Chapter II: The Survival of Pagan Deities (10)

How Arabs have come to find a place among the _genii_ of modern Greece is a question which must be answered in one of two ways. Either during the Turkish domination of Greece the Arab slaves, who were to be found in every wealthy house, were suspected by the Christian population of possessing magical powers, and from being magicians were elevated, as the _Striges_ often were in mediaeval and modern Greece, to the rank of demons; or else they are another example of the transmutation of victims into _genii_. For several reasons I incline to the latter explanation. First, these Arabs are most commonly associated with wells, and for the sinking of a well, no less than for the erection of a building or the opening of a quarry, a victim would naturally be required. Secondly, an animal victim is for choice of a black or dark colour, and, by parity of reasoning, among human victims an Arab (or other man of dark colour, for the word Arab is used popularly of all such) would be preferable to a white man. Thirdly, it was reported from Zacynthos only a generation ago that a strong feeling still existed there in favour of sacrificing a Mohammedan or a Jew at the foundation of important bridges and other buildings[729]; and there is a legend of a black man having been actually immured in the bridge of an aqueduct near Lebadea in Boeotia[730]. Lastly, I heard from a shepherd belonging to Chios the story of a house in that island haunted by beings whom he called indifferently Arabs[731] and _vrykólakes_. He himself had been mad for eight months from the shock of seeing them, and four of his friends who visited the house to discover the cause of his disaster were similarly afflicted. The demons were finally laid to rest by an old man driving a flock of goats through the house[732]. Now _vrykólakes_, with whom I shall deal at length later on, are persons resuscitated after death who issue from their graves; and among those who are predisposed to such reappearance are men who have met with a violent death. The identification therefore of Arabs with _vrykólakes_ in this story suggests that an Arab victim sacrificed at the foundation of some building might become the _genius_ of it--not in this case the beneficent guardian of it, but owing to his violent death a malicious and hurtful monster. On this evidence I incline to the view that the Arabs who now form a class of _genii_ were originally the human victims preferred at the sinking of wells--a piece of engineering, it must be remembered, of first-rate importance in a country as dry as Greece--and that, when once these _genii_ had become associated with water, the popular imagination soon assigned them to rivers and natural springs no less than to wells.

The _genii_ of rivers sometimes appear also in the shape of bulls, though as I have already remarked this type of _genius_ is far more commonly associated with churches. Possibly in some cases the fact that the church was built in the neighbourhood of some sacred spring, whose miraculous virtue was of older date and repute than Christianity, first caused the transference; but at any rate some rivers still retain this type of _genius_, the type under which river gods were regularly represented in ancient times. In this connexion a story entitled ‘the ox-headed man[733]’ and narrated to me at Goniá in the island of Santorini deserves mention.

A princess and a poor girl once agreed that when they were married, if of their respective first-born the one should be a boy and the other a girl, these two should be married. Now, as it chanced, princess and peasant-maid were both wed on the same day, but for a long time both remained childless. Then at last they prayed to the Panagia, the princess for a child even if it were but a girl, the peasant for a son even if he were but half a man; and their prayers were answered; for the poor woman bore a son with the head of an ox, while the princess was blest with a beautiful daughter.

When the two children were grown up, the poor woman went one day to claim the fulfilment of the agreement, and the princess, or rather now the queen, went to ask her husband. He however objected to the suitor on the grounds of personal appearance, and stipulated that he should at least first perform certain feats to prove his worthiness. The first task was to build a palace of pearls, the second to plant the highest mountain of Santorini (μέσο βουνί, ‘central mountain,’ as it is locally called) with trees, and the third to border all the roads of the island with flowers. For each labour one single night was the limit of time. But the ox-headed man was equal to the work, and having accomplished it came riding on a white horse to claim his bride. The king however, who had imposed these three labours in full assurance that the unseemly suitor would fail, now flatly refused to abide by his promise, and the man retired disconsolate and disappeared none knew whither.

The young princess was much affected at the unfair treatment of her lover, and each day she grew more and more melancholy. But finally she hit upon a means of cheering herself. She proposed to her father that they should leave the palace and start an inn, not for money, but for the sake of the amusement to be derived from the stories and witty sayings of the guests. The king consented, and the inn was set up.

Now one day a boy who had been fishing dropped his rod into the river, and having dived in after it came to a flight of stairs at the bottom. Having walked down forty steps, he entered a large room where sat the ox-headed man, who talked with him and told him that he was waiting there for a princess who came not. The boy then returned without hurt, and on his way home had to pass the inn. Having turned in there, he was asked by the princess to tell her something amusing. He replied however that he knew no stories, but would recount to her an adventure which had just befallen him. In the course of the story the princess recognised that what the boy called the _genius_ of the river (τὸ στοιχειὸ τοῦ ποταμοῦ) could be no other than her lover, and having been straightway conducted to the spot, found and married the ox-headed man, and in his palace under the river lived happily ever afterwards--“but” (as Greek fairy-tales often end) “we here much more happily.”

