The Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India, Vol. 2 (of 2)

Asma ’bint ’Umais relates that she said, “O Prophet! the family of Ja’ afar are affected by the baneful influence of the Evil Eye. May I use spells for them or not?” The Prophet said, “Yes; for if there were anything in the world which would overcome fate, it would be the Evil Eye.”—Miskât, xxi.–i. Part II.

The belief in the baneful influence of the Evil Eye prevails widely.[1] According to Pliny,[2] it was one of the special superstitions of the people of India, and at the present day it forms an important part of the popular belief. But the investigation of its principles is far from easy. It is very closely connected with a number of kindred ideas on the subject of diabolical influence, and few natives care to speak about it except in a furtive way. In fact, it is far too serious a matter to be discussed lightly. Walking about villages, you will constantly see special marks on houses, and symbols and devices of various kinds, which are certainly intended to counteract it; but hardly any one cares directly to explain the real motive, and if you ask the meaning of them, you will almost invariably be told that they are purely decorative, or that they have been made with some object which obviously conceals the real basis of the practice.

One, and perhaps the most common theory of the Evil Eye is that “when a child is born, an invisible spirit is born with it; and unless the mother keeps one breast tied up for forty days, while she feeds the child with the other (in which case the spirit dies of hunger), the child grows up with the endowment of the Evil Eye, and whenever any person so endowed looks at anything constantly, something will happen to it.”[3] So, in Ireland we are told that “the gift comes by Nature and is born with one, though it may not be called into exercise unless circumstances arise to excite the power; then it comes to act like a spirit of bitter and malicious envy that radiates a poisonous atmosphere, which chills and blights everything within its reach.”[4]

In Bombay the “blast of the Evil Eye is supposed to be a form of spirit possession. In Western India all witches and wizards are said to be, as a rule, evil-eyed. Of the rest, those persons only who are born under certain circumstances are believed to be evil-eyed. The circumstances are as follows:—Among the Hindus it is believed that when a woman is pregnant, she begins to conceive peculiar longings from the day of conception, or from the fifth month. They consist in eating various fruits and sweetmeats, in walking under deep shades, or in gardens where brooks gurgle, or in putting on rich clothes or ornaments, and in many other like things. If in the case of any woman these desires are not gratified, the child whom she gives birth to becomes weak and voracious, and is said to have an Evil Eye. If such a person sees a man or woman eat anything which he feels a longing for, the eater either vomits what he or she has eaten, or falls sick. By some it is believed that if a person come from without at the time of dinner, and enters the house without washing his feet, the man who is eating becomes sick or vomits the food he has eaten, or does not feel longing for food for some time, until the blast of the Evil Eye is warded off.” Mr. Campbell explains this on the principle that “as he comes from places where three or four roads meet, and which are spirit haunts, an evil spirit accompanies him without entering his body, from the place of its residence by which he has passed. If he washes his feet, the spirit goes back; but if he enters the house with spirit-laden feet, the spirit enters the house with him, and affects any one of the persons eating.”[5]

The real fact seems to be that in most cases the Evil Eye is the result of covetousness.[6] Thus, a man blind of an eye, no matter how well-disposed he may be, is almost certain to envy a person blessed with a peculiarly good pair of eyes. But if the blind man’s attention be distracted by something conspicuous in the appearance of the other, such as lampblack on his eyelids, a mole, or a scar, the feeling of dissatisfaction, which is fatal to the complete effect of the envious glance, is certain to arise. This theory that the glance may be neutralized or avoided by some blot or imperfection is the basis of many of the popular remedies or prophylactics invented with the object of averting its influence.

Hence comes the device of making an intentional blot in anything one values, so that the glance of the Evil Eye may be deprived of its complete satisfaction. Thus, most people put lampblack on the eyes of their children as a protection against fascination, because black is a colour hateful to evil spirits; it has the additional advantage of protecting the eye from the fierce heat of the Indian summer. Women when delivery approaches often mark themselves with black to avert the demon who causes protracted labour. It is also believed that a person whose eyelids are encircled with lampblack is incapable of casting the Evil Eye himself; and it is considered nice in a woman to ornament herself in this way, since because she herself, except at some crisis of her life, such as marriage or parturition, is not liable to fascination, it shows her indisposition to covet the beauty of others, with the inference that she has no cause to do so.

On the same principle, when a parent has lost a child by any disease which, as is usually the case, can be attributed to fascination or other demoniacal influence, it is a common practice to call the next baby by some opprobrious name, with the intention of so depreciating it that it may be regarded as worthless, and so protected from the Evil Eye of the envious. Thus a male child is called Kuriya or “Dunghill;” Kadheran or Ghasîta, “He that has been dragged along the ground;” Dukhi or Dukhita, “The afflicted one;” Phatingua, “Grasshopper;” Jhingura, “Cricket;” Bhîkhra or Bhîkhu, “Beggar;” Gharîb, “Poor,” and so on. So, a girl is called Andhrî, “Blind;” Tînkauriyâ or Chhahkauriyâ, “She that was sold for three or six cowry shells;” Dhuriyâ, “Dusty;” Machhiyâ, “Fly,” and so on.[7]

All this is connected with what the Scotch call “fore-speaking,” when praise beyond measure, praise accompanied with a sort of amazement or envy, is considered likely to be followed by disease or accident.[8] Thus Professor Rhys writes of the Isle of Man:[9] “You will never get a Manxman to say that he is very well. He usually admits that he is ‘middling;’ and if by any chance he risks a stronger adjective, he hastens to qualify it by saying ‘now’ or ‘just now,’ with an emphasis indicative of his anxiety not to say too much. His habits of speech point back to the time when the Manx mind was dominated by the fear of awaking malignant influences in the spirit world around him.” So, in Ireland, to avoid being suspected of having the Evil Eye, it is necessary when looking at a child to say, “God bless it!” and when passing a farmyard where the cows are collected for milking to say, “The blessing of God be on you and all your labour!”[10]

The same customs prevail in India. Thus, if a native gentleman brings his child to visit a European, he dislikes to hear it praised, unless the praise be accompanied with some pious ejaculation. And it is safer to speak in a complimentary way of some conspicuous ornament or piece of dress, which is always put on as a protective.

In connection with the question of naming, a reference may be made to some taboos which are probably based on similar principles. A name is part of a person in the belief of savages, and a man can be injured through his name as well as through the parings of his nails or hair, which are carefully looked after. Thus with all Hindus two names are given to children, one secret and used only for ceremonial purposes, and the other for ordinary use. The witch if she learns the real name can work her evil charms through it.[11] Hence arises the use of many contractions and perversions of the real name and many of the nicknames which are generally given to children, as well as the ordinary terms of endearment which are constantly employed. We have this name taboo coming out in a cycle of folk-tales, such as “Rumpelstilzchen,” “Tom Titty Tot,” and “Whuppity Stoorie.” Here the imp or gnome has a secret name of his own, which he thinks it impossible for any one to find out, and he himself uses it only when he thinks he is sure to be alone.

This seems to be the most rational explanation of the curious taboo according to which a Hindu woman will not name her husband, or if she wants to refer to him, does so in some indirect way as the father of her child and so on. To this, however, there is one notable exception. Thus, writing of Bombay, Mr. Campbell says:[12] “At marriages, coming of age, first pregnancy and festive days, such as the Nâgpanchamî and Mangalâ Gaurî in August, it is usual for the woman to recite some couplet or verse in which the husband’s name occurs. At marriages this naming is, in practice, little more than a game. An old man or an old lady gets close to the door and refuses to allow the young women to go until they have told their husbands’ name. At the pregnancy ceremony the same custom is observed.” Mr. Campbell takes this to be “part of a ceremony whose object is to drive to a distance any spirits whose influence might blight the tender life of the unborn child. This seems natural when it is remembered that the names of men are either the names of gods, of precious stones, or of spices, all of which have a power to scare spirits; and as repeating the thousand names of Mahâdeva is a service in which he greatly delights, apparently because it keeps spirits at a distance, so this repeating of the husband’s and wife’s name seems to have the same object.” The name, in other words, is kept secret on account of its sanctity, and the custom would be based on the same rules of taboo which have been designed among most savages for the protection of kings and other persons of dignity from the influence of evil spirits.

Another mode of protecting boys from demoniacal influence is based on the same idea of the blot of imperfection. Boys of rich parents are often dressed in mean or filthy clothes so that they may be considered unworthy of the malicious glance of some envious neighbour or enemy.

Still another device, that of dressing up the boy during infancy as a girl, in other words a pretended change of sex, may perhaps lead us on the track of a possible explanation of some very curious and obscure practices in Europe. We know that legends of actual change of sex are not unknown in Indian folk-lore. Thus, we have the very primitive legend of Idâ or Ilâ, who was the daughter of the Manu Vaivaswata, who prayed to Mitra and Varuna for a boy and was given a girl. But the prayers of her father to the deities resulted in her being changed into a man, Sudyumna. Siva changed him back again into a woman, and she, as Ilâ, became the wife of Budha. In more modern times we have the very similar story of the daughter of the Bhadauriya Râja. He had a daughter, who was seized by force for the seraglio of the Emperor at Delhi, but she fled to the temple of Devî at Batesar and by the aid of the goddess was changed into a boy. By another version of the tale he arranged with another Râja that their children should be contracted, if one chanced to be a boy and the other a girl. Both had daughters, but the Râja concealed the circumstance and allowed the marriage to go on as if his child was a son. When the fraud was detected the girl tried to commit suicide in the Jumnâ, but came out a boy, and everyone was satisfied.[13]

One explanation of the custom of pretended change of sex as shown in the case of the Amazons, has been thus explained by Mr. Abercromby:[14] “The great desire of women, more especially during a period of warlike barbarism, is to bear male children. Turning our attention to the result of flattening a girl’s breasts and letting her wear male attire, it is obvious that a sex distinction has been obliterated, and she has become externally assimilated to a male youth. Moreover, the object has evidently been intentional. It would be no outrage to the reasoning powers of the Sarmatians to suppose that they believed a woman’s chances of bearing male children were vastly enhanced by her wearing a man’s dress, and by being in some degree conformed to the male type by forcible compression of the breasts during maidenhood. They would argue thus: a woman wants to bear male children, therefore she ought to be made as much like a man as possible. A conviction of this kind is gained by a process identical with the immature reasoning that underlies what is called sympathetic magic.”

This may possibly be one explanation of the practice among Chamârs and other low castes in Northern India, when at marriages boys dress up as women and perform a rude and occasionally obscene dance. Among the Modh Brâhmans of Gujarât, at marriages, the bridegroom’s maternal uncle, whose special position is almost certainly a survival from times when descent through the mother was the only recognized form, dresses as a Jhanda or Pathân Faqîr, whose ghost is dangerous, in woman’s clothes from head to waist, and in men’s clothes below, rubs his face with oil, daubs it with red powder, goes with the bride and bridegroom to a place where two roads meet (which, as we have seen, is a haunt of spirits), and stays there till the pair offer the goddess food.[15]

Now, there are numerous customs which have been grouped in Europe under the name of the False Bride. Thus, among the Esthonians the false bride is enacted by the bride’s brother dressed in woman’s clothes; in Polonia by a bearded man called the Wilde Brant; in Poland, by an old woman veiled in white, and lame; again, among the Esthonians, by an old woman with a birch-bark crown; in Brittany, where the substitutes are first a little girl, then the mistress of the house, and lastly, the grandmother.[16]

The supposition may then be hazarded, that in the light of the Indian examples the object may be that some one assumes the part of the bride in order to divert on himself from her the envious glance of the Evil Eye. With the same object it is very common in India to bore the noses of little boys and thus to make them resemble girls. The usual names of Nathu or Bulâqi, the former where the ring was placed in the side of the nose and the latter in the septum, are evidence of this.

The theory of the blot of imperfection again appears in the custom of not washing the face of a little boy till he is six years old.[17] Similarly, young men, if vigorous and stout, consider themselves very liable to the fascination of lean people, and tie a rag round the left arm, or a blue thread round their necks, often twisting the blue feathers of the roller bird into the thread as an additional precaution. Nor do they care to expose their bodies to the public gaze, but wear a light shawl of a gaudy colour, even in the warmest season of the year. Should such a youth, if sufficiently conceited about his personal appearance, detect a suspicious person looking at him, he will immediately pretend to limp, or contort his face and spasmodically grasp his ankle or his elbow as if he were in pain, to distract and divert the attention he fears.

So, all natives dread being stared at, particularly by Europeans; and you will often see a witness cast his eyes on the ground when the magistrate looks him full in the face, sometimes because he knows he is lying and fears the consequences, but it is often done through fear of fascination. A European, in fact, is to the rustic a strange inscrutable personage, gifted with many occult powers both for good and evil, and there are numerous extraordinary legends current about him. We shall return to this in dealing with the wonderful Momiâî story. Here it may be noted that he has control over the Jinn. There was a place near Dera Ghâzi Khân so possessed by them that passersby were attacked. A European officer poured a bottle of brandy on the spot and no Jinn has been seen there ever since. A very dangerous ghost which some time ago used to infest a road in the Rûrki Cantonment was routed in the same way by an artilleryman, who spat on him when he came across him one dark night. The nails of a European, like those of the Râkshasa, distil a deadly poison, and hence he is afraid to eat with his fingers, as all reasonable people do, and prefers to use a knife and fork.

A few other examples illustrating the same principle may be given here. When a man is copying a manuscript, he will sometimes make an intentional blot. A favourite trick is to fold the paper back before the ink of the last line has time to dry, so as to blot and at the same time make it appear the result of chance. We have noticed the same idea in the case of carpet patterns. A similar irregularity is introduced in printing chintzes and like handicrafts, and this goes a long way to explain the occasional and almost unaccountable defects to be found in some native work. The letter from a Râja is spotted with gold leaf, partly to divert fascination and partly to act as a scarer of demons. In fact the two conceptions meet and overlap all through the theory of these protectives.

