mentioned a practice of the Masurs in Eastern Prussia of taking off the patient’s shirt after an attack of fever, carrying it to a cross-road and suspending it on a signpost. It is probable that the signpost represents a sacred tree, or perhaps a cross. In Hungary there are two fountains resorted to for the cure of ailing limbs; but it is essential to wait until the water-spirit is in a good humour and to leave behind as an offering articles of clothing and hair from the head. These are put upon the trees that stand around. Both in Hungary and in Transylvania ill-luck is like to befall one when his name-day happens on a Friday. To avoid the threatening evil, a rag is torn off the clothing, and hung, in Transylvania, on a tree before sunrise. The Magyar puts some of his blood and saliva on the rag and then burns it.192.1
Leaving the real meaning of these ceremonies to be considered hereafter, we go on for the present with the search for parallel superstitions in other parts of the world. In Hindustan, a festival called Melá is held at the beginning of the month of Mágha (about the middle of January) at the island of Ságar, at the mouth of the Hugli. A temple of Kapila, who is held to be an incarnation of Vishnu, stands on the island, and in front of it is (or was) a Bur-tree, beneath which were images of Ráma and Hanumán, while an image of Kapila, nearly of life-size, was within the temple. The pilgrims who crowd thither at the festival commonly write their names on the walls, with a short prayer to Kapila, or suspend a piece of earth or brick from a bough of the tree, offering at the same time a prayer and a promise, if the prayer be granted, to make a gift to some divinity.192.2 Shreds of clothing and feathers may be seen flying from the posts erected on the roofs of the Toda temple-huts in the Neilgherry Hills. The Korwas hang rags on the tree which constitutes the shrine of their village gods. The Patáris, when attacked by fever, tie round a pípal-tree a cotton string that has never touched water, and suspend rags from the branches. Elsewhere in India, as well as in Arabia and Persia, strips of cloth are suspended from shrubs and trees, which, for some reason or other, are venerated; and, in Persia at all events, not only are rags, amulets, and other votive offerings found upon the trees, but the trees are also covered with nails.193.1 At the source of the Jordan, as I am informed by Dr. Robert Munro, there is a tree hung with rags; and indeed such trees are not uncommon throughout Asiatic Turkey. Mohammed is said to have made a pilgrimage to a similar one. At Tyana, in Cappadocia, was a pillar to which persons used to go to nail their fevers.193.2 With this last may be compared an Athenian legend of Saint John, who is declared to have been a physician especially skilled in the treatment of fevers. Before his death he set up a column and bound under its foundations with silken threads all manner of diseases; fevers with a yellow thread, measles with a red one, and so forth. And he said: “When I die, let whosoever is sick come and tie to this column a silken thread with three knots of the colour that his sickness takes, and say, ‘Dear Saint John, I bind my sickness to the column, and do by thy favour loose it from me,’ and then he will be healed.”193.3 Neither of these is an ordinary case of transference, however it may look like it at first sight. It falls rather into the category of rags used to bathe a wounded limb and left in the holy well or on the bushes adjacent.
In Tibet there are numerous heaps of stones erected by wayfarers, to which every one who passes adds, and where he prays. Lamas who come by set up stakes, fastening thereon a bit of silk or other stuff, so that they resemble flags. At the tops of the passes in the mountains between Siam and Burmah are found heaps of stones. Passengers, besides stones, lay down on them flowers and leaves. Among the Mongols heaps of this kind are called obo; and they are said to be all consecrated by Buddhist lamas. Pousselgue describes one on a difficult pass between Urga and Kiachta. A rude image of Buddha was formed of two roughly chiselled blocks. By it stood a large granite urn for the burning of incense; and all around were numbers of stakes covered with offerings of clouts, pieces of paper, prayer-wheels, and even purses and objects of precious metal. Pousselgue’s guide bowed down before the obo and offered up a bit of his fur-robe.194.1 Nobody who has read Mr. Cooper’s amusing account of his marriage unawares to a girl in Eastern Tibet will forget how, when he got up to the top of a high hill, a little later in the day, with his bride, the lady contributed her quota of stones and prayers at the inevitable cairn, and then insisted, first, that in order to secure their connubial happiness the baggage must be unpacked and a couple of Khatah cloths taken out and fastened by her unwilling bridegroom to the flag-staves, and then that he must prostrate himself in prayer with her. “And there, on the summit of a Tibetan mountain, kneeling before a heap of stones, my hand wet with the tears of a daughter of the country, I muttered curses on the fate that had placed me in such a position.”194.2 Similarly an English traveller in Ladákh was compelled to gratify the spirits of a certain pass with an offering of the leg of a worn-out pair of nankin trousers.195.1 Nor is the custom confined to Buddhists. Among the Mrús of the Chittagong Hills every one on reaching the crest of a hill which he is crossing “plucks a fresh young shoot of grass, and places it on a pile of the withered offerings of former journeyers who have gone before.”195.2
