No More Learning

But Professor Max
Müller, in his Hibbert Lectures and elsewhere, has used the evidence
freely that is supplied in the Indo-Aryan literature, and all the pro-
found sense of the infinite in the Indo-Aryan myths, in discounting
the prevalence of fetishism among the primitive Aryans. We do not
at all agree with his conclusions. But he helps us to see that the
deities of the Vedas' and 'Brahmanas' (the hymns and books of
devotion of India) are sprung from the same order of personified ele-
mental phenomena as the fire-god or the sun-hero in other Aryan
mythologies. To take Indra, the chief of these deities: we trace in
the anomalous attributes of his divinity the signs of a savage deity
who was now the offspring of a cow, now a ram,—a ram that on
occasion could fly. Moreover, is there not a savage survival in the
idea that Indra was much addicted to soma-drinking; or that he
committed the "unpardonable sin" (according to the Vedic cult),
i. e. , the slaying of a Brahman? Indra even drank soma which was
not intended for him, and the dregs became Vrittra the serpent, his
enemy. In fighting this foe, Indra lost his energy, which fell to earth
and begot trees and shrubs; while Vrittra, being cut in half, accounted
for the moon and other phenomena in the universe. In pursuing this
branch of mythology, the superb library afforded by the Sacred
Books of the East' may be consulted, eked out by such other works
as Dr. Muir's Ancient Sanskrit Texts,' and Ludwig's translation of
the Rig-Veda. ' The same mixture of sublime and ideal and lofty
ideas with savage and primitive and wildly immoral conceptions of
the gods, will be found in the Indo-Aryan, that is found in the Greek
mythology.
There is no need to dwell here on the account that Homer gives
of the Greek gods, and their conduct and misconduct of their Divine
affairs, for Homer will be found treated elsewhere; but let us recall
that the children of Heaven and Earth, if we turn from Homer to
Hesiod, included Ocean, Hyperion, Theia, Rhea, Themis, Mnemosyne,
Tethys, and Cronus. And then we come to the Greek Indra, in Zeus;
who unlike Indra, however, is born in the second generation of the
gods, and even then only saved by a trick from the all-devouring
wrath of his father Cronus. Cronus alone affords a myth that is a
sort of test of the whole mythopoeic making of divinities out of crude
material, and preserving the cruder characteristics even in the highly


## p. 10529 (#401) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES 10529
developed forms of a complex, consciously arranged mythology. It is
thus we follow the early Greek myths, and watch them passing out
of pure folk-lore and primary mythology into secondary and literary
forms, until we come to their presentment by Homer and Hesiod.
It is the same process as we see, working on equally Aryan ideas,
in the Scandinavian mythology; until it arrives at its secondary
stage, in the marvelous world of human and divine creation in the
'Nibelungen Lied. ' In this evolution of barbaric divinities, and the
elaboration of the crude heroic ideal, Odin may be compared very
suggestively with the Greek Zeus, and Zeus with the Vedic Indra;
and Indra again with the Norse Odin: and much light may thus be
gained by a resort to comparative mythology in considering the chief
deities of the greater Indo-European systems of ex-Christian religion.
But indeed, whether we study the great myths or the humblest
things in folk-lore, the Indo-European or Aryan tongues will be found
to stammer out at last but the same message of the infinities that
received its highest expression in a Semitic tongue. The Celts and
Germans, the Sanskrit and Zendish peoples, the Latins and Greeks,
all belong to one family of speech; but even a ten-centuries main-
tained speech is less permanent, and a less certain synthetic measure
of man, than human nature and human imagination. And it is only
now, when folk-lore is beginning to see the common ground betwixt
the Aryan and the non-Aryan races and their histories, that it is
learning to make its lanterns light for us the "dark backward and
abysm of time," across which we look wistfully to the legended old
dreams first dreamt in the childish cradle sleep of our race. Like
faint memories of that cradle sleep, we listen now to the myths of
the creation of the earth, and of man's destiny; myths of the stars;
myths of the joy and sorrow of life and death; and of fire and of the
elements. Read apart, they are beautiful and divine fables; read in
the unity of man's common aspiration, they are the testament of the
imperfect first beginning, and the slow growth toward perfection, of
his expression of the mystery of nature, and of the eternal that is
behind nature.
A word remains to be said about the illustrative items that follow,
which are chosen mainly with a view to showing the variety of the
entertainment offered by the Aryan myths and folk-lore. As it is,
we have omitted those fairy and folk tales, which are, like 'Rumpel-
stilskin' and 'Jack the Giant-Killer,' enshrined in every reader's
memory; we have omitted also such passages as those in Homer,
or the 'Nibelungen Lied,' or in the Arthurian legendary romances,
which fall under other departments of the present work. Of those
which do appear, and which may not carry their full and sufficient
XVIII-659