Another plan is to paint up some hideous figure on the posts or arch of the door. The figure of a Churel or the caricature of a European with his gun is often delineated in this way. Others paint a figure of Yamarâja or some of the gods or saints for the same purpose, and the regular guardian deities, like Hanumân, Bhairon, or Bhîm Sen, often figure on these protective frescoes. So in Italy Mania was a most frightful spirit. “Her frightful image used to be hung over the doors to frighten away evil. This is quite identical with the old Assyrian observance recorded by Lenormant of placing the images of evil or dreaded deities in places to scare away the demons themselves.”[18]

Confectioners, when one of their vessels of milk is exposed to view, put a little charcoal in it, as careful Scotch mothers do in the water in which they wash their babies.[19] The idea is probably connected with the use of fire as a charm. In Scotland it used to be the practice to throw a live coal into the beer vat to avert the influence of the fairies, and a cow’s milk was secured against them by a burning coal being passed across her back and under her belly immediately after calving.[20] In India, if a cow gives a large quantity of milk, the owner tries to hide it, and if it chances to get sour, he attributes the loss to fascination, or the machinations of some enemy, witch, or demon. A mother while dressing her baby makes a black mark on its cheek, and before a man eats betel he pinches off the corner of the leaf as a safeguard. When food is taken to the labourer in the field, a piece of charcoal or copper coin is placed in the basket as a preservative; and when horses while feeding throw a little grain on the ground, it is not replaced, because the horse is believed to do this to avoid fascination. Grooms, with the same object, throw a dirty duster over the withers of a horse while it is feeding, and they are the more particular to do this when it is new moon or moonlight, when spirits are abroad. In the same way, when a man purchases food in the open market, he throws a little into the fire, and when a man is having a specially good dinner, he should select an auspicious moment and do the same. The same idea accounts for various customs of grace-giving at meals. Thus, when the Brâhmans at Pûna begin dinner they repeat the name of Govinda; the Shenavis say, Har! Har! Mahâdeva, and when half finished sing verses; the Mhârs never eat without saying Krishnarpana! or “It is dedicated to Krishna”;[21] the Muhammadan, when he begins to eat, says, Bismillah!—“In the name of God!” and when he finishes he says, Al-hamdulillah!—“Praise be to God!” Orthodox Hindus pretend that this offering of food at a meal is a sacrifice to Annadeva, the god of food; but here many varied beliefs, such as fear of fascination, earth and fire worship, appear to combine to establish these and similar practices.

We now come to consider the various articles which are believed to have the power of scaring spirits, and counteracting demoniacal influence of various kinds.

First among these is iron. Why iron has been regarded as a scarer of demons has been much debated. Natives of India will tell you that it is the material out of which weapons are made, and that an armed man should fear nothing. Others say that its virtues depend on its black colour, which, as we shall see, is obnoxious to evil spirits. Mr. Campbell[22] thinks the explanation may be that in all cases of swooning and seizures iron is of great value, either applied in the form of the cautery or used as a lancet to let blood. The real reason is probably a very interesting survival of folk-thought. We know that in many places the stone axe and arrow head of the Age of Stone are invested with magic qualities, and Mr. Macritchie has gone so far as to assume that the various so-called fairy houses and fairy hills which abound in Europe are really the abodes of a primitive pigmy race, which survive to our days as the fairies. The belief in the fairies would thus go back to a time anterior to the use of metals, and these supernatural beings would naturally feel an abhorrence for iron, a new discovery and one of the greatest ever made by man. There is good evidence in custom that the Age of Stone existed in many places up to comparatively modern times. The Hebrews used a stone knife for circumcision, their altars were forbidden to be hewn, and even Solomon ordered that neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron should be heard while his Temple was building. The same idea appears in many cases in India. The Magahiya Doms, who are certainly one of the most primitive races in the country, place iron under a stringent taboo, and any Magahiya who breaks into a house with an iron implement is not only put out of caste, but it is believed that some day or other he will lose his eyesight. The Agariyas, the primitive iron smelters of the Central Indian Hills, have deified iron under the form of Lohâsura, as the Kaseras or brass-founders worship brass as Kansâsura.

This idea appears in many various forms. We have already noticed the use of iron as a charm against hail. In the same way a sword or knife is placed in the bed of the young mother. She is, at this crisis of her life, particularly exposed to the influence of evil spirits, as the Scotch fairies are very fond of milk, and try to gratify their desires on “unsained” or unchurched women.[23] There is a case in the Indian Law Reports, where the knife thus placed near the woman was used to murder her.[24] Pliny advises that a piece of iron should be placed in the nest of a sitting hen to save her eggs from the influence of thunder. This is now done in Sicily, with the object of absorbing every noise which might be injurious to the chickens.[25] So, the Indians of Canada put out swords in a storm to frighten off the demon of thunder.[26] The common belief is that the evil spirit is such a fool that he runs against the sharp edge of the weapon and allows himself to be wounded.

The magic sword constantly appears in folk-lore. We have Excalibur and Balmung; in the tales of Somadeva it confers the power of making the wearer fly through the air and renders him invincible; the snake demon obtains from the wars of the Gods and the Asuras the magic sword Vaiduryakanti. “Whatever man obtains that sword will become a chief of the Siddhas and roam about unconquered; and that sword can only be obtained by the aid of heroes.”[27]

While a house is being built, an iron pot, or a pot painted black, which is good enough to scare the demon, is always kept on the works, and when it is finished the young daughter of the owner ties to the lintel a charm, which is also used on other occasions, the principal virtue of which consists in a small iron ring. Here is combined the virtue of the iron and the ring, which is a sacred circle. In India iron rings are constantly worn as an amulet against disease, as in Ireland an iron ring on the fourth finger cures rheumatism. The mourner, during the period of ceremonial impurity, carries a knife or a piece of iron to drive off the ghost of the dead man, and the bridegroom in the marriage procession wears a sword as a protection; if he cannot procure a licence from a magistrate to carry a real sword, he gets one made of lath, which is good enough to frighten the evil spirit. In this case he fastens an iron spike to the point. On the same principle the blacksmith’s anvil is used as a hail charm, and any one who dares to sit on it is likely to be punished for the contempt by an attack of boils. The Romans used to drive large nails into the side posts of the door with the same object. We have already noticed the value of iron nails for the purpose of laying the ghost of the Churel, and such nails are in India very commonly driven into the door-post or into the legs of the bed, with the object of resisting evil spirits. The horse-shoe is one special form of the charm. The wild Irish, we are told, used to hang round the necks of children the beginning of St. John’s Gospel, a crooked nail out of a horse-shoe, or a piece of wolf-skin.[28] Why the horse-shoe should be used in this way has been much debated. Mr. Farrer thinks it may be connected with the respect paid to the horse in folk-lore.[29] The Irish say that the reason is that the horse and ass were in the stall when Christ was born, and hence are blessed for evermore.[30] The idea that its shape connects it with the Yonî and phallicism hardly deserves mention. One thing is clear, that the element of luck largely enters into the matter; the shoe must have been found by chance on the road. Mr. Leland says, “To find and pick up anything, at once converts it into a fetish, or insures that all will go well with it, if we say when taking it up, ‘I do not pick it up,’—naming the object—‘I pick up good luck, which may never abandon me!’”[31] This, combined with the general protective power of iron, is probably a sufficient explanation of the practice. The custom is common in India. The great gate of the mosque at Fatehpur Sîkri is covered with them, and the practice is general at many shrines.

There is also a cycle of legends which connect iron with the philosopher’s stone and transmutation into gold. The great Chandra Varma, who was born of the embraces of Chandrama, the Moon god, possessed the power of converting iron into gold. Laliya, a blacksmith of Ahmadâbâd, made an axe for a Bhîl, who returned and complained that it would not cut. Laliya, on looking at it, found that the blade had been turned into gold. On questioning the Bhîl, he ascertained that he had tried to sharpen it on what turned out to be the philosopher’s stone. Laliya, by possession of the stone, acquired great wealth, and was finally attacked by the king’s troops. At last he was obliged to throw the stone into the Bhadar river, where it still lies, but once some iron chains were let down into the water, and when they touched it the links were converted into gold.[32]

Gold and Silver Protectives.

Gold, and in a less degree silver, have a similar protective influence. The idea is apparently based on their scarcity and value, and on their colour—yellow and white being obnoxious to evil spirits. Hence a little bit of gold is put into the mouth of the dying Hindu, and both gold and silver, combined with tigers’ claws and similar protectives, are largely used as amulets. These metals are particularly effective in the form of ornaments, many of which are images of the gods, or have some mystic significance, or are made in imitation of some sacred leaf, flower, or animal. This is one main cause of the recklessness with which rich natives load their children with masses of costly jewellery, though they are well aware that the practice often leads to robbery and murder.

Copper and Brass Protectives.

Next come copper and brass. The use of copper in the form of rings and amulet cases is very common. Many of the vessels used in the daily service of the gods, such as the Argha, with which the daily oblations are made, are made of this metal. So with brass and various kinds of alloy used for bells, drinking and cooking utensils.

The common brass Lota is always carried about by a man during the period of mourning as a preservative against the evil spirits which surround him until the ghost of the dead man is finally laid. Copper rings are specially worn as an antidote to pimples and boils, while those of iron are supposed to weaken the influence of the planet Sani or Saturn, which is proverbially unlucky and malignant. His Evil Eye, in particular, brings misfortune at intervals of twenty-four years; all offerings to him are black, and consequently ill-omened, such as sesamum, charcoal, buffaloes, and black salt; and only the Dakaut, the lowest class of Brâhman priest, will accept such offerings.[33]

Coral and Marine Products Protectives.

Next in value to these metals come coral and other marine products, which in the case of the Hindus probably derive their virtue from being strange to an inland-dwelling people, and as connected with the great ocean, the final home of the sainted dead. Coral is particularly valued in the form of a necklace by those who cannot afford the costlier metals, and its ashes are constantly used in various rustic remedies and stimulants. In Gujarât a coral ring is used to keep off the evil influence of the sun,[34] and in Bengal mourners touch it as a form of purification. According to the old belief in England, coral guarded off lightning, whirlwind, tempests and storms from ships and houses, and was hung round the necks of children to assist teething and keep off the falling sickness.[35] So with shells, particularly the Sankha or conch shell, which is used for oblations and is regarded as sacred to Vishnu. It is blown at his temples when the deity receives his daily meal, in order to wake him and scare off vagrant spirits, who would otherwise consume or defile the offering. This shell, in popular belief, is the bone of the demon Panchajana, who, according to the Vishnu Purâna,[36] “lived in the form of a conch shell under the ocean. Krishna plunged into the water, killed him, took the shell, which constituted his bones, and afterwards used it for a horn. When sounded it fills the demon hosts with dismay, animates the gods, and annihilates unrighteousness.”

All these shells appear to derive part of their virtue from the fact that they are perforated. The cowry shell, which is worn round the neck by children as an antidote to the Evil Eye and diabolical influence, is supposed to have such sympathy with the wearer that it cracks when the evil glance falls upon it, as in England coral was thought to change colour and grow pale when its owner was sick. The cowry shell is, with the same object, tied round the neck or pasterns of a valued horse, or on a cow or buffalo. The shell armlet worn by Bengal women has the same protective influence.[37]

Precious Stones Protectives.

Precious stones possess similar value. Sir Thomas Brown would not deny that bezoar was antidotal, but he could not bring himself to believe that “sapphire is preservative against enchantments.” In one special combination of nine varieties, known as the Nauratana, they are specially efficacious—the ruby sacred to the sun, the pearl to the moon, coral to Mars, emerald to Mercury, topaz to Jupiter, diamond to Venus, sapphire to Saturn, amethyst to Râhu, and the cat’s-eye to Ketu. In the mythology the gods interrupted Pârvatî when she was with Mahâdeva, and nine jewels dropped from her anklet. When he looked at them he saw his image reflected in each of them, and they appeared in the form of the nine Kanyâs or heavenly maidens. The Naulakha or nine lâkh necklace constantly appears in Indian folk-lore. In the story of the Princess Aubergine we read that “inside the fish there is a bumble-bee, inside the bee a tiny box, and inside the box is the wonderful nine lâkh necklace. Put it on and I shall die.” And in one of Somadeva’s stories, at the marriage, Jaya gives the bride a necklace of such a kind that, as long as it is upon a person’s neck, hunger, thirst, and death cannot harm him.[38] It is of jewels that the lamps which light fairy-land are made.

Many of the precious stones have tales and qualities of their own. Once upon a time a holy man came and settled at Panna who had a diamond as large as a cart-wheel. The Râja, hearing of this, tried to take it by force, but the saint hid it in the ground out of his way. He told the Râja that the diamond wheel could not leave his dominions, and that no one could ever find it. The Muhammadans say that all the diamonds found since, in these famous mines, were fragments of the wheel.[39] The wearing of a ring of sapphire, sacred to Sani or Saturn, is supposed to turn out lucky or unlucky, according to circumstances. For this reason, the wearer tries it for three days, that is, he wears it on Saturday, which is sacred to Saturn, and keeps it on till Tuesday. During this time, if no mishap befalls him, he continues to wear it during the period when the planet’s influence is unfavourable; but should any mishap befall him during the three days, he gives the ring to a Brâhman.[40] The amethyst obtains its name because any one who wears it cannot be affected by wine. The turquoise or Fîroza is a mystic stone in India. If you bathe wearing a turquoise, the water touched by it protects the wearer from boils, and snakes will not approach him.[41] Shylock got a turquoise from Leah which he would not have given for a wilderness of monkeys, because it changed colour with the health of the owner, and the Turkeys, says an old writer, “doth move when there is any peril prepared to him that weareth it.”[42] So the onyx, known as the Sulaimâni, or stone of Solomon, has mystic virtues, as, according to Burton, carbuncles and coral, beryl, pearls and rubies were believed to drive away devils, to overcome sorrow, and to stop dreams.[43]

Beads Protectives.

With poorer people beads take the place of gems, and in particular the curious enamelled bead, which probably came from China and is still found in old deserted sites, mostly of Buddhistic origin, enjoys special repute. We have already met with the parturition bead, and in Kolhapur there is a much-valued Arabic stone which, when any woman is in labour, is washed and the water given to her to drink. In Scotland the amber bead cures inflamed eyes and sprains, as in Italy looking through amber beads strengthens the sight.[44] Here the perforation confers a mystical quality. As an antidote to the Evil Eye blue beads are specially valued, and are hung round the necks and pasterns of horses and other valuable animals. The belief in the efficacy of beads is at the basis of the use of rosaries, which, as used in Europe, are almost certainly of Eastern origin, imported in the Middle Ages in imitation of those worn by Buddhistic or Hindu ascetics, who ascribe to them manifold virtue. Such are those of the Tulasî or sacred basil, worn by Vaishnavas, and those of the Rudrâksha, worn by Saivas.

