wards to the most cherished possessions. How far this may pertain even to human sacrifices has been well stated by Trumbull himself.1 But the most striking instance of it, to my knowledge, is found in a late magical papyrus.2 Here we read: παρατίθει αὐτῷ τῷ θεῷ, scil.) ἐξ ὧν μεταλαμβάνεις βρωτῶν καὶ ποτών. And the effect of such commensality is declared to be: τελευτήσαντός σου τὸ σῶμα περιστελεῖ ὡς πρέπον θεῷ· σοῦ δὲ τὸ πνεῦμα βαστάξας εἰς ἀέρα ἄξει σὺν αὐτῷ· εἰς γὰρ "Αιδην οὐ χωρήσει ἀέριον πνεῦμα συσταθὲν κραταιῷ παρέδρῳ. πарédρw. The pledge of blood-covenanting, furthermore, involves mutual protection: this, too, is one of the features of the cult the god is not only asked, but required to help his worshippers, as they are bound not to let him starve. And the neglect of these duties involves the deepest disgrace. Here, I think, we have the origin of the queer custom, still existing among the lower classes of Roman Catholic faith, e.g. in Italy, where I myself witnessed such an occurrence, the custom of chiding and abusing the god who refuses his help. For when mere asking does not suffice to rouse the activity, then oveídŋ may awake the ire of the contracting party and recall his sense of honor.

And now to return to the analogue of sacrifice, to the prayer. It is clear that all these principles apply equally well to this. But, moreover, the idea of covenanting seems, to me at least, fully to explain what has been styled the business-like, bargain-striking feature, especially of Roman worship, but no less of Greek prayer. When Chryses, driven out from the Greek camp and running along the shore, prays to Apollon, "if ever I have roofed over for thee a pleasing temple or if ever I have offered thee sacrifices, come thou now to my help and avenge me," he decidedly reminds the god of the duties which he has taken upon himself, as it were, by contract. And the god immediately obeys. Now, this idea of reciprocity was not restricted to Greeks and Romans alone. Nowhere, perhaps, is it more forcibly expressed than in the Old Testament, which repeatedly enjoins duties upon the 1 Trumbull, see Index: sacrifices, human.

2 Papyrus mag. Berol. ed. Parthey, Abhandl. Berl. Akad. 1865, 169–70, 177 ff.

Hebrews with the distinct understanding that under these conditions God, too, will fulfil his part of the contract and not withhold his blessings. It would be utterly wrong to ascribe this "business-idea" to the mercantile spirit of the peoples concerned, in face of its almost universal occurrence. On the other hand, if we derive it from a contract by covenant shaped after human models, it is easy to explain. But I think it superfluous to heap example upon example.

One more word in conclusion. It should now be clear that neither prayer nor charm-song, on the basis of our explanation, can claim priority over each other; but that both have been derived from the common source of the "covenant-reminder." In the charm-song its obligatory side is more sharply pronounced, although, especially in the contract form, traces are still to be found in prayer. This, however, emphasizes more the voluntary side, until, with a steady moral progress, it has become purified and cleansed of all the grosser features adhering to its ancestor. Thus far the charm-song claims rightly to be the more original, and bears out the definition of superstition as religion become stark. It is a survival of an earlier stage of intercourse with the divine power. But to repeat this finally once more, I am far from seeing in this discussion the explanation and panacea. Many are the threads of the texture, and dies diem docebit-slowly we must continue to unravel them one after the other.

Aeschyl. Choeph. 959–962:

τάχα δὲ παντελὴς χρόνος ἀμείψεται

πρόθυρα δωμάτων, ὅταν ἀφ' ἑστίας
μύσος πᾶν ἐλαθῆ

καθαρμοῖσιν ἀτᾶν ἐλατηρίοις.

960

E. Rohde has admirably shown that purification is by no means a requirement of morals, but is simply meant to drive away evil spirits. The passage quoted above bears him out more clearly than any other I know, because of the words ὅταν ἀφ' ἑστίας πᾶν μύσος ἐλαθῇ καθαρμοῖσιν ἀτᾶν ἐλατηρίοις.

1 Psyche, 364 ff.

This latter expression is well explained by the scholiast, who quotes the noun formed from it: ἐλατήριον· τὸ καθαρτικὸν φάρμακον. It is noteworthy that this μύσος, which has to be driven out, has its seat at the hearth. For here the spirits of the deceased ancestors dwell, and among them as μúoos the souls of the two Bialobávaro in the family of Atreus, Agamemnon and Clytaemnestra.

Aeschyl. Suppl. 202–3:

Δα. καὶ Ζηνὸς ὄρνιν τόνδε νῦν κικλήσκετε.
Χο. καλοῦμεν αὐγὰς ἡλίου σωτηρίους.