## p. 10530 (#402) ##########################################

10530 MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
explanation on the face of them, we may explain that the 'Kinvad
Bridge' and the 'Brig o' Dread' show the identity and the world-
wide prevalence of the folk-lore relating to the passage of the souls
of the dead. The contemporary Russian account of the faith in
'Hangman's Rope' points to the old idea, common in witches' pre-
scriptions, of the virtue of a dead man's hand or other belongings,
especially if the man came by a dark and dreadful end; it is but
another form, in fact, of fetish-worship. The tale of the 'Bad Wife'
is a variant of one common to all tongues, relating to matrimonial
troubles and the punishment of a local Hades, the nearest con-
venient pit, or cave, or dark pool, Mare au diable, or "Devil's Punch-
bowl. " The Silesian tale of the 'Sleeping Army' is a variant of a
common tradition which is locally related of King Arthur and his
knights in South Wales. The two May Day verses, and those relat-
ing to Christmas decorations, are but another relic of the old tree-
worship, whose traces linger in many an unsuspected rustic rhyme
to-day. Certain old English charms and superstitions relating to the
sacred efficacy against evil of bread,—an idea common to all northern
Aryan folk-lore, may be found daintily preserved by Herrick, who
was the earliest collector of Devonshire folk-lore. An old knife
charm, and a variant of the custom of honoring the Christmas fire,—
a relic of old fire-worship,-which we have described above among
the Mordvins, are also taken from the 'Hesperides. ' The 'Legend of
Bomere Pool,' the tale of the 'Fairy Prince from Lappmark,' and the
Catalonian folk-tale, serve to illustrate further the universal Aryan
custom (and indeed the extra-Aryan custom too) of attaching mythi-
cal characters, good and evil, elvish and demonic, to marked locali-
ties, hills, lakes, and the like.
All these, let us remind the reader finally, are but crumbs from
the great feast, whose full equipment includes not only the humblest
couplet or game-rhyme that children sing, but the mysteries of medi-
æval romance, and the epic glooms and splendors of all the Aryan
mythologies.
Wilman & Sharpe
-
Emert
Thys


## p. 10531 (#403) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES 10531
THE KINVAD BRIDGE
From the Zend-Avesta >
THE
HEN the fiend named Vizareska carries off in bonds the souls
of the wicked Daêva-worshipers who live in sin. The soul
enters the way made by Time, and open both to the wicked
and the righteous.
At the head of the Kinvad Bridge, the holy bridge made by
Mazda, they ask for their spirits and souls, the reward for the
worldly goods which they gave away below.
Then comes the well-shapen, strong, and tall maiden with the
hounds at her sides; she who can distinguish, who is graceful,
who does what she desires, and is of high understanding.
She makes the soul of the righteous go up above the heavenly
hill; above the Kinvad Bridge she places it in the presence of
the heavenly gods themselves.
―――
NOTE. The Kinvad Bridge crosses Hades to Paradise. For
the souls of the good, it grows wider (nine javelins width); for the
wicked it narrows to a thread, and they fall from it into the depths
of Hades.
THE BRIDGE OF DREAD
From 'Border Minstrelsy
["This dirge used to be sung in the North of England, over a dead body,
previous to burial. The tune is weird and doleful, and joined to the mys-
terious import of the words, has a solemn effect. The word sleet, in the
chorus, seems to be corrupted from selt, or salt. "- Sir Walter Scott's note. ]
HIS ae nighte, this ae nighte,
THIS Every night and alle;
Fire and sleete, and candle lighte,
And Christe receive thye saule.
When thou from hence away are paste,
Every night and alle;
To Whinny-muir thou comest at laste:
And Christe receive thye saule.
If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
Every night and alle;
Sit thee down and put them on:
And Christe receive thye saule.


## p. 10532 (#404) ##########################################

10532 MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gavest nane,
Every night and alle;
The Whinnes shall pricke thee to the bare bane:
And Christe receive thye saule.
From Whinny-muir when thou mayst passe,
Every night and alle;
To Brigg o' Dread thou comest at laste:
And Christe receive thye saule. *
From Brigg o' Dread when thou mayst passe,
Every night and alle;
To purgatory fire thou comest at laste:
And Christe receive thye saule.
If ever thou gavest meat or drink,
Every night and alle;
The fire shall never make thee shrinke:
And Christe receive thye saule.
If meat and drinke thou gavest nane,
Every night and alle;
The fire will burn thee to the bare bane:
And Christe receive thye saule.
This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every night and alle;
Fire and sleete, and candle lighte,
And Christe receive thye saule.
THE LEGEND OF BOMERE POOL+
From Miss C. S. Burne's (Shropshire Folk-Lore'
M
ANY years ago a village stood in the hollow which is now
fillen up by the mere. But the inhabitants were a wicked
race, who mocked at God and his priest. They turned
back to the idolatrous practices of their fathers, and worshiped
Thor and Woden; they scorned to bend the knee, save in mock-
ery, to the White Christ who had died to save their souls. The
*There must originally have been two more verses, describing the fate of
the good and bad souls at the Bridge.
Compare Hawthorne's Philemon and Baucis, in the Wonder Book,'
which is essentially the same story.