Blood a Protective.

Blood is naturally closely connected with life. “The flesh with the life thereof, which is the blood thereof, shall ye not eat.” Hence blood comes to be a scarer of demons. In Scott’s Lay the wizard’s book would not open till he smeared the cover with the Borderer’s curdled gore. In Cornwall, the burning of blood from the body of a dead animal is a very common method of appeasing the spirits of disease,[45] and the blood sacrifices so prevalent all over the world are performed with the same object. A curious Evil Eye charm is recorded from Allahâbâd. A woman of the Chamâr or carrier caste gave birth to a dead child. Thinking that this was due to fascination, she put a piece of the cloth used at her confinement down a well, having previously enclosed in it two leaves of betel, some cloves, and a piece of the castor-oil plant.[46] Here we have, first, a case of well-worship; secondly, the use of betel, cloves, and the castor-oil plant, all scarers of evil spirits; and thirdly, an instance of the use of blood for the same purpose. We have elsewhere noticed the special character attached to menstrual or parturition blood. But blood itself is most effectual against demoniacal influence. There are many cases where blood is rubbed on the body as an antidote to disease. In Bombay some Marhâtas give warmed goat’s blood in cases of piles, and in typhus, or red discoloration of the skin with blotches, the patient is cured by killing a cock and rubbing the sick man with the blood. Others use the blood of the great lizard in cases of snake-bite.[47] A bath of the blood of children was once ordered for the Emperor Constantine, and because he, moved by the tears of the parents, refused to take it, his extraordinary humanity was rewarded by a miraculous cure.

Similarly, among the Drâvidians, the Kos drink the blood of the sacrificial bull; the Malers cure demoniacs by giving the blood of a sacrificed buffalo; the Pahariyas, in time of epidemics, set up a pair of posts and a cross beam, and hang on it a vessel of blood.[48] So, the Jews sprinkled the door-posts and the horns of the altar with blood, and the same customs prevail among many other peoples.

We shall meet with instances of the same rite when dealing with the blood covenant and human sacrifice. On the same analogy many Indian tribes mark the forehead of the bride with blood or vermilion, and red paint is smeared on the image of the village godling in lieu of a regular sacrifice.

Incense.

Similarly, incense is largely used in religious rites, partly to please with the sweet savour the deity which is being worshipped, and partly to drive away demons who would steal or defile the offerings. Bad smells repel evil spirits, and this is probably why assafœtida is given to a woman after her delivery. In Ireland, if a child be sick, they take a piece of the cloth worn by the person supposed to have overlooked the infant and burn it near him. If he sneezes, he expels the spirit and the spell is broken, or the cloth is burned to ashes and given to the patient, while his forehead is rubbed with spittle. In Northern India, if a child be sick, a little bran, pounded chillies, mustard, and sometimes the eyelashes of the child are passed round its head and burned. If the burning mixture does not smell very badly, which it is needless to say is hardly ever the case, it is a sign that the child is still under the evil influence; if the odour be abominable, that the attack has been obviated.[49] Similarly, in Bengal, red mustard seeds and salt are mixed together, waved round the head of the patient, and then thrown into the fire.[50] This reminds us of the flight of the Evil One into the remote parts of Egypt from the smell of the fish liver burnt by Tobit, and an old writer says: “Wyse clerkes knoweth well that dragons hate nothyng more than the stenche of breenynge bones, and therefore they gaderyd as many as they might fynde, and brent them; and so with the stenche thereof they drove away the dragons, and so they were brought out of greete dysease.”[51]

Spittle.

We have just met with an instance of the use of spittle for the scaring of the disease demon or the Evil Eye. This is a very common form of charm for this purpose. In one of the Italian charms the performer is directed to spit behind himself thrice and not to look back. In another, “if your eyes pain you, you must take the saliva of a woman who has given birth only to boys, not girls. And she must have abstained from sexual union and stimulating food for three days. Then, if her saliva be bright and clear, anoint your eyes with it and they will be cured.”[52] At Innisboffin, in Ireland, when the old women meet a baby out with its nurse they spit on the ground all round it to keep fairies from it. In Wicklow they spit on a child for good luck the first day it is brought out after birth.[53] In several of the European folk-tales we find that spittle has the power of speech. The habit of spitting on the handsell or first money taken in the morning is common. It is done “either to render it tenacious that it may remain with them and not vanish away like a fairy gift, or else to render it propitious and lucky, that it may draw more money to it.”[54] Muhammad advised that when the demon Khanzab interrupted any one at his prayers, he was to spit over his left shoulder three times.

In India, spittle is regarded as impure. Hence a native cleans his teeth daily with a fresh twig of the Nîm tree, and regards the European’s use of the same tooth-brush day after day as one of the numerous extraordinary impurities which we permit. Hence, too, the practice of spitting when any one who is feared or detested passes by. When women see a falling star they spit three times to scare the demon. In Bombay, spittle, especially fasting spittle, is used to rub on wounds as a remedy. It cures inflammation of the eyes, an idea which was familiar to the Jews. It guards children against the Evil Eye. In the Konkan, when a person is affected by the Evil Eye, salt and mustard are waved round his head, thrown into the fire, and he is told to spit. In Gujarât, when an orthodox Shiah Musalmân travels with a Sunni, he spits, and among the Roman Catholics of Kanara, at baptism the priest wets his thumb with spittle and with it touches the child’s ears and nostrils.[55]

Salt.

We have seen above that salt is also used in the same way. Salt, apparently from its power of checking decay, is regarded as possessing mystical powers. All over Europe the spilling of salt in the direction of a person was considered ominous. “It was held to indicate that something had already happened to one of the family, or was about to befall the person spilling it, and also to denote the rupture of friendship.”[56] The custom of putting a plate of salt on a corpse with the object of driving off evil spirits is common in Great Britain. We have already seen that salt is given to children after they have eaten sweets. Many classes of Hindu ascetics bury their dead in salt. It is waved round the head of the bride and bridegroom, and buried near the house door as a charm. In classical antiquity it was mixed with water and sprinkled on the worshippers.

Salutation.

Another way of dispelling evil spirits is by the various forms of salutation, which generally consist in the invocation of some deity. The Hindu says, “Râm! Râm!” when he meets a friend, or Jay Gopâl! “Glory to Krishna!” or whoever his personal god may be, and the same idea accounts for many of the customs connected with the reception of guests, who, coming from abroad, may bring evil spirits with them.

The Separable Soul: Waving.

Another series of prophylactics depends on the idea of the separable soul or that spirits are always fluttering in the air round a person’s head. Hence a long series of customs known as Parachhan, performed at Hindu marriages in Upper India, when lights, a brass tray, grain, and household implements like the rice pounder or grindstone are waved round the head of the married pair as a protective. In Somadeva’s tale of Bhunandana we find that he “performs the ceremony of averting evil spirits from all quarters by waving the hand over the head.”[57] This is perhaps one explanation of the use of flags at temples and village shrines, though in some cases they appear to be used as a perch, on which the deity sits when he makes his periodical visits. Hence, too, feathers have a mystic significance, though in some cases, as in those of the peacock and jay, the colour is the important part. Hence the waving of the fan and Chaurî over the head of the great man and the use of the umbrella as a symbol of royalty. A woman carrying her child on her return from a strange village, lest she should bring the influence of some foreign evil spirit back with her, will, before entering her own homestead, pass seven little stones seven times round the head of the baby, and throw them in different directions, so as to pass away any evil that may have been contracted. When a sorcerer is called in to attend a case attributed to demoniacal possession, he whisks the patient with a branch of the Nîm, Madâr, or Camel thorn, all of which are more or less sacred trees and have acquired a reputation as preservatives. When this is completed, the aspersion of the afflicted one, be he man or beast, with some water from the blacksmith’s shop, in which iron has been repeatedly plunged and has bestowed additional efficacy upon it, usually follows.

Blacksmith, Respect for.

The respect paid to the trade of the blacksmith is a curious survival from the time of the early handicrafts and the substitution of weapons of iron for those of stone.[58] In Scotland the same belief in the virtues of the water of the forge prevails, and in Ireland no one will take anything by stealth from such a place.[59] In St. Patrick’s Hymn we have a prayer against “the spells of women, of smiths, and of druids.” Culann, the mystic smith, appears in Celtic folk-lore. In all the mythologies the idea is widespread that the art of smithing was first discovered and practised by supernatural personages. We see this through the whole range of folk-lore, from the Cyclopes to Wayland Smith, who finally came to be connected with the Devil of Christianity.[60]

Water.

We have already referred to water as a protective against the influence of evil spirits. We see this principle in the rite of ceremonial bathing as a propitiation for sin. It also appears in the use of water which has been blown upon by a holy man as a remedy for spirit possession. Among many menial tribes in the North-Western Provinces with the same object the bride is washed in the water in which the bridegroom has already taken his wedding bath. Again, on a lucky day fixed by the Pandit the rite of Nahâwan or ceremonial bathing is performed for the protection of the young mother and her child two or three days after her confinement. Both of them are bathed in a decoction of the leaves of the Nîm tree. Then a handful of the seeds of mustard and dill are waved round the mother’s head and thrown into a vessel containing fire. When the seeds are consumed the cup is upset, and the mother breaks it with her own foot. Next she sits with grain in her hand, while the household brass tray is beaten to scare demons and the midwife throws the child into the air. All this takes place in the open air in the courtyard of the house. Here we have a series of antidotes to demoniacal possession, the purport of which will be easily understood on principles which have been already explained.

Grain.

With this use of grain we meet with another valuable antidote. We have it in Great Britain in the rule that “the English, when the bride comes from church, are wont to cast wheat upon her head.”[61] It survives in our custom of throwing rice over the wedded pair when they start on the honeymoon. On the analogy of other races one object of the rite would seem to be to keep in the soul which is likely to depart at such a crisis in life as marriage. Thus, “in Celebes they think that a bridegroom’s soul is apt to fly away at marriage, so coloured rice is scattered over him to induce it to stay. And, in general, at festivals in South Celebes rice is strewed on the head of the person in whose honour the festival is held, with the object of retaining his soul, which at such times is in especial danger of being lured away by envious demons.”[62]

This rite appears widely in Indian marriage customs. Among the Mhârs of Khândesh, on the bridegroom approaching the bride’s house, a piece of bread is waved round his head and thrown away.[63] In a Kunbi’s wedding a ball of rice is waved round the boy’s head and thrown away, and at the lucky moment grains of rice are thrown over the couple. Among the Telang Nhâvis of Bijaypur the chief marriage rite is that the priest throws rice over the boy and girl. The grain acquires special efficacy if it be either parched, and thus purified by fire, or if it be stained in some lucky or demon-scaring colour.[64] Thus, in Upper India grain parched with a special rite is thrown over the pair as they revolve round the marriage shed, and this function is, if possible, performed by the brother of the bride. Rice stained yellow with turmeric is very often used for this purpose. Another device is to make a pile of rice, with a knot of turmeric and a copper coin concealed in it. This at a particular stage of the service the bride knocks down with her foot. The Lodhis of the Dakkhin, in the same way, put a pile of rice at the door of the boy’s house, which he upsets with his foot. All through Northern India the exorciser shakes grain in a fan, which is, as we shall see, a potent fetish, and by the number of grains which remain in the interstices calculates which particular ghost is worrying the patient. On the same principle the Orâons put rice in the mouth of the corpse, and the Koiris, when they marry, walk round a pile of water-pots and scatter rice on the ground.[65] The custom of sprinkling grain at marriage appears in many of the folk-tales.

Urad.

We are familiar in Roman literature with the use of beans at funerals, and at the Lemuria thrice every other night to pacify the ghosts of the dead beans were flung on the fire of the altar to drive the spirits out of the house. The same idea appears in the Carlings or fried peas given away and eaten on the Sunday before Palm Sunday.[66] No special sanctity appears to apply to the pea or bean in India, but they are replaced by the Urad pulse, which is much used in rites of all kind, and especially in magic, when it is thrown over the head of the person whom the magician wishes to bring under his control.[67]

Barley.

Barley, another sacred grain, is rubbed over the corpse of a Hindu and sprinkled on the head before the cremation rite is performed. So, the Orâons throw rice on the urn as they take it to the tomb, and sprinkle grain on the ground behind the bones to keep the spirit from coming back.[68]

Sesamum.

Til or black sesamum, again, has certain qualities of the same kind. Hence it is used in the funeral rites, and in form of Tilanjalî or a handful mixed with water is one of the offerings to the sainted dead, and made up in the form of a cow, called Tiladhenu, it is presented to Brâhmans.

Sheaves.

Most grains in the ear have also mystic uses. It is hung up over the house door to repel evil spirits, and in Hoshangâbâd they tie a sheaf of corn on a pole and fasten it to the cattle shed as a preservative.[69] The combination of seven kinds of grain, known as Satnaja, is an ingredient in numerous charms and is used in many forms of worship.

Milk.

So with the products of the sacred cow, which are, as might have been expected, most valuable for this purpose. Hence the use of Ghilor or clarified butter in the public and domestic ritual. Milk for the same reason is used in offerings and sprinkled on the ground as an oblation. Cowdung, in particular, is regarded as efficacious. After the death or birth impurity the house is carefully plastered with a mixture of cowdung and clay. No cooking place is pure without it, and the corpse is cremated with cakes of cowdung fuel. Even the urine of the cow is valued as a medicine and a purificant. The cow guards the house from evil, and every rich man keeps a cow so that his glance may fall on her when he wakes from sleep, and he regards her as the guardian of the household.

Colours.