The Karakasses, too, of Eastern Siberia make to the mountains and rivers which they pass offerings of tobacco, a branch of a tree, a strip of a pelisse or some other trifle. The Kamtchadales and Teleouts offer pine-branches, pieces of meat, fish or cheese, packets of hair or horsehair, little furs or ribbons of cloth. The offerings dedicated to a mountain are suspended from a tree on some hill or other conspicuous place. The Tunguz call these trees Nalaktits.195.3 Erman, the German traveller in Siberia, records having seen in the woods between Churopchinsk and Aruilákhinsk trees, at different points along the road, hung thick with horse-hair. It was an ancient custom of the nomadic Yakuts, he was told, to put tufts of their horses’ hair on these trees, and many of the tufts “had so weather-beaten an appearance, that there could be no doubt of their antiquity.” Every horseman who passed added to them, and the custom was called by a name signifying propitiation for the Spirit of the Woods.195.4 In the Alazeï Mountains, on the road from Kolymsk to Verkhoiansk, is the tomb of a famous Tchuktchi sorceress. All who pass deposit offerings: on the cross they hang strips of cloth and horsehair; at its foot they lay pieces of meat and fish. He who forgets this act of homage is always punished. The devils cause him to lose his way, his horse breaks a limb, or his sledge is shattered.196.1 The Kirghiz honour a solitary poplar, said to be the only tree standing between Fort Orsk on the Ural river and the Sea of Aral. It is covered with shreds torn from the clothing of the tribesmen who have worshipped at it. A certain wild plum-tree is also reverenced in the same way. The number of rags and pieces of sheep-skin attached to it is constantly increasing.196.2 Every traveller from Marco Polo downward speaks of the practice as rife in Central Asia. Many of the Tartars are Mohammedans; and the shrine of every Mohammedan saint is adorned with rams’ horns and with long bits of dirty rag, a pious gift no pilgrim would omit to tie on some adjacent stick or tree.196.3
Sacred trees covered with clouts hung by votaries, as well as piles of stones cast from the hands of wayfarers, are to be seen everywhere in Corea.196.4 We are told that “devils”—probably, as in the Tchuktchi superstition, a generic term for spirits—“are supposed to inhabit certain withered trees; and the natives are careful never to pass a devil-tree without throwing a stone at it, or tying a piece of cloth to one of its branches. If they omit to do this, evil, they believe, is sure to come to them and their families.”196.5 Mr. J. F. Campbell records having found in Japan “strips of cloth, bits of rope, slips of paper, writings, bamboo strings, flags, tags, and prayers hanging from every temple,” and small piles of stones at the foot of every image and memorial-stone, and on every altar by the wayside; and he draws attention to the similarity of the practices implied to those of his native country.197.1 Another traveller in Japan states that women who desire children go to a certain sacred stone on the holy hill of Nikko, and throw pebbles at it. If they succeed in hitting it their wish is granted. They seem very clever at the game, he says maliciously. Further, the same writer speaks of a seated statue of Buddha in the park of Uyeno at Tokio, on whose knees women flung stones with the same object. Describing a temple elsewhere, he records that the grotesque figures placed at the door were covered—or, as he more accurately puts it, constellated—with pellets of chewed paper shot through the railing that surrounded them by persons who had some wish to be fulfilled. A successful shot implied the probability of the attainment of the shooter’s desire.197.2 Japanese pilgrims also paste up their cards containing name and address on the doors or pillars of the shrines they visit.197.3
In another Asiatic island, Borneo, a tree hung with countless rags is often seen at the cross-ways, and every passenger tears off a piece of his clothing and fastens it on the tree. The natives who practise it can give no other account of the custom than that they fear for their health if they omit it. Dr. Ten Kate lately found twice in the island of Great Bastard under the branches of a large tree a heap of stones whereon fishermen were wont to place rags of red, green or many-coloured calico. In the same way an old tree-trunk, or a stake propped upright with stones, is found here and there in the Egyptian desert adorned with shreds and tatters of clothing; for every pilgrim as he passes adds a rag. Such a tree is a certain ancient tamarisk-tree, called “the Mother of Clouts,” between Dar-el-beida and Suez. In the Mohammedan districts of North Africa trees of this kind are known as Marabout-trees; and it is thought that by tying on one of them a screed from one’s clothing all evil and sickness passes over to the tree, which is generally a crippled, miserable specimen.198.1