## p. 10533 (#405) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES 10533
old priest earnestly warned them that God would punish such
wickedness as theirs by some sudden judgment, but they laughed
him to scorn. They fastened fish-bones to the skirt of his cas-
sock, and set the children to pelt him with mud and stones.
The holy man was not dismayed at this; nay, he renewed his
entreaties and warnings, so that some few turned from their evil
ways and worshiped with him in the little chapel, which stood
on the bank of a rivulet that flowed down from the mere on the
hillside.
The rains fell that December in immense quantities. The
mere was swollen beyond its usual limits, and all the hollows in
the hills were filled to overflowing. One day when the old priest
was on the hillside gathering fuel, he noticed that the barrier of
peat, earth, and stones which prevented the mere flowing into
the valley was apparently giving way before the mass of water
above. He hurried down to the village, and besought the men to
come up and cut a channel for the discharge of the superfluous
waters of the mere. They only greeted his proposal with shouts.
of derision, and told him to go and mind his prayers, and not
spoil their feast with his croaking and his kill-joy presence.
These heathen were then keeping their winter festival with
great revelry. It fell on Christmas Eve. The same night the
aged priest summoned his few faithful ones to attend at the mid-
night mass which ushered in the feast of our Savior's nativity.
The night was stormy, and the rain fell in torrents; yet this did
not prevent the little flock from coming to the chapel. The old
servant of God had already begun the holy sacrifice, when a roar
was heard in the upper part of the valley.
ringing the Sanctus bell which hung in the
of water dashed into the church, and rapidly rose till it put out
the altar-lights. In a few moments more the whole building was
washed away; and the mere, which had burst its mountain bar-
rier, occupied the hollow in which the village had stood. Men
say that if you sail over the mere on Christmas Eve just after
midnight, you may hear the Sanctus bell tolling.
The server was just
bell-cot, when a flood


## p. 10534 (#406) ##########################################

10534 MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
THE LAKE OF THE DEMONS
Catalonian variant of a folk-tale common to every mountain region; related
by Gervase of Tilbury
IN
IN CATALONIA there is a lofty mountain named Cavagum, at the
foot of which runs a river with golden sands, in the vicinity.
of which there are likewise mines of silver. This mountain
is steep, and almost inaccessible. On its top, which is always
covered with ice and snow, is a black and bottomless lake, into
which if a stone be thrown, a tempest suddenly rises; and near
this lake, though invisible to men, is the porch of the Palace of
Demons. In a town adjacent to this mountain, named Junchera,
lived one Peter de Cabinam. Being one day teased with the
fretfulness of his young daughter, he in his impatience suddenly
wished that the Devil might take her; when she was immediately
borne away by the spirits. About seven years afterwards, an
inhabitant of the same city, passing by the mountain, met a man
who complained bitterly of the burden he was constantly forced
to bear. Upon inquiring the cause of his complaining, as he did
not seem to carry any load, the man related that he had been
unwarily devoted to the spirits by an execration, and that they
now employed him constantly as a vehicle of burden. As a proof
of his assertion, he added that the daughter of his fellow-citizen
was detained by the spirits, but that they were willing to restore
her if her father would come and demand her on the mountain.
Peter de Cabinam, on being informed of this, ascended the mount-
ain to the lake, and in the name of God demanded his daugh-
ter; when a tall, thin, withered figure, with wandering eyes, and
almost bereft of reason, was wafted to him in a blast of wind.
FAIRY GIFTS AND THEIR ILL-LUCK
From The Science of Fairy Tales,' by E. S. Hartland
A
PEASANT in Swedish Lappmark who had one day been un-
lucky at the chase, was returning disgusted, when he met
a prince who begged him to come and cure his wife. The
peasant protested in vain that he was not a doctor. The other
would take no denial, insisting that it was no matter, for if he
would only put his hands upon the lady she would be healed.
Accordingly the stranger led him to the very top of a mountain,


## p. 10535 (#407) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
10535
where was perched a castle he had never seen before. On enter-
ing it, he found the roof overlaid with silver, the carpets of
silk, and the furniture of the purest gold. The prince took him
into a room where lay the loveliest of princesses on a golden
bed, screaming with pain. As soon as she saw the peasant she
begged him to come and put his hands upon her. Almost stu-
pefied with astonishment, he hesitated to lay his coarse hands
upon so fair a lady. But at length he yielded; and in a moment
her pain ceased, and she was made whole. She stood up and
thanked him, begging him to tarry awhile and eat with them.
This, however, he declined to do; for he feared that if he tasted
the food which was offered him he must remain there. The
prince then took a leathern purse, filled it with small round
pieces of wood, and gave it to him with these words: "So long
as thou hast this purse, money will never fail thee. But if thou
shouldst ever see me again, beware of speaking to me; for if
thou speak thy luck will depart. " When the man got home he
found the purse filled with dollars; and by virtue of its magical
property he became the richest man in the parish. As soon as
he found the purse always full, whatever he took out of it, he
began to live in a spendthrift manner, and frequented the ale-
house. One evening as he sat there he beheld the strange prince
with a bottle in his hand, going round and gathering the drops.
which the guests shook from time to time out of their glasses.
The rich peasant was surprised that one who had given him so
much did not seem able to buy himself a single dram, but was re-
duced to this means of getting a drink. Thereupon he went up
to him and said: "Thou hast shown me more kindness than any
other man ever did, and I will willingly treat thee to a little. "
The words were scarce out of his mouth when he received such
a blow on his head that he fell stunned to the ground; and when
again he came to himself, the prince and his purse were both
gone. From that day forward he became poorer and poorer,
until he was reduced to absolute beggary.
NOTE. This story exemplifies the need of the trolls for human
help, the refusal of food, fairy gratitude, and the conditions involved
in the acceptance of supernatural gifts. It mentions one further
characteristic of fairy nature - the objection to be recognized and
addressed by men who are privileged to see them. -E. S. H.