Colours, again, are scarers of evil spirits. They particularly dread yellow, black, red, and white. The belief in the efficacy of yellow accounts for the use of turmeric in the domestic ritual.[70] A few days before the marriage rites commence the bride and bridegroom are anointed with a mixture of oil and turmeric known as Abtan. The bride assumes a robe dyed in turmeric, which she wears until the wedding. The marriage letter of invitation is coloured with turmeric, and splashes of it are made on the wall and worshipped by the married pair. In the old times the woman who performed Satî, and nowadays married women who die, are taken to the pyre wrapped in a shroud dyed with turmeric. The corpse is very often smeared with turmeric before cremation, a custom which is not peculiar to the so-called Aryan Hindus, because it prevails among the Thârus, one of the most primitive tribes of the sub-Himâlayan forests. The same principle probably explains the use of yellow clothes by certain classes of ascetics, and of Chandan or sandal-wood in making caste marks and for various ceremonial purposes.

Yellow and red are the usual colours of marriage garments, and the parting of the bride’s hair is stained with vermilion, though here the practice is probably based on the symbolical belief in the Blood Covenant. The same idea is probably the explanation of the flinging of red powder and water coloured with turmeric at the Holî or spring festival.

Black, again, is feared by evil spirits, and the husbandman hangs a black pot in his field to scare spirits and evade the Evil Eye, and young women and children have their eyelids marked with lampblack. In the Mirzapur Baiga’s sacrifice the black fowl or the black goat is the favourite victim, and charcoal is valued, some put into the milk as a preservative and some buried under the threshold to guard the household from harm.

Grasses.

For the same reason various kinds of grass are considered sacred, such as the Kusa, the Dûrva, the Darbha. Among the Prabhus of Bombay juice of the Dûrva grass is poured into the left nostril of a woman when the pregnancy and coming of age rites are performed, and the Kanaujiya Brâhman husband drops some of the juice down her nose when she reaches maturity.[71] The Sholapur Mângs when they come back from the grave strew some Hariyâli grass and Nîm leaves on the place where the deceased died. The Mûnj grass is also sacred, and a thread made of it is worn at one stage of the Brâhman’s life. Some of these sacred grasses form an important ingredient in the Srâddha offerings to the sacred dead, some are used in the marriage and cremation ritual, on some the dying man is laid at the moment of dissolution. They are potent to avert the Evil Eye, and hence the mother of Râma and Lakshmana, when she looks at them, breaks a blade of grass.[72]

Tattooing.

Next come special marks made on the body. Such are the marks branded on various parts of their bodies by many classes of ascetics, and the caste marks made in clay or ashes by most high-class Hindus. It has been suggested that many of these marks are of totemistic origin. That this is so among races beyond the Indian border is almost certainly the case.[73] But though tattooing, a widespread practice of the Indian people, very possibly originated in totemism, still, as far as has hitherto been ascertained, no distinct trace remains of a tribal tattoo, and it is safer at present to class marks of this kind in the general category of devices to repel evil spirits. Among purely sectarial marks we have the forehead mark of the Saivas, composed of three curved lines like a half-moon, to which is added a round mark on the nose; it is made with the clay of the Ganges, or with sandal-wood, or the ashes of cowdung, the ashes being supposed to represent the disintegrating force of the deity. The mark of the Vaishnavas is in the form of the foot of Vishnu, and consists of two lines rather oval drawn the whole length of the nose and carried forward in straight lines across the forehead. It is generally made with the clay of the Ganges, sometimes with the powder of sandal-wood. The Sâkta forehead mark is a small semi-circular line between the eyebrows, with a dot in the middle.

The practice of tattooing is common both among the Aryan and Drâvidian races, but is more general among the lower than the higher castes. Thus, the Juâng women tattoo themselves with three strokes on the forehead just over the nose, and three on each of the temples. They attach no meaning to the marks, have no ceremony in adopting them, and are ignorant of the origin of the practice. The Khariya women make three parallel marks on the forehead, the outer lines terminating at the ends in a crook, and two on each temple. The Ho women tattoo themselves in the form of an arrow, which they regard as their national emblem. The Birhor women tattoo their chests, arms, and ankles, but not their faces. The Orâon women have three marks on the brow and two on each temple. The young men burn marks on their fore-arms as part of the ordeal ceremony; girls, when adult, or nearly so, have themselves tattooed on the arms and back. The Kisân women have no such marks; if a female of the tribe indulges herself in the vanity of having herself tattooed, she is at once turned adrift as having degraded herself. Here we may have some faint indications of a tribal tattoo, but among most of the tribes which practise the custom it has become purely protective or ornamental.[74]

Among the Drâvidian tribes of the North-Western Provinces tattooing generally prevails. The Korwas and many other of these tribes get their women tattooed by a woman of the Bâdi sub-division of Nats. They are tattooed only on the breast and arms, not on the thighs. There are no ceremonies connected with it, nor any special pattern. Any girl gets herself tattooed in any figure she approves for a small sum. Well-to-do women always get it done; but if a woman is not tatooed, it is not considered unlucky. The men of the tribe are not tattooed. The Ghasiya women tattoo themselves on the breasts, arms, thighs, and feet. They say that when a woman dies who is not tattooed, the Great Lord Parameswar is displeased and turns her out of heaven, or has her branded with the thorn of the acacia. In the same way among the Chamârs, when a woman who has not been tattooed dies, Parameswar asks her where are the marks and signs which she ought to possess to show that she had lived in the world. If she cannot show them, she will in her next birth be re-born as a Bhûtnî, Pretnî, or Râkshasî.

At present among low-caste women the process of tattooing is regarded as a species of initiation, and usually marks the attainment of puberty. It thus corresponds with the rite of ear-piercing among males. To the east of the North-West Provinces a girl is not allowed to cook until she is tattooed with a mark representing the Sîtâ kî Rasoî or cook-house of Sîtâ, and in Bengal high-caste people will not drink from the hands of a girl who does not wear the Ullikhî or star-shaped tattoo mark between her eyebrows. A Chamâr woman who is not tattooed at marriage will not, it is believed, see her father and mother in the next world. This reminds us of the idea prevalent in Fiji, that women who are not tattooed are liable to special punishment in the land of the dead.[75] In Bombay the custom has been provided with a Brâhmanical legend. One day Lakshmî, the wife of Vishnu, told her husband that whenever he went out on business or to visit his devotees she became frightened. Hearing this, Vishnu took his weapons and stamped them on her body, saying that the marks of his weapons would save her from evil.

Hence women in Bombay tattoo themselves with the figures of the lotus, conch shell, and discus, and from this the present custom is said to have originated.[76]

In Upper India the forms of the tattoo marks fall into various classes. Some are rude or conventionalized representations of animals, plants, and flowers. The operators carry round with them sketches of the different kinds of ornament, and the girl selects these according to taste. The peacock, the horse, the serpent, the scorpion, tortoise, centipede, appear constantly in various forms. Others, again, are representations of jewellery actually worn—necklaces, bracelets, armlets, or rings. Others, again, are purely religious, such as the trident or matted hair of Siva, the weapons of Vishnu, and the cooking house of Sîtâ, the type of wifely virtue. Some of these marks were probably of totemistic origin, but they have now become merely ornamentative, as was the case in Central Asia in the time of Marco Polo, where they were regarded only as “a piece of elegance or a sign of gentility,” and among the Thracians, as described by Herodotus.[77] It may be noticed that in the time of Marco Polo people used to go from Upper India to Zayton in China to be tattooed.[78] These animal forms of tattooing are found also among the Drâvidian tribes of the Central Provinces, where the forms used are a peacock, an antelope, or a dagger, and the marks are made on the back of the thighs and legs. In Bengal tattooing is used as a cure for goitre.[79]

We may close this long catalogue of devices intended to scare spirits, with a number of miscellaneous examples.

It seems to be a well-established principle that evil spirits fear leather. On this is perhaps based the idea of the shoe being a mode of repelling the Evil Eye and the influence of demons. We find this constantly appearing in the folk-lore of the West. Thus, the Highlanders paid particular attention to the leaving of the bridegroom’s left shoe without buckle or latchet, to prevent the secret influences of witches on the wedding night.[80] And Hudibras tells how—

Augustus having by oversight

Put on his left shoe ’fore his right,

Had like to have been slain that day

By soldiers mutinying for pay.”

Maidens in Europe ascertain whether they will be married and who will be their future husbands by throwing the slipper at the new year. The throwing of old shoes at an English wedding seems on the same principle to be based on the idea of scaring the demon of barrenness. According to Mr. Hartland,[81] the gipsies of Transylvania throw old shoes and boots on a newly married pair when they enter their tent, expressly to enhance the fertility of the union.

In the same way in India, people who are too poor to afford another protective place on the top of their houses a shoe heel upwards. This seems to give some additional efficacy to the charm, because we find the same rule in force elsewhere. Thus, in Cornwall, a slipper with the point turned up placed near the bed cures cramp.[82] In Pûna, if a man feels that he has been struck by an incantation, he at once takes hold of an upturned shoe.[83]

The fear which spirits feel for leather is also illustrated by the procedure of the Drâvidian Baiga, who flagellates people suffering from demoniacal possession with a tawse or leathern strap. In the Dakkhin a person troubled with nightmare sleeps with a shoe under his pillow, and an exorcist frightens evil spirits by threatening to make them drink water from a tanner’s well. We shall see that this is one way of punishing and repelling the power of witches. The Pûna Kunbis believe that a drink of water from a tanner’s hand destroys the power of a witch. In the Panjâb, if a man sits on a currier’s stone, he gets boils.[84] The same principle probably accounts for much of the fear or contempt generally felt in India regarding shoe-beating as a form of punishment. At the same time it is said in Persia and Arabia that the dread of a flagellation with the slipper is based on the idea that while a flogging with the regular scourge involves little discredit, a beating with anything not originally intended for the purpose, such as a shoe or knotted cloth, is disgraceful.

The same feeling for the power of leather possibly explains the use as a seat of various kinds of skins, such as those of the tiger and antelope, by many kinds of ascetics, and in the old ritual the wife with her husband sat on the hide of a bull to promote the fertility of their union.

Garlic.

Garlic, again, from its pungency, is valued in the same way. Garlic was one of the substances used by Danish mothers to keep evil from children.[85] The Swedish bridegroom sews in his clothes garlic, cloves, and rosemary. Garlic was an early English cure for a fiend-struck patient.[86] Juvenal said that the Egyptians had gods growing in their gardens, in allusion to their reverence for onions or garlic. In Sanskrit garlic is called Mlechha-kanda, “the foreigner’s root,” and its virtues for the removal of demons are so well known that it will be often seen hung from the lintel of the house door. The same idea may account for the very common prejudice among some castes against eating onions.

Glass.

Glass in the form of beads, which seem to derive some of their efficacy from being perforated, is also very useful in this way. Mirrors from time immemorial have been held to possess the same quality. “Fascinators, like basilisks, had their own terrible glance turned against them if they saw themselves reflected,” “Si on luy presente un miror, par endardement reciproque, ces rayons retournent sur l’autheur d’iceux.” Philostratus declares that if a mirror be held before a sleeping man during a hail or thunder-storm, the storm will cease.[87] Hence women in India wear mirrors in their thumb rings, and the Jâtnî covers her sheet with little pieces of shining glass.

Pieces of horn, especially that which is said to come from the jackal, and that of the antelope, are also efficacious. The bâzâr Banya treasures up the gaudy labels from his cloth bales for the same purpose. Garlands of flowers possess the same quality, and so do various fruits, such as dates, cocoanuts, betel-nuts, and plantains, which are placed in the lap of the bride or pregnant woman to scare the evil spirits which cause barrenness, and sugar is distributed at marriages. The bones of the camel are very useful for driving off insects from a sugar-cane field, and buried under the threshold keep ghosts out of the house. Pliny says that a bracelet of camel’s hair keeps off fever.[88]

Lastly, the demon may be trapped by physical means. “To be delivered from witches they hang in their entries whitethorn gathered on May Day.”[89] So, many of the menial castes in the North-West Provinces keep a net and some thorns in the delivery room to scare evil spirits.

There are certain persons who are naturally protected from the Evil Eye and demoniacal agency, or who have control over evil spirits. Such is a man born by the foot presentation, who can cure rheumatism and various other diseases by merely rubbing the part affected. Men with double thumbs are considered safe against the Evil Eye, and so is a bald man, apparently because no one thinks it worth his while to envy such people. According to English belief, children born after midnight have power all through their lives of seeing the spirits of the departed. In India, people who are born within the period of the Salono festival in August are not only protected from, but possess the power of casting, the Evil Eye. The same is the case of those who have accidentally eaten ordure in childhood. We have already noticed the mystic power of cowdung. Dung generally is offensive to spirits. It was believed in Europe that horsedung placed before the house or behind the door brought good luck.[90] Women who eat dung possess, as we shall see, the power of witchcraft.

A man with only one eye is dreaded because he is naturally envious of those with good sight, and he is proverbially a scoundrel. The giant with one eye is familiar in folk-lore, and he is generally vicious and malignant. We have the black man of Celtic folk-lore who has only one eye and one leg.[91] In the Irish tales Crinnaur, like the Cyclopes, has only one eye. Sindbad in his third voyage encounters a monster of the same kind. Laplanders have a one-eyed giant Stalo, and in one of the modern versions of the Perseus myth there are two hags who have only a single eye between them. The same idea appears in Indian folk-lore. The planet Sukra is said to have only one eye. Such was also the case with the monster Kabandha, who was killed by Râma, and Arâyî, the female fiend of the Veda. The one-eyed devil appears in one of the Kashmîr tales.[92]

Gonds: Procedure in Cases of Fascination.

The Gonds have a special procedure in cases of deaths which they believe to have occurred through fascination. The burning of the body is postponed till it is made to point out the delinquent. The relations solemnly call upon the corpse to do this, and the theory is that if there has been foul play of any kind, the body on being taken up, will force the bearers to convey it to the house of the person by whom the spell was cast. If this be three times repeated, the owner of the house is condemned, his property is destroyed, and he is expelled from the neighbourhood.[93]

Amulets.

In ordinary cases most people find it advisable to carry an amulet of some kind as a preservative. An amulet is primarily a portion of a dead man or animal, by which hostile spirits are coerced or their good offices secured.[94] The amulet, then, in its original sense, is supposed to concentrate in itself the virtues and powers of the man or animal of which it formed a part. Hence the claws of the tiger, which represent in themselves the innate strength and bravery of the animal, are greatly esteemed for this purpose, and the sportsman, when he shoots a tiger, has to count over the claws carefully to the coolies in charge of the dead animal, or they will certainly misappropriate them. In the same way a portion of the umbilical cord is placed among the clothes of the mother and infant to avert the Evil Eye and scare the demons which are then particularly active.