But the custom is not confined in Africa any more than in Asia to Mohammedan districts. The Shilluk on the White Nile derive their origin from an ancestor whom they call Niekam; and from his sacred tree they suspend glass beads and pieces of stuff.198.2 On the western side of the continent, Mungo Park found a tree in the kingdom of Woolli decorated with innumerable rags or scraps of cloth tied upon its branches at different times by travellers. He conjectures that it was at first intended as an indication that water was to be found not far off; but of this there is no evidence. The custom was, as he says, so greatly sanctioned by time that nobody presumed to pass without hanging up something; and the intrepid explorer himself followed the example. A pool was, in fact, found not far off, as his Negroes predicted.199.1 A French traveller in the region of the Congo relates with astonishment concerning the n’doké—which he portrays as “fetishes important enough to occupy a special hut, and confided to the care of a sort of priests, who alone are reputed to have the means of making them speak”—that when it is desired to invoke the fetish, one or more pieces of native cloth, and the like, are offered to it or to the fetish-priest; and the worshipper is then admitted to plant a nail in the statue, the priest meanwhile, or the worshipper himself, formulating his prayer or his desires.199.2 Another French traveller in the watershed of the upper Niger reports the custom of sacrificing animals under sacred trees. The animal when slain is eaten; its head is placed under the tree, or suspended from one of the branches, or laid in a fork. Pottery of various kinds, handles of old agricultural implements, old clothes and calabashes, cow-tails, and so forth, lie around the fetish-tree; and under one such tree he saw a piece of hollow wood propped on forks and filled with grass and other plants.200.1
In the New World the practice does not seem so common. Darwin, however, notes one instance. On the sandstone plain from which the valley of the Rio Negro has been carved, not far from the town of Patagones, is a solitary tree reverenced by the aborigines as a god by the name of Walleechu. The traveller found it leafless, being winter-time; but from numberless threads were suspended on the branches cigars, bread, meat, pieces of cloth and other things. “Poor Indians,” he says, “not having anything better, only pull a thread out of their ponchos, and fasten it to the tree. Richer Indians are accustomed to pour spirits and maté into a certain hole, and likewise to smoke upwards, thinking thus to afford all possible gratification to Walleechu. To complete the scene, the tree was surrounded by the bleached bones of horses which had been slaughtered as sacrifices. All Indians of every age and sex make their offerings; they then think that their horses will not tire, and that they themselves shall be prosperous.”200.2
To sum up:—We find widely spread in Europe the practice of throwing pins into sacred wells, or sticking pins or nails into sacred images or trees, or into the wall of a temple, or floor of a church, and—sometimes accompanying this, more usually alone—a practice of tying rags or leaving portions of clothing upon a sacred tree or bush, or a tree or bush overhanging, or adjacent to, a sacred well, or of depositing them in or about the well. The object of this rite is generally the attainment of some wish, or the granting of some prayer, as for a husband, or for recovery from sickness. In the Roman instance it was a solemn religious act, to which (in historical times at least) no definite meaning seems to have been attached; and the last semblance of a religious character has vanished from the analogous performances at Angers and Vienna. In Asia we have the corresponding customs of writing the name on the walls of a temple, suspending some apparently trivial article upon the boughs of a sacred tree, flinging pellets of chewed paper or stones at sacred images, and attaching rags, writings, and other things to the temples, and to trees. Trees are adorned in the same way with rags and other useless things in Africa—a practice not unknown, though rare, in America. On the Congo a nail is driven into an idol in the Breton manner. It cannot be doubted that the purpose and origin of all these customs are identical, and that an explanation of one will explain all.
The most usual explanations are, first, that the articles left are offerings to the god or presiding spirit, and, secondly, that they contain the disease of which one desires to be rid, and transfer it to any one who touches or removes them. These two explanations appear to be mutually exclusive, though Professor Rhys suggests that a distinction is to be drawn between the pins and the rags. The pins, he thinks, may be offerings; and it is noteworthy that in some cases they are replaced by buttons or small coins. The rags, on the other hand, may be, in his view, the vehicles of the disease. If this opinion were correct, one would expect to find both ceremonies performed by the same patient at the same well: he would throw in the pin and also place the rag on the bush, or wherever its proper place might be. The performance of both ceremonies is, however, I think, exceptional. Where the pin or button is dropped into the well, the patient does not trouble about the rag, and vice versâ. Professor Rhys only cites one case to the contrary. There the visit to the well was prescribed as a remedy for warts. Each wart was to be pricked with a pin, and the pin bent and thrown into the well. The warts were then to be rubbed with tufts of wool collected on the way to the well, and the wool was to be put on the first whitethorn the patient could find. As the wind scattered the wool the warts would disappear. Upon this one or two observations may be made. Either the act of affixing the wool bears the meaning assigned in the last chapter to similar practices, or the rite only survives in a degraded form, and originally some definite sacred tree was its object. If the latter, then the rite is here duplicated. For if the pins were really offerings, to be distinguished in character from the deposits of wool, the prescription to touch the warts with them would be meaningless. But we must surely deem that whatever value attached to the rubbing of the warts with wool would equally attach to their pricking with the pins.