## p. 10536 (#408) ##########################################

10536 MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
A SLEEPING ARMY
From Drzebnica in Silesia, near an ancient battle-field. Variant of a folk-tale
common to the Celtic and Norse races
A
PEASANT-GIRL Was once wandering in the country, and found
the mouth of a cavern. She entered and found within a
host of sleeping warriors, all armed as if waiting for the
call to battle. One of the spirit warriors, who seemed their
leader, was not asleep; and addressing the fearful girl, told her
not to mind the soldiers, but only to take care not to touch the
bell hanging over the entrance. But the girl was seized with an
irresistible desire to ring the bell. Its boom sounded through
the cavern as a tocsin to war. The sleeping host began to awake
and to seize their arms. But thereupon the leader drove the girl
out, and closed the cavern mouth. No one has since seen the
opening of the cave, where, it is believed, the army still sleeps
undisturbed, waiting the destined day of waking.
THE BLACK LAMB
From Ancient Legends of Ireland. ' Irish variant of a common Aryan
superstition
IT
T Is a custom amongst the people, when throwing away water
at night, to cry out in a loud voice, "Take care of the water;"
or literally, "Away with yourself from the water:" for they
say that the spirits of the dead last buried are then wandering
about, and it would be dangerous if the water fell on them.
One dark night a woman suddenly threw out a pail of boiling
water without thinking of the warning words. Instantly a cry
was heard, as of a person in pain, but no one was seen. How-
ever, the next night a black lamb entered the house, having the
back all fresh scalded, and it lay down moaning by the hearth
and died. Then they all knew that this was the spirit that had
been scalded by the woman, and they carried the dead lamb out
reverently, and buried it deep in the earth. Yet every night at
the same hour it walked again into the house, and lay down,
moaned, and died: and after this had happened many times, the
priest was sent for, and finally, by the strength of his exorcism,
the spirit of the dead was laid to rest; the black lamb appeared
no more. Neither was the body of the dead lamb found in the
grave when they searched for it, though it had been laid by their
own hands deep in the earth, and covered with clay.


## p. 10537 (#409) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES 10537
DEATH-BED SUPERSTITIONS
From the Folk-Lore Record. Ditchling, Sussex, August 1820
WHI
HILST the woman was dying, I was standing at the foot of
the bed, when a woman desired me to remove, saying,
"You should never stand at the foot of a bed when a per-
son is dying. " The reason, I ascertained, was because it would
stop the spirit in its departure to the unknown world.
Immediately after the woman was dead, I was requested by
the persons in attendance to go with them into the garden to
awake the bees, saying it was a thing which ought always to be
done when a person died after sunset.
THE WITCHED CHURN
From the Folk-Lore Record. Contains a common superstition as to the fatal
sympathetic sensibility of those possessed with powers of witchcraft.
Halstead in Essex, August 1732.
THE
HERE was one Master Collett, a smith by trade, of Havening-
ham in the county of Suffolk, who, as 'twas customary with
him, assisting the maide to churn, and not being able-as
the phrase is to make the butter come, threw a hot iron into
the churn, under the notion of witchcraft in the case; upon
which a poore laborer then employed in the farm-yard cried out
in a terrible manner, "They have killed me! they have killed me! »
still keeping his hand upon his back, intimating where the pain
was, and died upon the spot. Mr. Collett, with the rest of the
servants then present, took off the poor man's clothes, and found
to their great surprise the mark of the iron which was heated
and thrown into the churn, deeply impressed upon his back.
This account I had from Mr. Collett's own mouth. Signed, S.
Manning.
THE BAD WIFE AND THE DEMON
From Folk-Lore Record. Russian variant of an ancient Eastern story
A
BAD wife lived on the worst of terms with her husband, and
never paid any attention to what he said. If her husband
told her to get up early, she would lie in bed three days
at a stretch; if he wanted her to go to sleep, she couldn't think


## p. 10538 (#410) ##########################################

10538 MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
of sleeping. When her husband asked her to make pancakes,
she would say, "You thief, you don't deserve a pancake! " If he
said, "Don't make any pancakes, wife, if I don't deserve them,”
she would cook a two-gallon pot full, and say, "Eat away, you
thief, till they're all gone! "
One day, after having had his trouble and bother with her, he
went into the forest to look for berries and distract his grief; and
he came to where there was a currant-bush, and in the middle
of that bush he saw a bottomless pit. He looked at it for some
time and considered, "Why should I live in torment with a bad
wife? Can't I put her into that pit? Can't I teach her a good
lesson ? »
So when he came home he said:
"Wife, don't go into the woods for berries. "
«< Yes, you bugbear, I shall go! "
"I've found a currant-bush: don't pick it. "
"Yes, I will; I shall go and pick it clean: but I won't give
you a single currant! »
The husband went out, his wife with him. He came to the
currant-bush, and his wife jumped into the middle of it, and
went flop into the bottomless pit.
The husband returned home joyfully, and remained there
three days; on the fourth day he went to see how things were
going on. Taking a long cord, he let it down into the pit, and
out from thence he pulled a little demon. Frightened out of his
wits, he was going to throw the imp back again into the pit, but
it shrieked aloud and earnestly entreated him, saying:-
"Don't send me back again, O peasant! Let me go out into
the world! A bad wife has come and absolutely devoured us
all, pinching us and biting us-we're utterly worn out with it.
I'll do you a good turn if you will. "
So the peasant let him go free-at large in Holy Russia.