Mr. Ferguson may be correct in his opinion that in India, prior to the distribution of the remains of the Buddha at Kusinagara, we have no historical record of the worship of relics;[95] still the idea must have prevailed widely among the Hindu races, out of whom the votaries of the new faith were recruited. With some of these relics of the Buddha, such as his begging bowl, which was long kept in a Dagoba or Vihâra erected by King Kanishka, then removed for a time to Benares, and finally to Kandahâr, where it is now held in the highest respect by Musalmâns, and has accumulated round it a cycle of legends like those connected with the Sangrail, we reach the zone of pure fetishism.

Another form of amulet is a piece of metal, stone, bone, or similar substance worn on the person, with an invocation inscribed on it to some special god. These are very commonly used among Muhammadans. By Hindus the “Yantras or mystic diagrams are thought to be quite as effective in their operation as the Mantras or spells, and, of course, a combination of the two is held to be absolutely irresistible. An enemy may be killed or removed to some other place, or a whole army destroyed, or salvation and supreme felicity obtained by drawing a six-sided or eight-sided diagram and writing a particular Mantra underneath. If this be done with the blood of an animal killed sacrificially in a Smasâna or place where corpses are burned, no power in earth or heaven can resist the terrific potency of the charm.”[96] On the same principle Hindus head their letters with the words Srî Râmjî! “the great god, Râma,” or the figures 74, of which one not very probable explanation is that they represent the weight in maunds of the gold ornaments taken from the Râjput dead at the famous siege of Chithor.

The equilateral triangle is another favourite mystic sign. According to the Christian ideas, the figure of three triangles intersected and containing five lines, is called the pentangle of Solomon, and when it is delineated on the body of a man, it marks the five places in which our Saviour was wounded; it was, therefore, regarded as a fuga demonum, or a means of frightening demons.[97] Similarly in Northern India, the equilateral triangle is regarded as a mystic sign, and the little broadcloth bags hung round the necks of children to avert the Evil Eye are made in this shape. The diamond shape is also approved because it contains two equilateral triangles base to base.

Another form of mystic sign is the mark of the spread hand with the fingers extended. This is made by the women of the family on the outer wall and round the door-post, and is considered to be particularly efficacious. Mr. Campbell suggests that the custom is based on the belief in the hand being a spirit entry.[98] Natives will tell you that it is because the number five, that of the fingers, is lucky. However this may be, the custom is very generally prevalent. The Bloody Hand of Ulster, worn as a crest by the Baronets of one creation, is well known.[99] The Uchlas of Pûna strew sand on the spot where the dead man breathed his last. They cover the spot with a basket, which they raise next morning in the hope of finding the mark of a palm, which shows that the dead is pleased and brings vigour on the family; and the Thâkurs on the fifth day after the birth of a child dip a hand in red powder and water and make a mark on the wall of the lying-in room, which they worship.[100] At the rock-cut temple of Tilok Sendur in Hoshangâbâd, an annual festival is held, and those who come to demand any special benefit, such as health or children, mark their vow by staining their hand dipped in red paint against the rock wall, fingers upward. If the prayer be heard, they revisit the place and make the same mark, this time with the fingers downward; but whether Mahâdeva is not gracious to his votaries, or whether it is that the sense of favours to come is not keen enough after the prayer of the moment has been granted, the hand-stamps pointing downwards are not a tenth in number of those pointing upwards.[101] The stamping of the hand and five fingers immersed in a solution of sandal-wood has always been regarded as a peculiarly solemn mode of attesting an important document, and it is said that Muhammad himself adopted this practice.[102]

There are numerous varieties of these protective amulets. One purpose which they serve is the procuring of offspring. Children naturally require special protection. Thus, the Mirzapur Korwas tie on the necks of their children roots of various jungle plants, such as the Siyâr Singhî, which owes its name and repute to its resemblance to the so-called horn of the jackal. In cases of disease the Kharwârs wear leaves of the Bel, a sacred tree, cloves and flowers selected by a Brâhman. In the Konkan, in order that a child may not suffer from the Evil Eye, a necklace of marking nuts is put round its neck.[103] The Gûjars of Hazâra hang the berries of the Batkar tree (Celtis caucasia) round the necks of men and animals to protect them from the Evil Eye.[104] The pious Musalmân inscribes on his amulet the five verses known as Ayâtu-l-Hifz or “verses of protection,” or he makes a magic square with the letters making up the word Hâfiz, “the protector.” Many village Musalmâns use little stone or glass tablets for the same purpose. Some have a hocus-pocus inscription purporting to be a verse of the Qurân in Arabic; others have the name of Fâtima coupled with that of the famous martyrs Hasan and Husain. Another amulet of a very elaborate character is described as containing a piece of the umbilical cord encased in metal, a tiger’s claw, two claws of the large horned owl turned in opposite directions, and encased in metal, a stone known as the Athrâhâ kâ mankâ, because it has the property of turning eight colours according to the light in which it is placed (probably a tourmaline or quartzose pebble), and a special Evil Eye destroyer in the shape of a jasper or marble bead. These five articles are necessaries, but as an extra precaution the amulet contained some crude gold, a whorled shell, an ancient copper coin, some ashes from the fire of a Jogi ascetic, and the five ingredients of the sacred incense. The owner admitted that it would have been improved had it also contained a magic square.[105] This reminds us of the necklace of amber beads hung round the neck of Scotch children to keep off ill-luck, and the Irish scapular, a piece of cloth on which the name of the Virgin Mary is written on one side, and I.H.S. on the other, which are preservatives against evil spirits. In old times in England such charms were called Characts, and one found with a criminal contained an invocation to the three holy kings, Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar.[106]

One of the most valuable of these protectives is the magic circle, which appears in various forms through the whole range of folk-lore. The idea is that no evil spirit can cross the sacred line. Thus, in Mirzapur they make a circle of grain round the circular pile of corn on the threshing-floor to guard it from evil. Among some castes the circle round which the bride and bridegroom revolve at marriage is guarded by a circular line of string hung on the necks of a number of water-pots surrounding it. We have seen how the Baiga perambulates his village and drops a line of spirits round the boundary to repel foreign ghosts. This accounts for the stone circles which are found both in Europe and in India, and in Ireland are considered to be the resort of the fairies.[107]

We have constant references to the same custom in the folk-tales. Lakshmana, in the Râmâyana, draws such a circle round Sîtâ when he is obliged to leave her alone. We have many references to the circle within which the ascetic or magician sits when he is performing his sorceries. Thus, in the story of Nischayadatta, the ascetics “quickly made a great circle with ashes, and entering into it, they lighted a fire with fuel, and all remained there muttering a charm to protect themselves.” In the tales of the Vetâla, we find the mendicant under a banyan tree engaged in making a circle, and Ksantisila makes a circle of the yellow powder of bones, the ground within which was smeared with blood, and which had pitchers of blood placed in the direction of the cardinal points.[108]

The same idea appears in the magic circle used as an ordeal, or to compel payment of a debt. Thus, we read in Marco Polo:[109] “If a debtor have been several times asked by his creditor for payment and shall have put him off day by day with promises, then if the creditor once meet the debtor and succeed in drawing a circle round him, the latter must not pass out of this circle until he shall have satisfied the claim, or given security for its discharge. If he in any other case presume to pass the circle, he is punished with death, as a transgressor against right and justice.” In Northern India this circle is known as a Gururu or Gaurua, and a person who takes an oath stands within it, or takes from inside an article which he claims. In one form of this ceremony the circle is made on the ground with calf’s dung by an unmarried girl, and in the centre is placed a vessel of water. If money is in dispute, the amount claimed is placed in the water vessel by the defendant. The narrator tells a story to prove the efficacy of the rite:—

“My father owed a Kalwâr one rupee and the Kalwâr claimed five. The matter was brought before the tribal council, and the Kalwâr swore to the five rupees upon the Gaurua. Within an hour his boy, while playing behind the house, was carried off by a wolf. He was rescued, but he was under the curse of the Gaurua, and shortly after he put his finger into a rat hole, was bitten by a snake, and died within the hour.”[110]

The Ring, Bracelet, and Knotted Cord.

From the same principle arises the belief in the magic virtue of the ring, the bracelet, and the knotted cord.

To begin with rings—we have in Plato the story of Gyges, who by means of the ring of invisibility introduced himself to the wife of Candaules, King of Lycia, murdered the latter and got possession of his kingdom. This is like the cloak or cap which appears so constantly in folk-lore. In the Indian tales invisibility is generally obtained by means of a magic ointment, to which there are many parallels in Western stories. We find also the magic ring, which, like that of Ala-ud-dîn, when touched procures the presence and aid of the demons. A woman’s nose-ring in India has special respect paid to it, and for a stranger even to mention it is a breach of delicacy.[111] It is the symbol of married happiness, and is removed when the wearer becomes a widow. Among Muhammadans, Shiah women remove their nose-rings during the Muharram as a sign of mourning. There was an old habit in England of marrying by the rush ring, “but it was chiefly practised by designing men, for the purpose of debauching their mistresses, who sometimes were so infatuated as to believe that this mock ceremony was a real marriage.”[112] In the same way in India a ring of Kusa grass is put on the finger during the most sacred rites and at marriage. The custom appears in the folk-tales. The ring represents an imperishable bond between the giver and the receiver, and is a symbol of the original blood covenant, which is an important element in the belief of all primitive people.[113]

The idea of the magic ring constantly appears in folk-lore. Thus, we have the ring placed in a sacred square and sprinkled with butter-milk, which immediately gives whatever the owner demands. In one of the Kashmîr tales the merchant’s son speaks to the magic ring, and immediately a beautiful house and a lovely woman with golden hair appeared.[114] So, in the tales of Somadeva, Sridatta places a ring on the finger of the unconscious princess and she immediately revives; the disloyal wife here, as in the “Arabian Nights,” takes a ring from each of her lovers as a token.[115]

The same idea attaches to the bracelet, which is in close connection with the soul of the wearer. Such is the Chandanhâr or sandal-wood necklace of Chandan Râja, and Sodewa Bâî is born with a golden necklace round her neck, concerning which her parents consulted the astrologers. They announced, “This is no common child; the necklace of gold about your daughter’s neck contains your daughter’s soul. Let it, therefore, be guarded with the utmost care; for if it were taken off and worn by another person, she would die.”[116] The same idea appears in the Kashmîr tales, where Panj Phûl refuses to give up her necklace, as “it contains the secret of her life, and was a charm to her against all dangers, sickness and trials; deprived of it she might become sick and miserable, or be taken away from them and die.”[117] All this is based on the conception of the external soul, to which reference has been already made. The Mâls of Bîrbhûm exchange necklaces at marriages, and the Princess Kalingasenâ wears a bracelet and necklace of lotus fibre to secure relief from the pains of love.[118]

The same idea shows itself in the use of strings and knots. In Northern India a piece of bat’s bone is tied round the ankle as a remedy for rheumatism, and answers to the eel-skin, which is used for the same purpose in Europe.[119] In the Shetland Islands, to cure a sprain, a thread of black wool with nine knots is tied on the injured place with a metrical spell.[120] An Italian charm says: “Take from a live hare the ankle bone, remove the hair from his belly, from the hair make a thread, and with it tie the bone to the body of the sufferer, and you will see a wonderful cure.”[121] In Ireland a strand of black wool is tied round the ankle, and a charm is recited to cure a sprain; a red string is tied round a child’s neck in chincough and epilepsy.[122] In Hoshangâbâd a thread is tied round the ankle as a remedy in fever. If possible, a bit of Ashtara root should be fastened in the knot, and before tying it an oblation of butter is burnt before it.[123] Similarly, a peacock’s feather tied on the ankle cures a wound. In the Panjâb, it is a charm against snake-bite to smoke one of the tail feathers of the peacock in a tobacco pipe.[124] The Râjput father binds round the arm of his new-born infant a root of that species of grass known as the Amardûb or “imperishable” Dûb, well known for its nutritive qualities and luxuriant vegetation, in the same way as Scotch women wear round their necks blue woollen threads or small cords till they wean their children.[125] We have already noticed the efficacy of various grasses as spirit scarers.

Lastly, the cord itself has powers in folk-lore, and we meet with the magic cord, which, tied round the neck of the hero by a witch, makes him turn into a ram or an ape.[126]

The belief in the efficacy of the magic circle accounts for a variety of other customs. Thus, in a family sacrifice among the Chakmas of Bengal, round the whole sacrificial platform had been run, from the house mother’s distaff, a long white thread which encircled the altar, and then carried into the house, was held at the two ends by the good man’s wife. Among the Hâris, at marriages, the right hand little finger of the bridegroom’s sister’s husband is pierced, and a few drops of blood allowed to fall on threads of jute, which are rolled up in a tiny pellet. This the bridegroom holds in his hand, while the bride attempts to snatch it from him. Her success in the attempt is considered to be a good omen of the happiness of the marriage.[127] Here we have a survival of descent in the female line, the blood covenant, and the magic influence of the cord all combined.

Connected with this is the belief in the forming a connection by knotting the magic string. We have the European true love-knot, an emblem of fidelity between the pair betrothed. So in Italy interlaced serpents and all kinds of interweaving, braiding, and interlacing cords are valuable as protectives because they attract the eyes of witches.[128] Thus, among the Kârans of Bengal, the essential part of the marriage ceremony is believed to be the laying of the bride’s right hand in that of the bridegroom, and binding their two hands together with a piece of string spun in a special way.[129] This belief in the mystic power of knots is common in all folk-lore.[130] The clothes of the bride and bridegroom in Upper India are knotted together as they revolve round the sacred fire. A similar belief explains the wearing of the Janeû or sacred thread by high-caste Hindus. The knots on it, known as Brahma-granthi, or “the knots of the Creator,” repel evil influences, and Muhammadans on their birthdays tie knots in a cord, which is known as the Sâlgirah or “year knot.”

Face-covering.