Have we here obscure traces of a belief which considered the sun to be a bird? If opus were used here in its figurative meaning, as seer, prophet, we should simply think of the frequent identification of Helios and Apollo. But this is impossible, since in the very next two verses Apollo himself is expressly addressed. The scholiast must have had in mind. an explanation similar to mine. He writes as follows: Tòv ἥλιον· ἐξανίστησι γὰρ ἡμᾶς ὡς ὁ ἀλεκτρυών. However, he seems to be mistaken as to the character of the bird. For surely, everybody, in hearing of the bird of Zeus, would first of all think of the god's faithful companion, the eagle. Such a view, I think, cannot have been strange to the Greek mind. Surely we are past the time when it was a sacrilege to speak of animal worship among the Greeks. The numerous animals, under the disguise of which demons were wont to appear,1 the general worship bestowed upon the snake,2 ought to convince even those whom neither Cook 3 nor Milchhoefer1 has as yet taught the truth. Nor will the student of FolkLore look askance at this explanation. For to him many examples of similar "incarnations" are known.5 But an

1 Cp. Bienkowski, Eranos Vindobonensis, 295.

2 See Furtwängler, La Collection Sabouroff, introduction; E. Rohde, Psyche, index.

8 Journ. Hell. Stud. 1894, 81 ff.

4 Anfaenge der Kunst. 54 ff.

5 E.g. Andrew Lang, Custom and Myth, 84 ff.; bird and sun connected also in the Slavic Baruch-book: Gött. Gel. Anz. 1896, 98.

authority on Greek mythology will, I hope, more fully set this forth at a not too distant day. I must add, however, that by accepting my view, a superstition may be satisfactorily explained which I, at least, have always felt it difficult to understand. I refer to the miraculous legend that the áλialeтos compels his breed to look into the sun, and kills those whose eyes shed tears, a tale which is told as early as Aristotle, and which, of course, has not escaped a moral interpretation.

I have never been able to believe in the common and rationalistic explanation of the matter; viz. that the legend is founded on the sharp sight of the eagle, from which the proverbial "eagle eye" is derived. On the other hand, once we admit that eagle and sun were related, because the sun himself was an eagle, all seems to be plain to me. Thus the family of Aietes inherited from their ancestor, the Sun-god, the sunny eye.2 At this point it also becomes clear why the eagle, the bird related to the sun, holds so prominent a place among the oracle birds. For the sun sees everything.3 Nor, do I think, is it very difficult to see why the sun was believed to be an eagle. But βοῦς ἐπὶ γλώσσῃ μέγας βέβηκε, and I must be satisfied at present to refer the reader to Usener's paper on Pasparios.1

Sophokl. Aias, 661–663.

Aias has started out to bury the sword with which he killed the cattle of the Greeks. For this sword is a gift from Hector, he says, and ever since I got it, I have been pursued by misfortune.

ἀλλ ̓ ἔστ ̓ ἀληθὴς ἡ βροτῶν παροιμία

ἐχθρῶν ἄδωρα δῶρα κοὐκ ὀνήσιμα.

Wolff in his notes refers us for this passage to the Greek custom of removing instruments of murder from the society

1 Hist. an. IX. 34. Cp. Pauly-Wissowa, I. 371, 53-65.

2 Apollon. Rhod. Argon. IV. 124.

8 Ηέλιος, ὃς πάντ ̓ ἐφορᾶς Γ, 277. Cp. the German die Sonne bringt es an den Tag.'

Rhein. Mus. XLIX, 461 ff.

- —

of men. But the reason which the poet himself gives hardly
agrees with this; and still less the proverb which Aias quotes,
and to which the editors refer the saying of Laocoon in the
Aeneid. The true reason, of course, is exactly that given by
Sophokles himself. Whatever we get from an enemy is “no
good." For an evil charm lies upon such gifts and they bring
to their owner nothing but ill-luck. In one word, they are
fascinated. Thus the presence of witches and of the arch-
fiend himself, in modern superstition, either brings about mis-
fortune or, at least, turns to naught. On this idea we must
base our understanding of Aias' action. He does not simply
throw away his sword, for it might return to him, but
he buries it in the soil, as things infected with an evil charm
are buried, e.g. in sympathetic cures. Moreover, earth has
the power to bind the evil force and to make it inefficient, as
in many rites of ancient superstition. And our passage may
perhaps help us to understand why this is so. For in vs. 660
Aias says: ἀλλ ̓ αὐτὸ νὺξ Αιδης τε σῳζόντων κάτω. That is
to say, by burying the sword it is handed over to the chthonic
deities, to keep it from light. The same idea underlies the
custom of burying the magical papyri with their owners.
there is something uncanny about the implements of witch-
craft that makes them liable to wreak a curse on their inno-
cent possessors. Therefore it is good to get rid of them.
And where are they more securely kept from returning than
in Hades? That Aias is not simply doing away with his
sword, when he buries it, is shown, if need be, by vs. 657 ff.:
μολών τε χῶρον ἔνθ ̓ ἂν ἀστιβῆ κίχω
κρύψω τόδ ̓ ἔγχος, ἔχθιστον βελῶν,

γαίας ὀρύξας ἔνθα μήτις ὄψεται,

For

precautions which too closely resemble the measures taken in superstitious actions to be ascribed to a mere coincidence.

1 II. 49.

2 Cp. 817 f.: δῶρον μὲν ἀνδρὸς ̔́Εκτορος ξένων ἐμοὶ μάλιστα μισηθέντος, ἐχθίστου δ ̓ ὁρᾶν.

8 Wuttke, Deutscher Volksaberglaube, § 395.

4 Ibid. §§ 492-495. Cp. Geopon. X. 67, 3.

5 Pauly-Wissowa, Realencyclop. I. 44, 32 ff.