## p. 10539 (#411) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES 10539
HANGMAN'S ROPE
Russian variant of the superstition. Reported March 27th, 1880
THE
HE hangman is permitted to trade upon the superstition still
current in Russian society, respecting the luck conferred
upon gamesters by the possession of a morsel of the rope
with which a human being has been strangled, either by the hand
of justice or by his own. Immediately after young M'Cadetzky
had been hanged, only the other day, Froloff was surrounded by
members of the Russian jeunesse dorée, eager to purchase scraps
of the fatal noose; and he disposed of several dozen such talis-
mans at from three to five roubles apiece, observing with cynical
complacency that "he hoped the Nihilists would yet bring him in
plenty of money. "
MAY-DAY SONG
From J. G. Frazer's Golden Bough. ' Abingdon in Berkshire. Variant of
folk rhymes that survive from the old Aryan tree-worship, associated
with May Day.
WE'VE been rambling all the night,
And some time of this day;
And now returning back again,
We bring a garland gay.
WE
A garland gay we bring you here,
And at your door we stand;
It is a sprout, well budded out,
The work of our Lord's hand.
OLD ENGLISH CHARMS AND FOLK CUSTOMS
From Herrick's 'Hesperides. Devonshire: Seventeenth Century
BREAD CHARMS
I
B
RING the holy crust of bread,
Lay it underneath the head:
'Tis a certain charm to keep
Hags away, while children sleep.


## p. 10540 (#412) ##########################################

10540
MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
Κ
II
IF YE feare to be affrighted
When ye are by chance benighted,
In your pocket for a trust,
Carrie nothing but a crust;
For that holy piece of bread
Charmes the danger and the dread.
KNIFE CHARM
LET the superstitious wife
Neer the child's heart lay a knife;
Point be up, and haft be downe:
While she gossips in the towne,
This 'mongst other mystick charms
Keeps the sleeping child from harms.
YULE-LOG CEREMONY
INDLE the Christmas brand, and then
Till sunne-set, let it burne;
Which quencht, then lay it up agen,
Till Christmas next returne.
Part must be kept wherewith to teend
The Christmas log next yeare;
And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend
Can do no mischiefe there.
THE CHANGELING
From A Pleasant Treatise on Witchcraft. ' English variant of the almost
universal folk-tale
Α΄
CERTAIN woman having put out her child to nurse in the
country, found, when she came to take it home, that its
form was so much altered that she scarce knew it; never-
theless, not knowing what time might do, took it home for her
own. But when after some years it could neither speak nor go,
the poor woman was fain to carry it, with much trouble, in her
arms; and one day, a poor man coming to the door, "God bless
you, mistress," said he, "and your poor child: be pleased to be-
stow something on a poor man. "-"Ah! this child," replied she,


## p. 10541 (#413) ##########################################

MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
10541
"is the cause of all my sorrow," and related what had happened;
adding, moreover, that she thought it changed, and none of her
child. The old man, whom years had rendered more prudent in
such matters, told her, to find out the truth she should make a
clear fire, sweep the hearth very clean, and place the child fast
in his chair-that he might not fall-before it, and break a dozen
eggs, and place the four-and-twenty half shells before it; then go
out, and listen at the door; for if the child spoke, it was certainly
a changeling; and then she should carry it out, and leave it on
the dunghill to cry, and not to pity it, till she heard its voice no
The woman, having done all things according to these
words, heard the child say, "Seven years old was I before I
came to the nurse, and four years have I lived since, and never
saw so many milk-pans before. " So the woman took it up, and
left it upon the dunghill to cry and not to be pitied, till at last
she thought the voice went up into the air; and on going there
found her own child safe and sound.
more.
THE MAGIC SWORD (MIMUNG, OR BALMUNG)
Norse variant of the common Aryan sword-myths (Carlyle's version)
Β΄
Y THIS Sword Balmung also hangs a tale. Doubtless it was
one of those invaluable weapons sometimes fabricated by
the old Northern Smiths, compared with which our modern
Foxes and Ferraras and Toledos are mere leaden tools. Von der
Hagen seems to think it simply the Sword Mimung under another
name; in which case Siegfried's old master, Mimer, had been
the maker of it, and called it after himself, as if it had been his
son. In Scandinavian chronicles, veridical or not, we have the
following account of that transaction. Mimer was challenged by
another Craftsman, named Amilias, who boasted that he had made
a suit of armor which no stroke could dint, to equal that feat or
own himself the second Smith then extant. This last the stout
Mimer would in no case do, but proceeded to forge the Sword
Mimung; with which, when it was finished, he, "in presence of
the King," cut asunder "a thread of wool floating on water. "
This would have seemed a fair fire-edge to most smiths; not so
to Mimer: he sawed the blade in places, welded it in "a red-hot
fire for three days," tempered it "with milk and oatmeal,"
and by much other cunning brought out a sword that severed


## p. 10542 (#414) ##########################################

10542
MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE ARYAN PEOPLES
«
a ball of wool floating on water. " But neither would this suf-
fice him; he returned to his smithy, and by means known only
to himself produced, in the course of seven weeks, a third and
final edition of Mimung, which split asunder a whole floating
pack of wool. The comparative trial now took place forthwith.
Amilias, cased in his impenetrable coat of mail, sat down on a
bench, in presence of assembled thousands, and bade Mimer
strike him. Mimer fetched of course his best blow, on which
Amilias observed that there was a strange feeling of cold iron in
his inwards. "Shake thyself," said Mimer: the luckless wight
did so, and fell in two halves, being cleft sheer through, never
more to swing hammer in this world.