Another device to avoid fascination or other dangerous influence is to cover the face so as to prevent the evil glance reaching the victim for whom it is intended. Thus, at widow marriages in Northern India, the bride and bridegroom are covered with a sheet during the rite, probably in order to avert the envious or malignant influence of the spirit of the woman’s first husband. It is in secret that the bridegroom marks the parting of the bride’s hair with vermilion. So in Bombay,[131] the Chitpâwan bride in one part of the wedding service has her head covered with a piece of broadcloth. The Ramoshis tie the ends of the bride’s and bridegroom’s robes to a cloth which four men of the family hold over them. The Dhors of Pûna put a face-cloth on the dead, which is a general practice all over the world. The same belief is almost certainly at the root of much of the customs of Pardah and the seclusion of women. It is as much through fear of fascination as modesty that women draw their sheet across the face when they meet a stranger in the streets. We come across the same feeling in the rule by which all doors were closed when the princess in the “Arabian Nights” went to the bath, and when not long ago the Mikado of Japan and other Eastern potentates took their walks abroad. We thus reach by another route the cycle of Godiva legends.[132]

Omens.

Closely connected with the class of ideas which we have been discussing is the belief in omens. This constitutes a very important branch of folk-lore both in the West and in the East. The success of a journey or enterprise is believed in a great measure to depend on the object which was first seen in the morning, or observed on the road at an early period of the march. Thus, according to Theophrastus, “The superstitious man, if a weasel run across his path, will not pursue his walk until some one else has traversed the road, or until he has thrown three stones across it.” And Sir Thomas Brown writes: “If an hare cross the highway, there are few above threescore years that are not perplexed thereat, which, notwithstanding, is but an augurial terror according to that received expression, Inauspicatum dat iter oblatus lepus. And the ground of the conceit was probably no greater than this, that a fearful animal passing by us portended unto us something to be feared; as upon the like consideration, the meeting of a fox presaged some future imposture.”

Tulasi Dâs, in his Râmâyana, sums up the favourable omens:—

“On the left-hand side a blue-necked jay was picking up food, as if to announce the very highest good fortune; on a fair field on the right were a crow and a mungoose in the sight of all; a woman was seen with a pitcher and a child; a fox showed himself winding about; and in front a cow was suckling its calf; a herd of deer came out on the right; a Brâhmanî kite promised all success; also a Syâma bird perched on a tree to the left; a man was met bearing curds, and two learned Brâhmans with books in their hands.”[133]

The face of a Teli or oilman, perhaps from the dirt which accompanies his business, is about the worst which can be seen in the early morning; but, with the curious inconsistency which crops up everywhere in phases of similar belief, that of a sweeper is lucky. His face should be always looked at first, but on meeting a Brâhman, the glance should start from his feet.

The Thags, like all criminal tribes of the present day, were great believers in what Dr. Tylor calls Angang or meeting omens.[134] With them, if a wolf crossed the path from right to left it was considered a bad omen; if from right to left the import was uncertain. The call of the wolf was considered ominous; if heard during the day, the gang had immediately to leave the neighbourhood. The same idea attached to a crow sitting silent on a tree, which is curiously in contradistinction to the Roman belief—Saepe sinistra cavâ praedixit ab ilice cornix. It was also considered very unlucky if a member of the gang had his turban knocked off by accidentally touching a branch.

The jungle tribes have a strong belief in such omens. The Korwas of Mirzapur abandon a journey if a jackal cross the road from the left, or if a little bird, known as the Suiya or small parrot, calls in the same direction. The Patâris and Majhwârs return if the Nîlgâê cross the road from the right.

All natives have more or less the same feeling, and scientific treatises have been written on the subject. Mentioning a monkey in the morning brings starvation for the rest of the day; though looking on its face is considered lucky. Hence monkeys are commonly tied in stables to protect horses, and an old adage says that “the evil of the stable is on the monkey’s head.” So, in Morocco the wealthy Moors keep a wild boar in their stables, in order that the Jinn and evil spirits may be diverted from the horses and enter into the boar.[135] For the same reason an English groom is fond of keeping a cat near his horses.

If a dog flaps its ears and shakes its head while any business is going on, disaster is sure to follow, and people careful in such matters will stop the work if they can. The baying of a dog indicates death and misfortune, an idea common in British folk-lore.[136]

The time when screech-owls cry and lean dogs howl,

And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves.

Even the little house lizard is, like his kinsfolk, the “murdering basilisks, their softest touch as smart as lizard’s stings,” considered by the Bengâlis very unlucky, and when they hear its twittering they postpone a journey.[137]

The hare is always a bad omen. He is a god among the Kalmucs, who call him Sakya Muni, or the Buddha, and say that on earth he allowed himself to be eaten by a starving man, for which gracious act he was raised to domineer over the moon, where they profess to see him. There are traces of the same idea in Upper India.[138] The sites of many cities are said to have been founded where a hare crossed the path of the first settler. The hare is detested by the agricultural and fishing population of the Hebrides, and it is one of the ordinary disguises of the witch in European folk-lore.[139]

Black is, of course, unlucky, and if a man, when digging the foundations of a new house, turns up a piece of charcoal, it is advisable to change the site.

Owls are naturally of evil omen. Even the stout-hearted Zâlim Sinh, the famous regent of Kota, abandoned his house because an owl hooted on the roof.[140] The hooting of the owl is a sign that the bird means to leave the place, and wise people would do well to follow his example. One kind of owl, the Raghui Chiraiya, learns people’s names, and if any one by chance answer his call he is sure to die.

To see a Dhobi, or washerman, who is associated with foul raiment, is exceedingly dangerous. I once had a bearer who was sadly afflicted because on tour he had to sleep in the same tent with a Dhobi. The old man was constantly bruising his shins over the ropes and pegs, because he was in the habit of stumbling out before dawn with his hands pressed over his eyes to protect himself from the sight of his ill-omened companion.

A one-eyed man is, as we have already said, very unlucky. When Jaswant Râo Holkar lost one of his eyes, he said, “I was before bad enough; but now I shall be the Guru, or preceptor, of rogues.”[141] I once had an office clerk afflicted in this way, and his colleagues refused to sit in the same room with him, because their accounts always went wrong when he looked in their direction. When it was impossible to provide any other accommodation for him, they insisted that he should cover the obnoxious organ with a handkerchief when he had to work in their neighbourhood.

One of the last of the Anglo-Indians, who had become thoroughly orientalized, used to insist on his valet, when he came to wake him, holding in his hand a tray containing some milk and a gold coin, so that his first glance on waking might fall on these lucky articles.

Numbers.

There are mystic qualities attached to numbers. Thus, when Hindus have removed the ashes from a burning ground they write the figures 49 on the spot where the corpse was cremated. The Pandits explain this by saying that when written in Hindi the figures resemble the conch-shell and wheel of Vishnu, or that it is an invocation to the forty-nine winds of heaven to come and purify the ground. It is more probably based on the idea that the number seven, as is the case all over the world, has some mystic application. So in the folk-tales the number three has a special application to the tests of the hero who endures the assaults of demons or witches for three successive nights. The idea of luck in odd numbers is universal, and the seventh son of a seventh son is gifted with powers of healing.

Bodily Functions.

The functions of the body supply many omens. Thus, in Somadeva we read: “My right eye throbbed frequently, as if with joy, and told me that it was none other than she.”[142]

“When our cheek burns, or ear tingles, we usually say some one is talking of us,” writes Sir Thomas Brown, “a conceit of great antiquity, and ranked among superstitious opinions by Pliny. He supposes it to have proceeded from the notion of a signifying Genius, or Universal Mercury, that conducted sounds to their distant subjects, and taught to hear by touch.” The number of beliefs of this class is infinite and recorded in numerous popular handbooks.

Lucky and Unlucky Days.

So, there are days which are lucky and unlucky. A Persian couplet lays down that one should not go east on Saturday and Monday; west on Friday and Sunday; north on Tuesday and Wednesday; south on Thursday. Even Lord Burghley advised his son to be cautious as regards the first Monday in April, when Cain was born and Abel slain; the second Monday in August, when Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed; the last Monday in December, which was the birthday of Judas. Akbar laid down that the clothes which came into his wardrobe on the first day of the month Farwardîn were unlucky.[143] The way some people get over omens of this kind is to send some article ahead of the traveller on the unlucky day, which absorbs the ill omen, which would otherwise have fallen upon him.

The catalogue of superstitions of this class might be almost indefinitely extended. The principles on which most of them depend are clear enough. They rest on a sort of sympathetic magic. Things which are good-looking, people who are healthy or prosperous, give favourable omens, while those that are ugly, or of low caste, or associated with menial or unpleasant duties, and so on, are ominous. Europeans in India usually quite fail to realize the influence which such ideas exercise over the minds of the people. Most of us have been struck by the almost unaccountable failure of natives to attend a summons from the Courts, to keep an appointment to meet a European officer for the inspection of a school or market. If inquiries are made it will often be found that some idea of this kind explains the matter.

Thus, Colonel Tod describes how he had a visit from Mânik Chand. “He looked very disconsolate and explained that he had seven times left his tent and as often turned back, the bird of omen having each time passed him on the adverse side; but that at length he had determined to disregard it, as having forfeited confidence he was indifferent to the future.”[144]

The same idea of good or evil omen attaches to many places and persons. “Nolai was built by Râja Nol. Its modern appellation of Barnagar has its origin in a strange, vulgar superstition of names of ill omen, which must not be pronounced before the morning meal. The city is called either Nolai or Barnagar, according to the hour at which the mention becomes necessary.”[145] So with the town of Jammu in Kashmîr, which is unlucky from its association with Yama, the god of death; with Talwâra in the Hoshyârpur District, which is connected with the sword (talwâr); with Rohtak, which should be called Rustajgarh, and with numerous other places in Northern India. Thus, if people want to speak of Bulandshahr in the morning they call it by the old Hindi name of Unchgânw; Bhongânw in Mainpuri they call Pachkosa; Nânauta in Sahâranpur, Phûtashahr; Mandwa in Fatehpur, Rotiwâla, and so on.[146]

So, there is hardly a village in which it is not considered ominous to name before breakfast some one who, from his misery, rascality, or some other reason, is considered unlucky. In Mathura there is a tank built by Râja Patni Mall.

“Should a stranger visit it in the morning and inquire of any Hindu by whom it was constructed, he will have considerable difficulty in eliciting a straightforward answer. The Râja, it is said, was of such a delicate constitution that he could never at any time take more than a few morsels of the simplest food; hence arises the belief that any one who mentions him the first thing in the morning will, like him, have to pass the day fasting.”[147] When we wonder at people suffering bondage of this kind, we must not forget that similar beliefs prevail in our own country. “In Buckie there are certain family names which no fisherman will pronounce. The ban lies particularly heavy on Ross. Coull also bears it, but not to such a degree. The folks of that village talk of spitting out the bad name.”[148]

A similar euphemistic form of expression is often used in regard to animals. If you are civil and do not abuse the house rats, they will not damage your goods.[149]

The Mirzapur Patâris when they have to mention a monkey in the morning, call him Hanumân, and the bear Jatari, or “he with the long hair,” or Dîmkhauiya, “he that eats white ants.” The Pankas call the camel Lambghîncha or “long-necked.” “I asked the Râja,” says Gen. Sleeman, “whether we were likely to fall in with any hares, making use of the term Khargosh, or ‘ass-eared.’” “Certainly not,” said the Râja, “if you begin by abusing them by such a name. Call them Lambkanna or ‘long-eared,’ and you will get plenty.”

It is, of course, easy to avoid the effect of evil omens by the use of a little tact and wit, as was the case with William the Conqueror, and there are many natives who are noted for their cleverness in this way. Of an Eastern Sultân it is told that, leaving his palace on a warlike expedition, his standard touched a cluster of lamps, called Surayya, because they resembled the Pleiades. He would have turned back, but one of his officers said, “My Lord! our standard has reached the Pleiades;” so he was relieved, advanced, and was victorious.

Facilitating Departure of and Barring the Ghost.

We now come to consider the various means adopted to facilitate the journey of the departing soul, and to prevent it from returning as a malignant ghost to bring trouble, disease, or death on the survivors.

First comes the custom of placing the dying man on the ground at the moment of dissolution. This is done partly, as we have seen, through some feeling of the sanctity of Mother earth and that anyone resting on her bosom is safe from demoniacal agency, and partly that the spirit may meet with no obstruction in its passage through the air. This last idea prevails very generally. Thus, in Great Britain, death is believed to be retarded and the dying person kept in a state of suffering by having any lock closed or any bolt shut in the dwelling.[150]

The tortures which the soul undergoes in its journey to the land of the dead are vividly pictured in some of the sacred writings.[151] He is scorched by heat and pierced by wind and cold, attacked by beasts of prey, stumbling through thorns and filth, until he at last reaches the dread river Vaitaranî, which rolls its flood of abominations between him and the other shore. So, when a Hindu dies, a lamp made of flour is placed in his hands to light his ghost to the realm of Yama. Devout people believe that the spirit takes three hundred and sixty days to accomplish the journey, so an offering of that number of lamps is made. In order, also, to help him on his way, they feed a Brâhman every day for a year; if the deceased was a woman, a Brâhmanî is fed. The lamps are lighted facing the south, and this is the only occasion on which this is done, because the south is the realm of death, and no one will sleep or have their house door opening towards that ill-omened quarter of the sky.