## p. 10543 (#415) ##########################################

10543
LADY NAIRNE (CAROLINA OLIPHANT)
(1766-1845)
BY THOMAS DAVIDSON
AROLINA OLIPHANT, better known as Lady Nairne, or the Bar-
oness Nairne, the sweetest and tenderest of all the Scottish
singers, was born at the house of Gask in Perthshire, on
August 16th, 1766. Her family, whose original name was Olifard, had
been distinguished for courage and loyalty from the middle of the
twelfth century. In the civil wars of 1715 and 1745 they took part
with the "Pretenders," and suffered grievously in consequence. Caro-
lina was named after "Prince Charlie. " From her earliest childhood
she was remarkable for beauty, sweetness of disposition, and men-
tal ability. She was especially fond of poetry and music, at which
several of her ancestors had tried their hands. She knew all the
old ballads and songs, and delighted to play and sing them. As she
grew up, she became a universal favorite with high and low, and
was celebrated in song as the "Flower o' Strathearn. " She was a
gay, robust, rollicking girl, extremely fond of dancing, riding, and all
healthy amusements. In 1797, when she was in Durham, she received
an offer of marriage from a royal duke, but declined it, being al-
ready engaged to her cousin Major (afterwards Lord) Nairne. Mean-
while, having observed that many of the beautiful, simple tunes sung
by the Scottish peasantry were accompanied with words of doubtful
tendency, and being also encouraged by the example of Burns, she
began to consider whether she might not do good by writing better
words. Her first effort was The Plowman,' whose immediate suc-
cess encouraged her to further effort. Soon after this she wrote most
of her humorous and Jacobite songs. In 1798, on the death of the
only child of a friend of her girlhood, she wrote the song by which
she is best known, The Land o' the Leal'; which, for tenderness and
genuine pathos, has no equal in any language. It is sung to almost
the same tune as Burns's 'Scots Wha Hae. ' About this time, the
deeply loyal and religious tendency in her nature manifested itself in.
a genuine "conversion," which made her a Christian, in the deepest
and best sense, for the rest of her life. She used to say, "Religion
is a walking and not a talking concern;" and so she did her good
deeds by stealth.


## p. 10544 (#416) ##########################################

10544
LADY NAIRNE
In 1806 she married her cousin, Major Nairne, then Inspector-
General of Barracks for Scotland; and settled in Edinburgh, where
her only child, named William Murray, was born in 1808. Though she
might have mixed with the best fashionable and literary society of
the Scottish capital, she preferred to live a retired life and to keep
the secret of her authorship to herself. She did not even commu-
nicate it to her adored husband, lest in his pride of her "he micht
blab. »
She did not even cultivate the friendship of Sir Walter Scott,
although her sister married a relative of his. She did, however, take
the lead in a committee of ladies who undertook to help Mr. Purdie,
an Edinburgh music-publisher, to bring out the Scottish Minstrel,' a
purified collection of Scotch songs and airs. In doing so, she assumed
the name of Mrs. Bogan of Bogan; and by this alone she was ever
known to Mr. Purdie, who was carefully cautioned not to divulge it.
And he didn't. The Minstrel' was completed in 1824, in six octavo
volumes. The same year Major Nairne was raised to the peerage,
which his family had lost through loyalty to the Stuarts; and so his
wife became Lady Nairne. He died in 1829; and then on account of
her son's health she removed first to Clifton, near Bristol, and then
to Ireland, where she made many friends, and took a deep interest in
the people. In 1834, after a brief visit to Scotland, she crossed over,
with her sister, son, and niece, to the Continent. After visiting Paris,
Florence, Rome, Naples, Geneva, Interlaken, and Baden, the party
wintered at Mannheim; and thence, in the spring of 1837, went to
Baden-Baden, where young Lord Nairne was seized with influenza,
which turned into consumption. He died on the 7th of December,
and was buried in Brussels. Lady Nairne, now seventy-two years of
age, never recovered from this blow; nevertheless, she refrained from
complaining, and devoted the rest of her life to doing good. After
visiting Paris, Wildbad, Stuttgart, and other places, she settled for a
time in Munich. She then traveled for four years in Germany, Aus-
tria, and France, never meaning to return to her own country. But
in 1843, yielding to the wishes of her nephew, James Blair Oliphant,
now proprietor of Gask, she was induced to return to the scenes of
her childhood; though she could not return to the "auld hoose,"
since that had been pulled down in 1819. Here she spent her time
communicating with old friends, arranging family papers, praying,
reading, and distributing her money among worthy causes,—always
with the proviso that her name was not to be mentioned. She
passed quietly away on the 26th of October, 1845, and was buried in
the private chapel at Gask,- a shrine thenceforth for all lovers of
poetry.
There are few lives on record in which one would not wish to see
something otherwise than it was; but Lady Nairne's is one of them.