With the same intention of aiding the spirit on his way, the relations howl during the funeral rites, like the keeners at an Irish wake, in order to scare the evil spirits who would obstruct the passage of the soul to its final rest.[152]

Another plan is to carry out the corpse by a special way, which is then barred up, so that it may not be able to find its way back. The same end is attained by carrying out the corpse feet foremost. Thus Marco Polo writes: “Sometimes their sorcerers shall tell them that it is not good luck to carry the corpse out by the door, so they have to break a hole in the wall, and to draw it out that way when it is taken to the burning.” It is needless to say that the same custom prevails in Great Britain.[153] The Banjâras of Khândesh reverse the process. They move their huts after a death, and make a special entrance instead of the ordinary door, which is supposed to be polluted by the passage of the spirit of the dead.[154] A somewhat similar custom prevails among the Maghs of Bengal. When the friends return from the cremation ground, if it is the master of the house who has died, the ladder leading up to the house is thrown down, and they must effect an entrance by cutting a hole in the back wall and so creeping up.[155] The theory appears to be that the evil spirits who were on the watch for the ghost may be lurking near the route by which the corpse was removed. We have the same idea in the European custom of saluting a corpse which is being carried past. Grose distinctly states that the homage was really offered to the attendant evil spirits.[156] So, the Birhors of Bengal, on the sixth day after birth, take the child out of the house by an opening made in the wall, so as to evade the evil spirit on the watch at the door.[157]

The most elaborate precautions are, however, devoted to barring out the ghost and preventing its return to its former home. The first of these consist of rules to prevent the breach of the curiosity taboo. All through folk-lore we have instances of the danger of looking back, as in the case of Lot’s wife. One of the maxims of Pythagoras was: “On setting out on a journey, do not return back; for if you do the fairies will catch you.”[158] In one of the Kashmîr tales the youth is warned not to look back, otherwise he would be changed into a pillar of stone.[159] In one of the Italian spells the officiant is told: “Spit behind you thrice and look not behind you.”[160] In an Indian tale the god promises to help the Brâhman and to follow him. The Brâhman looks back and the deity becomes a stone.[161] The danger of looking back is that the person’s soul may be detained among the ghosts of the dead. This is the reason why Hindu mourners do not look back when they are returning from the cremation ground, and so we find that in Naxos it is a rule that none of the women who follow the bier must look back, for if she do she will die on the spot, or else one of her relations will die.[162]

Another means is to bar the return of the ghost in a physical way. Thus, when the Aheriyas of the North-Western Provinces burn the corpse, they fling pebbles in the direction of the pyre to prevent the spirit accompanying them. In the Himâlayas, when a man has attended the funeral ceremonies of a relative, he takes a piece of the shroud worn by the deceased and hangs it on some tree in the cremation ground, as an offering to the spirits which frequent such places. On his return, he places a thorny bush on the road wherever it is crossed by another path, and the nearest male relative of the deceased, on seeing this, puts a stone on it, and pressing it down with his feet, prays the spirit of the dead man not to trouble him.[163] Among the Bengal Limbus, the Phedangma attends the funeral, and delivers a brief address to the departed spirit on the general doom of mankind and the succession of life and death, concluding with the command to go where his fathers have gone, and not to come back to trouble the living with dreams.[164]

Practically the same custom still prevails in Ireland. When a corpse is carried to the grave, it is the rule for the bearers to stop half-way while the nearest relatives build up a small monument of loose stones, and no hand would dare to disturb this monument while the world lasts.[165]

In the case of the Dhângars and Basors, both menial tribes in the North-Western Provinces, we come across an usage which appears to be of a very primitive type and to be intended to secure the same object of barring the return of the ghost. After they have buried the corpse they return to the house of the dead man, kill a hog, and after separating the limbs, which are cooked for the funeral feast, they bury the trunk in the courtyard of the house, making an invocation to it as the representative of the dead man, and ordering him to rest there in peace and not worry his descendants. In the grave in which they bury this they pile stones and thorns to keep the ghost down.

Many other mourning customs appear to be based on the same principle. Thus, the old ritual directs that all who return from a funeral must touch the Lingam, fire, cowdung, a grain of barley, a grain of sesame and water—“all,” as Professor De Gubernatis says, “symbols of that fecundity which the contact with a corpse might have destroyed.”[166] The real motive is doubtless to get rid of the ghost, which may have accompanied the mourners from the cremation ground. In Borneo rice is sprinkled over them with the same object, and the Basutos who have carried a corpse to the grave have their hands scratched with a knife and magic stuff is rubbed into the wound to remove the ghost which may be adhering to them.[167]

In Upper India, among the lower Hindu castes, when the mourners return after the ceremony, they bathe, water being a scarer of ghosts, and at the house door they touch a stone, cowdung, iron, fire, and water, which have been placed outside the house in readiness when the corpse was removed. They then touch each their left ears with the little finger of the left hand, chew leaves of the bitter Nîm tree as a sign of mourning, and, after sitting some time in silence, disperse. Others, as the Ghasiyas, pass their feet through the smoke of burning oil, and others merely rub their feet with oil to drive away the ghost. The same idea of barring the return of the ghost by means of fire is found among the Nats of Kâthiâwâr, who burn hay on the face of the corpse before cremating it, and among the Thoris, who brand the great toe of the right foot of the deceased.[168]

This sitting in silence after the funeral is commonly explained merely as a mark of sympathy for the bereaved relatives, but an analogous custom in Ireland leads to the inference that the real reason may be to give the ghost time to depart, and not to interrupt in any way its progress to the spirit land. On the west coast of Ireland, after the death no wail is allowed to be raised until three hours have elapsed, because the sound of the crying would hinder the soul from speaking to God when it stands before Him, and would waken up the great dogs that are watching for the souls of the dead to devour them.[169]

We have in these rites and in the ordinary ritual some further illustrations of the protective influence of various articles which scare evil spirits. Thus, after the cremation the officiating Brâhman touches fire and bathes in order to purify himself and bar the return of the ghost; and the relative who lights the funeral pyre keeps a piece of iron with him, and goes about with a brass drinking vessel in his hand as a preservative against evil spirits while the period of mourning lasts. The system of protection is exactly the same as in the case of the young mother and her child during the period of impurity consequent on parturition. As the Hedley Kow, the North British goblin, is peculiarly obnoxious at childbirth, so the Râkshasî of Indian folk-lore carries off the baby if the suitable precautions to repel her are neglected.[170]

Another method of barring the ghost is to bury the dead face downwards. This is common among sweepers of Upper India, whose ghosts, as seen in the probable connection of the Chûhra and the Churel, are always malignant. The same custom prevails among the Châran Banjâras of Khândesh. With this may be contrasted the Irish custom of loosening the nails of the coffin before interment, in order to facilitate the passage of the soul to heaven.[171]

A more elaborate ritual is that performed by the Mangars of Bengal. “One of the maternal relatives of the deceased, usually the maternal uncle, is chosen to act as priest for the occasion, and to conduct the ritual for the propitiation of the dead. First of all he puts in the mouth of the corpse some silver coins and some coral, which is much prized by the Himâlayan races. Then he lights a wick soaked in clarified butter, touches the lips with fire, scatters some parched rice about the mouth, and, lastly, covers the face with a cloth. Two bits of wood about three feet long are set up on either side of the grave. In the one are cut nine steps or notches, forming a ladder for the spirit of the dead to ascend to heaven; on the other every one present at the funeral cuts a notch to show that he has been there. As the maternal uncle steps out of the grave, he bids a solemn farewell to the dead and calls upon him to ascend to heaven by the ladder prepared for him. When the earth has been filled in, the stick notched by the funeral party is taken away to a distance and broken in two pieces, lest by its means the dead man should do the survivors a mischief. The pole used to carry the corpse is also broken up, and the spades and ropes are left in the grave.”[172]

Among other devices to bar the return of the spirit may be noted the custom after a death in the family of preparing a resting-place for the ghost, until on the completion of the prescribed funeral rites it is admitted to the company of the sainted dead. Thus, among high-caste Hindus a jar of water is hung on a Pîpal tree for the refreshment of the spirit. The lower castes practise a more elaborate ritual. When the obsequies are completed they plant by the bank of a tank a bunch of grass, which the chief mourners daily water until the funeral rites are over. In Bombay Mr. Campbell writes:[173] “With a few exceptions generally among almost all classes of Hindus, when the dead is carried to the burning ground, on nearing the cemetery, a small stone is picked up and applied to the eyes, chest, and feet of the deceased. This stone is called Jivkhâda or the spirit stone, is considered as the representative or type of the deceased, and offerings of milk and water are given to it for ten days.” Further he says: “On nearing the burning ground a small stone is picked up, and with it the feet, nose, and chest of the deceased are touched thrice. This stone is called Ashma, and is considered as a type of the deceased, and to it funeral oblations are offered for ten days. The bier is then put down, and a ceremony called Visrânti Srâddha is performed by the chief mourner, who comes forward and offers two balls of rice, called Bhût or ‘spirit,’ and Khechar, or ‘roamer in the sky,’ to the deceased. A hole is dug and the balls are buried there, and the litter is raised again on shoulders by four persons and carried to the cemetery.”

The same idea of barring the return of the ghost accounts for the tombstone and cairn. British evil spirits have been secured in this way. Mr. Henderson tells of a vicious spirit which was entombed under a large stone for the space of ninety years and a day. Should any luckless person sit on that stone, he would be unable to leave it for ever.[174] In India, when a Ho or Munda dies, a very substantial coffin is constructed and placed on faggots of brushwood. The body, carefully washed and anointed with oil, is reverently laid in this coffin, and all the clothes, ornaments, and agricultural implements that the deceased was in the habit of using are placed with it, and also any money that he had with him when he died. Then the lid of the coffin is put on and the whole is burned. The bones are collected, taken in procession to the houses of friends, and every place where the deceased was in the habit of visiting. They are finally buried under a large slab, and a megalithic monument is erected to the memory of the dead. A quantity of rice is thrown into the grave with other food.[175]

This custom of parading the corpse also prevails in Ireland.

“I believe it is the custom in most, if not all, small towns in the south for a body to be carried, on its way to the graveyard, round the town by the longest way to bid its last farewell to the place. If the body be that of a murdered man, it is, if possible, carried past the house of the murderer. In county Wicklow, if an old church lies on the way to the grave, the body is borne round it three times.”[176]

The Korkus of Hoshangâbâd have a remarkable method of laying the ghost. “Each clan has a place in which the funeral rite of every member of that clan must be performed; and however far the Korku may have wandered from the original centre of his tribe, he must return there to set his father’s spirit to rest, and enable it to join its own family and ancestral ghosts. In this spot a separate stake (munda) is set up for every one whose rites are separately performed, and if a poor Korku performs them for several ancestors at once, he still puts up only one stake. It stands two or two and a half feet above the ground, planed smooth and squared at the top; on one side is carved at the top the likeness of the sun and moon, a spider, and a wheat ear, and below it a figure representing the principal person in whose honour it is put up, on horseback, with weapons in his hands. If more than one person’s death is being celebrated, the rest are carved below as subordinate figures. I could not learn that the spirits are supposed to specially haunt this grove of stakes, or that Korkus have any dread of going near it at night; but they are far bolder than Hindus in this respect. When the funeral rite is to be performed, the first thing is to cut a bamboo and take out the pith, which is to represent the bones of the deceased, unless he has been burnt, in which case the bones themselves will have been preserved. A chicken is then sacrificed at the grave, and all that night the mourners watch and dance, and sing and make merry.

“Next day they go out very early, and cut down some perfectly unblemished tree, either teak or Salâi, not hollow or decayed or marked with an axe, which they cut to make the Munda stake. It is brought home at once and fashioned by a skilful man. In the afternoon it is carried to the place where cattle rest outside the village at noontide, and is washed and covered with turmeric like a bridegroom, and five chickens are sacrificed to it. It is then brought home again, and the pith representing the bones is taken outside the village and hung to some tree for safety during the night.” (The idea, as we have elsewhere seen, is more probably to allow the ghost an opportunity of revisiting them.)

“All the friends and relations have by this time assembled, and this evening the chief funeral dinner is given. Next day, the whole party set out for the place where the stakes of their clan are set up, and after digging a hole and putting two copper coins in it, and the bones of the deceased or the pith which represents them, they put the stake in and fix it upright. Then they offer a goat or chickens to it, which are presently eaten close by, and in the evening the whole party returns home.”[177]

All this ritual, carried out by one of the most primitive Indian tribes, admirably illustrates the principles which we have been discussing. The obvious intention of the custom is to provide a resting-place for the spirit of the dead man, so that it may no longer be a source of danger to the survivors.

Similar customs prevail among other aboriginal races of the Central Provinces. In some places they burn their dead and then erect platforms, at the corners of which they place tall, red stones. In other places a sort of low square mound is raised over the remains of the deceased, at the corners of which are erected wooden posts, round which thread is wound to complete the sacred circle, and a stone is set up in the centre. Here offerings are presented, as in the jungle worship of their deities, of rice and other grains, fowls or sheep. On one occasion after the establishment of the Bhonsla or Marhâta Government in Gondwâna a cow was offered to the manes of a Gond; but this having come to the notice of the authorities, the relations were publicly whipped, and all were interdicted from doing such an act again.

To persons of more than usual reputation for sanctity offerings continue to be presented for many years after their decease. In the District of Bhandâra rude collections of coarse earthenware in the form of horses may be seen, which have accumulated from year to year on the tombs of such men.[178] The Pauariyas of Chota Nâgpur bury their dead, except the bodies of their priests, which are carried on a cot into the forests covered with leaves and branches and kept there, the reason assigned being that if laid in the village cemetery their ghosts become very troublesome. The bodies of people who die of contagious disease are similarly disposed of, the fact of death in this way being supposed to be the direct act of one of the deities who govern plagues.[179]

In a country where immediate burial or cremation is necessary and habitual, we need not expect to meet many examples of the customs, of which Mr. H. Spencer gives examples,[180] of placing the body on a platform or the like in order to secure its personal comfort and conciliate the spirit. With the object of keeping a place ready for the spirit, some tribes are careful to preserve the body. The Singpoo of the north-eastern frontier keep the bodies of their dead chiefs for several years, and the Kûkis dry the dead at a slow fire,[181] practices which among more civilized races rise to embalming, as among the Chinese and Egyptians. The Thârus of the sub-Himâlayan Tarâî have a custom of placing the corpse on the village fetish mound during the night after death, and then the mourning goes on. The practice is perhaps intended as much to prevent, by the sanctity of the spot on which it is placed, the spirit from harming the survivors, as from any special desire to conciliate it. Among all Hindus, of course, as far as exigencies of the rapid disposal of the remains allow, it is habitual to treat the dead with respect; corpses are carefully covered with red cloth, and removed reverently for burial or cremation.

There is also among some tribes the custom of disinterring corpses after temporary burial. Thus, the Bhotiyas of the Himâlayas burn their dead only in the month of Kârttik; those who die in the meantime are temporarily buried and disinterred when the season for cremation arrives. The Kathkâris, a jungle tribe in Bombay, dig up the corpse some time after burial and hold a wake over the ghastly relics. They appear to do this only in the case of persons dying of cholera or small-pox, with some idea of appeasing the deity of disease. In parts of Oudh the custom is said still to prevail among the lower castes during epidemics, and it has recently attracted the attention of the sanitary officers.[182]

The Funeral Feast.

The funeral feast is evidently a survival of the feast when the dead kinsman was consumed by his relatives, who wished thus to partake of the properties of the dead. By another theory the feasting of the mourners is intended to resist the attempt of the ghost of the dead man to enter their bodies, food being offensive to spirits.

Mutilation a Sign of Mourning.

Perhaps the only distinct survival of the ceremonial mutilation so common among savages as a sign of mourning, is the shaving which is compulsory on all the clansmen who shared in the death pollution. In the Odyssey, at the death of Antilochus, Peisistratus says, “This is now the only due we pay to miserable men, to cut the hair and let the tear fall from the cheek,” and at the burial rites of Patroklus “they heaped all the corpse with their hair which they cut off and threw thereon.” The cutting of the hair is always a serious matter. “Amongst the Maoris many spells were uttered at hair-cutting; one, for example, was spoken to consecrate the obsidian knife with which the hair was cut; another was pronounced to avert the thunder and lightning which hair-cutting was believed to cause.”[183] This ceremonial shaving is also perhaps the only survival in Northern India of puberty initiation ceremonies. In some cases the hair cut appears to be regarded as a sacrifice. Thus between the ages of two and five the Bhîls shave the heads of their children. The child’s aunt takes the hair in her lap, and wrapping it in her clothes, receives a cow, buffalo, or other present from the child’s parent.[184]

Respect Paid to Hair.

All over the world the hair is invested with particular sanctity as embodying the strength of the owner, as in the Samson-Delilah story. Vishnu, according to the old story, took two hairs, a white and a black one, and these became Balarâma and Krishna. Many charms are worked through hair, and if a witch gets possession of it she can work evil to the owner. An Italian charm directs, “When you enter any city, collect before the gate as many hairs as you will which may lie on the road, saying to yourself that you do this to remove your headache, and bind one of the hairs to your head.”[185] The strength of Nisus lay in his golden hair, and when it was pulled out he was killed by Minos. It is this power of hair which possibly accounts for its preservation as a relic of the dead in lockets and bracelets, or, as Mr. Hartland shows, the idea at the root of these practices is that of sacramental communion with the dead.[186]

We have already come across instances of growing hair as a curse. Mr. Frazer gives numerous examples of this custom among savage races, and in the Teutonic mythology the avenger of Baldur will not cut his hair until he has killed his enemy.

In the folk-tales hair is a powerful deus ex machinâ, human hair for choice, but any kind will answer the purpose. It is one of the most common incidents that the hero recognizes the heroine by a lock of her hair which floats down the stream.[187]

A curious instance of mutilation regarded as a charm may be quoted from Bengal. Should a woman give birth to several stillborn children, in succession, the popular belief is that the same child reappears on each occasion. So, to frustrate the designs of the evil spirit that has taken possession of the child, the nose or a portion of the ear is cut off and the body is cast on a dunghill.

Food for the Dead.

Another means for conciliating the spirit of the dead man is to lay up food for its use.[188] This is intended partly as provision for the ghost in its journey to the other world. But in some cases it would seem that there is a different basis for the custom. As we have seen, it is dangerous to eat the food of fairy-land, and unless food is supplied to the wandering ghost, it may be obliged to eat the food of the lower world and hence be unable to return to the world of men. According to the ancient Indian ritual it was recommended to put into the hands of the dead man the reins of the animal killed in the funeral sacrifice, or in default of an animal victim at least two cakes of rice or flour, so that he may throw them to the dogs of Yama, which would otherwise bar his passage,[189] and the same idea constantly appears in the folk-tales where the hero takes some food with him which he flings to the fierce beasts which prevent him from gaining the water of life or whatever may have been the test imposed upon him. The use of pulse in the funeral rites depends upon the same principle, and in the Greek belief the dead carried vegetables with them to hell, either to win the right of passage or as provisions for the road.

Articles left with the Corpse.

Hence too comes the practice of burning with the corpse the articles which the dead man was in the habit of using. They rise with the fumes of the pyre and solace him in the world of spirits. The Kos told Colonel Dalton that the reason of this was that they were unwilling to derive any immediate benefit by the death of a member of the family. Hence they burn his wearing apparel and personal effects, but they do not destroy clothes and other things which have not been worn. For this reason, old men of the tribe, in a spirit of careful economy, avoid wearing new clothes, so that they may not be wasted at the funeral.[190]

The custom of laying out food for the ghost still prevails in Ireland, where it is a very prevalent practice during some nights after death to leave food outside the house, a griddle cake or a dish of potatoes. If it is gone in the morning, the spirits must have taken it, for no human being would touch the food left for the dead, as it might compel him to join their company. On November Eve food is laid out in the same way.[191]

There are numerous examples of similar practices in India. The Mhârs of Khândesh, when they remove a corpse, put in its mouth a Pân leaf with a gold bead from his wife’s necklace. At the grave the brother or son of the dead man wets the end of his turban and drops a little water on the lips of the corpse.[192] So the Greeks used to put a coin in the dead man’s mouth to enable him to pay his fare to Charon. In the Panjâb it is a common practice to put in the mouth of the corpse the Pancharatana or five kinds of jewels, gold, silver, copper, coral, and pewter. The leaves of the Tulasi or sweet basil and Ganges water are put into the mouth of a dying man, and the former into the ears and nostrils also. They are said to be offerings to Yama, the god of death, who on receiving them shows mercy to the soul of the deceased. The same customs generally prevail among the Hindus of Northern India.

Among the Buddhists of the Himâlaya, Moorcroft was present at the consecration of the food of the dead.[193] The Lâma consecrated barley and water and poured them from a silver saucer into a brass vessel, occasionally striking two brass cymbals together, reciting or chanting prayers, to which from time to time an inferior Lâma uttered responses aloud, accompanied by the rest in an undertone. This was intended for the use of the souls in hell, who would starve were it not provided. The music and singing, if we may apply the analogy of Indian practices, are intended to scare the vagrant ghosts, who would otherwise consume or defile the food.

The same is the case among the Drâvidian races. Thus, the Bhuiyârs of Mirzapur after the funeral feast throw a cupful of oil and some food into the water hole in which the ashes of the dead man are deposited. They say that he will never be hungry or want oil to anoint himself after bathing. The Korwas, when burning a corpse, place with it the ornaments and clothes of the deceased, and an axe, which they do not break, as is the habit of many other savages. They say that the spirit of the dead man will want it to hack his way through the jungles of the lower world. When the Bhuiyârs cremate a corpse they throw near the spot an axe, if the deceased was a man, and a Khurpi or weeding spud, if a woman. No one would dare to appropriate such things, as he would be forced to join the ghastly company of their owners. Where the corpse is burned they leave a platter made of leaves containing a little boiled rice, and they sprinkle on the ground all the ordinary kinds of grain and some turmeric and salt as food for the dead in the next world.

All these tribes and many low-caste Hindus in Northern India lay out platters of food under the eaves of the house during the period of mourning, and they ascertain by peculiar marks which they examine next day whether the spirit has partaken of the food or not. Among the jungle tribes there is a rule that the food for the dead is prepared, not by the house-mother, but by the senior daughter-in-law, and even if incapacitated by illness from performing this duty, she is bound at least to commence the work by cooking one or two cakes, the rest being prepared by one of the junior women of the family.

Among the more Hinduized Majhwârs and Patâris we reach the stage where the clothes, implements of the deceased, and some food are given to the Patâri priest, who, by vicariously consuming them, lays up a store for the use of the dead man in the other world. This is the principle on which food and other articles are given to the Mahâbrâhman or ordinary Hindu funeral priest at the close of the period of mourning.

Among the Bengal tribes, the Mâl Pahariyas pour the blood of goats and fowls on their ancestral memorial pillars that the souls may not hunger in the world of the dead. Among the Bhûmij, at the funeral ceremony, an outsider, who is often a Laiya or priest, comes forward to personate the deceased, by whose name he is addressed, and asked what he wants to eat. Acting thus as the dead man’s proxy, he mentions various articles of food, which are placed before him. After making a regular meal, he goes away, and the spirit of the deceased is believed to go with him. So among the Kolis of the Konkan, the dead man’s soul is brought back into one of the mourners. Among the Vârlis of Thâna, on the twelfth day after death, a dinner is given to the nearest relations, and during the night the spirit of the dead enters into one of the relations, who entertains the rest with the story of some event in the dead man’s life. Among the Santâls, one of the mourners drums by the ashes of the dead, and the spirit enters the body, when the mourner shaves, bathes, eats a cock, and drinks some liquor.[194]

Among the Bengal Chakmas, a bamboo post or other portion of a dead man’s house is burned with him, probably in order to provide him with shelter in the next world. Among the Kâmis, before they can partake of the funeral feast, a small portion of every dish must be placed in a leaf plate and taken out into the jungle for the spirit of the dead man, and carefully watched until a fly or other insect settles upon it. The watcher then covers up the plate with a slab of stone, eats his own food, and returns to tell the relatives that the spirit has received the offering prepared for him.

The Fly as a Life Index.

The fly here represents the spirit, an idea very common in folk-lore, where an insect often appears as the Life Index. An English lady has been known in India to stop playing lawn-tennis because a butterfly settled in the court. In Cornwall wandering spirits take the form of moths, ants, and weasels.[195] We have the same idea in Titus Andronicus, when Marcus, having been rebuked for killing a fly, gives as his reason,—

“It was a black, ill-favoured fly,

Like to the empress Moor; therefore I kill’d him.”

A fly is the guardian spirit of St. Michael’s well in Banff.[196]

Recalling the Ghost.

But while it is expedient by some or other of these devices to bar or lay the ghost, or prevent its return by providing for its journey to, and accommodation in the next world, some tribes have a custom of making arrangements to bring back the soul of the deceased to the family abode, where he is worshipped as a household spirit. Some of the Central Indian tribes catch the spirit re-embodied in a fowl or fish, some bring it home in a pot of water or flour.[197] Among the Tipperas of Bengal, when a man dies in a strange village separated from his home by the river, they stretch a white string from bank to bank along which the spirit is believed to return.[198] This illustrates an idea common to all folk-lore that the ghost cannot cross running water without material assistance. Among the Hos on the evening of the cremation day certain preparations are made in anticipation of a visit from the ghost. Some boiled rice is laid apart for it, and ashes are sprinkled on the floor, in order that, should it come, its footsteps may be detected. On returning they carefully scrutinize the ashes and the rice, and if there is the faintest indication of these having been disturbed, it is attributed to the action of the spirit, and they sit down shivering with horror and crying bitterly, as if they were by no means pleased with the visit, though it be made at their earnest solicitation.[199]

Ashes.

This use of ashes as a means of identifying the ghost, constitutes in itself quite an important chapter in folk-lore. It reminds us of the Apocryphal legend of Bel and the Dragon. The idea probably originally arose from the respect paid to the ashes of the house fire by primitive races, among whom the hearth and the kitchen are the home of the household godlings.

There are numerous instances of this practice from Europe. In the Western Islands of Scotland on Candlemas Day the mistress takes a sheaf of oats, dresses it in woman’s apparel, and after putting it in a large basket beside which a wooden club is placed, cries three times, “Briid is come! Briid is welcome!” Next morning they look for the impression of Briid’s club in the ashes, which is an omen of a good harvest.[200] Ash-riddling is a custom in the northern counties. The ashes being riddled or sifted on the hearth, if any one of the family be to die within the year, the mark of a shoe will be impressed upon the ashes.[201] In Wales they make a bonfire, and when it is extinguished each one throws a white stone into the ashes. In the morning they search out the stones, and if any one is found wanting, he that threw it will die within the year.[202] In Manxland the ashes are carefully swept to the open hearth and nicely flattened down by the women before they go to bed. In the morning they look for footmarks on the hearth, and if they find such footmarks directed to the door, it means in the course of the year a death in the family, and if the reverse, they expect an addition to it by marriage.[203] According to one of the Italian charms, “And they were accustomed to divine sometimes with the ashes from the sacrifices. And to this day there is a trace of it, when that which is to be divined is written on the ashes with the finger or with the stick. Then the ashes are stirred by the fresh breeze, and one looks for the letters which they form by being moved.”[204]

Amongst some Hindus, on the tenth night after the death of a person, he who fired the funeral pyre is required to sift some ashes, near which a lamp is placed, and the whole covered with a basket. Next morning the ashes are examined, and the ghost is supposed to have migrated into the animal whose mark appears on the ashes.[205] So, at the annual feast of the dead, the jungle tribes of Mirzapur spread ashes on the floor, and a mark generally like that of a chicken’s foot shows that the family ghosts have visited the house. “On New Year’s Eve,” says Aubrey, “sift or smooth the ashes and leave it so when you go to bed; next morning look, and if you find there the likeness of a coffin, one will die; if a ring, one will be married.”[206] In North Scotland, on the night after the funeral, bread and water are placed in the apartment where the body lay. The dead man was believed to return that night and partake of the food; unless this were done the spirits could not rest in the unseen world. This probably accounts for the so-called “food vases” and “drinking cups” found in the long barrows.[207] All Hindus believe that the ghosts of the dead return on the night of the Diwâlî or feast of lamps.

Replacing Household Vessels.

After a death all the household earthen pots are broken and replaced. It has been suggested that this is due either to the belief that the ghost of the dead man is in some of them, or that the custom may have some connection with the idea of providing the ghost with utensils in the next world.[208] In popular belief, however, the custom is explained by the death pollution attaching to all the family cooking vessels, which, if of metal, are purified with fire. The vessel is the home of the spirit: “At most Hindu funerals a water jar is carried round the pyre, and then dashed to the ground, apparently to show that the spirit has left its earthly home. So, the Surat Chondras set up as spirit homes large whitewashed earthen jars laid on their sides. So, to please any spirit likely to injure a crop, an earthen jar is set on a pole as the spirit’s house, and so at a wedding or other ceremonies, jars, sometimes empty, sometimes filled with water, are piled as homes for planets and other marriage gods and goddesses, that they may feel pleased and their influence be friendly.”[209]