## p. 10545 (#417) ##########################################

LADY NAIRNE
10545
Indeed it is difficult to conceive a life more simply, nobly lived. She
was adorned with every grace of womanhood: beauty, dignity, ten-
derness, loyalty, intelligence, art, religion. She was not only a model
daughter, sister, wife, and mother, and a charming conversationalist
and correspondent, but she was also an admirable artist and musi-
cian, and she wrote the finest lyrics in the Scottish language. Her
charity also was bounded only by her means. And yet, when she
went to her grave, there were probably not more than three or four
persons in the world who knew that she had ever written a line of
poetry, or expended a sovereign in charity. Dr. Chalmers, however,
who had been to a large extent her almoner, considered himself
relieved from his promise of secrecy by her death, and told of the
large sums he had received from her; while her sister and niece,
assuming a similar liberty, allowed the world to know that she had
written over seventy of the best songs that ever were composed,-
songs pathetic, humorous, playful, martial, religious. Thus her literary
fame was entirely posthumous; but it has grown steadily, and will
continue to grow. In the world of lyric poetry she stands, among
women, next to Sappho. There is something about her songs that
name, something simple, natural, living, inevitable. The
range of her work is not equal to that of Burns; but where she could
go, he could not follow her. She knew where the heart-strings lie,
and she knew how to draw from them their deepest music. In hand-
ling the Scottish language, she has no equal. She spoke from her
heart, in the heartiest of languages, and her words go to the heart
and remain there.
Hawar Davids
XVIII-660
THE LAND O' THE LEAL
'M WEARIN' awa', John,
I'M
Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John;
I'm wearin' awa'
To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, John,
There's neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair
In the land o' the leal.


## p. 10546 (#418) ##########################################

10546
LADY NAIRNE
Our bonnie bairn's there, John;
She was baith gude and fair, John,
And oh! we grudged her sair
To the land o' the leal.
But sorrow's sel' wears past, John,
And joy's a-comin' fast, John,—
The joy that's aye to last
In the land o' the leal.
Sae dear that joy was bought, John,
Sae free the battle fought, John,
That sinfu' man e'er brought
To the land o' the leal.
Oh! dry your glist'ning e'e, John:
My saul langs to be free, John,
And angels beckon me
To the land o' the leal.
Oh! haud ye leal and true, John:
Your day it's wearin' thro', John,
And I'll welcome you
To the land o' the leal.
Now fare ye weel, my ain John:
This warld's cares are vain, John;
We'll meet, and we'll be fain,
In the land o' the leal.
THE HUNDRED PIPERS
W™
A hundred pipers an' a', an' a',
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',
We'll up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw,
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.
Oh! it's owre the Border awa, awa,
It's owre the Border awa, awa,
We'll on and we'll march to Carlisle ha',
Wi' its yetts, its castell, an' a', an' a'.
Oh! our sodger lads looked braw, looked braw,
Wi' their tartans, kilts, an' a', an' a',
Wi' their bonnets, an' feathers, an' glittering gear,
An' pibrochs sounding sweet and clear.
Will they a' return to their ain dear glen?
Will they a' return, our Hieland men?


## p. 10547 (#419) ##########################################

LADY NAIRNE
Second-sighted Sandy looked fu' wae,
And mothers grat when they marched away,
Wi' a hundred pipers, etc.
Oh, wha is foremost o' a', o' a'?
Oh, wha does follow the blaw, the blaw?
Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', hurra!
Wi' his hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.
His bonnet an' feather he's wavin' high,
His prancin' steed maist seems to fly,
The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair,
While the pipers blaw in an unco flare.
Wi' a hundred pipers, etc.
The Esk was swollen, sae red and sae deep,
But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
Twa thousand swam owre to fell English ground,
An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound.
Dumfoundered, the English saw-they saw
Dumfoundered, they heard the blaw, the blaw;
Dumfoundered, they a' ran awa, awa,
From the hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',
We'll up and gie them a blaw, a blaw,
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.
W
CALLER HERRIN'
HA'LL buy my caller herrin'?
They're bonnie fish and halesome farin';
Wha'll buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth?
When ye were sleepin' on your pillows,
Dreamed ye aught o' our puir fellows,
Darkling as they faced the billows,
A' to fill the woven willows?
Buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'?
They're no brought here without brave darin';
-
Buy my caller herrin',
Hauled through wind and rain.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? etc.
10547


## p. 10548 (#420) ##########################################

10548
LADY NAIRNE
Wha'll buy my caller herrin' ?
Oh, ye may ca' them vulgar farin':
Wives and mithers maist despairin'
Ca' them lives o' men.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? etc.
When the creel o' herrin' passes,
Ladies, clad in silks and laces,
Gather in their braw pelisses,
Cast their heads and screw their faces.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? etc.
Caller herrin's no got lightlie:
Ye can trip the spring fu' tightlie;
Spite o' tauntin', flauntin', flingin',
Gow has set you a' a-singin'.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? etc.
Neebor wives, now tent my tellin':
When the bonny fish ye're sellin',
At ae word be in ye're dealin',—
Truth will stand when a' thing's failin'.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'?
They're bonny fish and halesome farin';
Wha'll buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth?
THE AULD HOUSE
OH
H, THE auld house, the auld house,-
What though the rooms were wee?
Oh! kind hearts were dwelling there,
And bairnies fu' o' glee;
The wild rose and the jessamine
Still hang upon the wa':
How mony cherished memories
Do they, sweet flowers, reca'!
Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird,
Sae canty, kind, and crouse,—
How mony did he welcome to
His ain wee dear auld house;
And the leddy too, sae genty,
There sheltered Scotland's heir,
And clipt a lock wi' her ain hand,
Frae his lang yellow hair.


## p. 10549 (#421) ##########################################

LADY NAIRNE
10549
The mavis still doth sweetly sing,
The bluebells sweetly blaw,
The bonny Earn's clear winding still,
But the auld house is awa'.
The auld house, the auld house,-
Deserted though ye be,
There ne'er can be a new house
Will seem sae fair to me.
Still flourishing the auld pear-tree
The bairnies liked to see;
And oh, how aften did they speir
When ripe they a' wad be!
The voices sweet, the wee bit feet
Aye rinnin' here and there,
The merry shout-oh! whiles we greet
To think we'll hear nae mair.
For they are a' wide scattered now:
Some to the Indies gane,
And ane, alas! to her lang hame:
Not here we'll meet again.
The kirkyaird, the kirkyaird!
Wi' flowers o' every hue,
Sheltered by the holly's shade
An' the dark sombre yew.
The setting sun, the setting sun!
How glorious it gaed doon;
The cloudy splendor raised our hearts
To cloudless skies aboon.
The auld dial, the auld dial!
It tauld how time did pass:
The wintry winds hae dung it doon,
Now hid 'mang weeds and grass.
THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN
THE
HE Laird o' Cockpen he's proud and he's great,
His mind is ta'en up with things o' the State;
He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,
But favor wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.
Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table-head he thought she'd look well:


## p. 10550 (#422) ##########################################

10550
LADY NAIRNE
M'Clish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee,
A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.
His wig was weel pouthered, and as gude as new;
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cocked-hat:
And wha could refuse the Laird wi' a' that?
He took the gray mare, and rade cannily,
And rapped at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee:
"Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,
She's wanted to speak wi' the Laird o' Cockpen. ”
Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine:
"And what brings the Laird at sic a like time? "
She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,
Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.
And when she came ben he bowed fu' low,
And what was his errand he soon let her know:
Amazed was the Laird when the lady said "Na";
And wi' a laigh curtsey she turned awa'.
Dumfoundered he was, but nae sigh did he gie:
He mounted his mare, he rade cannily;
And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
"She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen. "
And now that the Laird his exit had made,
Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said:
"Oh! for ane I'll get better, it's waur I'll get ten,-
I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen. »
Next time that the Laird and the lady were seen,
They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;
Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen-
But as yet there's nae chickens appeared at Cockpen.
The last two verses were added by Miss Ferrier, author of 'Marriage.
They are not unworthy of being preserved with the original.


## p. 10551 (#423) ##########################################

LADY NAIRNE
10551
WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE?
HE news frae Moidart cam yestreen,
Will soon gar mony ferlie;
For ships o' war hae just come in,
And landit Royal Charlie.
THE
Come through the heather, around him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin:
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
Come through the heather, around him gather,
Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegither,
And crown your rightfu', lawfu' king!
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
The Hieland clans, wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groat's to Airlie,
Hae to a man declared to stand
Or fa' wi' Royal Charlie.
Come through the heather, etc.
The Lowlands a', baith great an' sma,
Wi' mony a lord and laird, hae
Declared for Scotia's king an' law,
An' speir ye, Wha but Charlie?
Come through the heather, etc.
There's ne'er a lass in a' the lan'
But vows baith late an' early,
She'll ne'er to man gie heart nor han'
Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.
Come through the heather, etc.
Then here's a health to Charlie's cause,
And be't complete an' early;
His very name our heart's blood warms:
To arms for Royal Charlie!
Come through the heather, around him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin;
For wha'll be king but Charlie ?
Come through the heather, around him gather,
Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegither,
And crown your rightfu', lawfu' king!
For wha'll be king but Charlie ?


## p. 10552 (#424) ##########################################

10552
LADY NAIRNE
WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?
ONNIE Charlie's now awa',
B Safely owre the friendly main;
Mony a heart will break in twa,
Should he ne'er come back again.
Will ye no come back again?
Will ye no come back again?
Better lo'ed ye canna be,-
Will ye no come back again?
Ye trusted in your Hieland men,
They trusted you, dear Charlie;
They kent you hiding in the glen,
Your cleadin' was but barely.
Will ye no come back again?
Will ye no come back again ?
Better lo'ed ye canna be,-
Will ye no come back again?
English bribes were a' in vain;
An' e'en though puirer we may be,
Siller canna buy the heart
That beats aye for thine and thee.
Will ye no come back again?
Will ye no come back again?
Better lo'ed ye canna be,—
Will ye no come back again ?
We watched thee in the gloaming hour,
We watched thee in the morning gray;
Though thirty thousand pounds they'd gie,
Oh there is nane that wad betray.
Will ye no come back again?
Will ye no come back again?
Better lo'ed ye canna be,-
Will ye no come back again?
Sweet's the laverock's note and lang,
Lilting wildly up the glen;
But aye to me he sings ae sang,
Will ye no come back again?
Will ye no come back again?