It is curious that Santorini of all places should be the source of this story; for the island does not possess a stream. Locally however certain gullies by which the island is intersected are known as rivers (ποταμοί)[734], and after unusually heavy rain they might perhaps form torrents; at any rate one known as ‘the evil river’ (ὁ κακὸς ποταμός) is frequently mentioned in popular traditions as a real river. Possibly the tradition is accurate; for the volcanic nature of the island would readily account for the disappearance of a single stream[735]. But the importance of the story lies in the mention of an ox-headed man as _genius_ of a river. The fact that he is made the son of a peasant-woman need not concern us; the first part of the story is probably adapted from some other folk-tale with a view to account for the wooing of a princess by so ill-favoured a suitor. In the latter part we have a more ancient _motif_, the wedding of a mortal maid with a river-god. If only it were mentioned in this tale that, besides the power of performing miraculous tasks, the bull-headed man had the faculty, which modern _genii_ possess, of transforming himself into other shapes, we should have a complete parallel (save in the princess’ willingness to wed) with the wooing of Deianira by the river-god Achelous; “for he,” says she, “in treble shapes kept seeking me from my sire, coming now in true bull-form, now as a coiling serpent of gleaming hues, anon with human trunk and head of ox[736].” The _genii_ of rivers have not, it would seem, changed their forms and attributes, save for the admission of Arabs to their number, from the age of Sophocles to this day.

* * * * *

The third class of _genius_ which we have to notice is terrestrial, inhabiting mountains, rocks, caves, and any other grim and desolate places. These _genii_ are the most frequent of all, and are known as dragons. Not of course that all dragons are terrestrial; the dragon-form has already been mentioned among the forms proper to the _genii_ of springs and wells, and also as a shape assumed at will by the Arabs who more frequently occupy those haunts. But terrestrial _genii_, in whatever place they make their lair--and no limit can be set to such places--are far most commonly pictured as dragons; and I have therefore preferred to speak of the dragons in general here, rather than among the _genii_ of either buildings or water.

The term δράκος or δράκοντας[737] indicates to the Greek peasant a monster of no more determinate shape than does the word ‘dragon’ to ourselves. The Greek word however differs, and has always differed, from the English form of it in one respect, namely that it is often employed in a strict and narrow sense to denote a ‘serpent’ as distinguished from a small snake (in modern Greek φίδι, i.e. ὀφίδιον, the diminutive of the ancient ὄφις). On the other hand, a Greek ‘dragon,’ in the widest sense of the term, is sometimes distinctly anthropomorphic in popular stories, and is made to boil kettles and drink coffee without any sense of impropriety. It is in fact only from the context of a story that it is possible to determine in what shape the dragon is imagined; in general it is neither flesh nor fowl nor good red devil; heads and tails, wings and legs, teeth and talons, are assigned to it in any number and variety; it breathes air and fire indifferently; it sleeps with its eyes open and sees with them shut; it makes war on men and love to women; it roars or it sings, and there is little to choose between the two performances; for the lapse of centuries, it seems, has in no wise mellowed its voice[738]. The stories of the common-folk are full of these monsters’ savagery and treachery[739]; for it is the dragons, above all other supernatural beings, who provide the wandering hero of the fairy-tales with befitting adventures and tests of prowess.

A common _motif_ of such stories is provided by the belief that dragons are the guardians of buried treasure. When a man in a dream has had revealed to him the whereabouts of buried treasure, his right course is to go to the spot without breathing to anyone a hint of his secret, and there to slay a cock or other animal such as is offered at the laying of foundation-stones, in order to appease the _genius_ (which is almost always a dragon, though an Arab is occasionally substituted) before he ventures to disturb the soil. This is the very superstition which Artemidorus had in mind when he interpreted dreams about dragons to denote ‘wealth and riches, because dragons make their fixed abode over treasures[740].’ Having complied with these conditions the digger may hope to bring gold to light; but if he have previously betrayed to anyone his expectations or have failed to propitiate the dragon, the old proverb is fulfilled, ἄνθρακες ὁ θησαυρός[741], his treasure turns out to be but ashes (κάρβουνα).

The guardianship likewise of gardens wherein flow ‘immortal waters’ or grows ‘immortal fruit’ is the province of dragons. In Tenos a typical story concerning them is told in several versions[742]. The hero of them all bears the name of Γιαννάκης or ‘Jack’ (a familiar diminutive of Ἰωάννης, ‘John’)--a name commonly given in Greek fairy-tales to the performer of Heraclean feats. The hero who, after discovering that his youngest sister is a Strigla, has fled with his mother, the queen, from the palace where they were in imminent danger of being devoured[743], comes to a castle occupied by forty dragons. The prince straightway attacks them single-handed and slays, so he thinks, all of them, but in reality one has only feigned to be dead and so escapes to a hole beneath the castle, of which Jack now becomes the master. The remaining dragon however ventures forth, when the prince is gone out to the chase, and makes love to the queen, and after a while dragon and queen knowing that the prince would be incensed at their intrigue conspire to kill him. To this end the queen on her son’s return pretends to be ill, and in response to his enquiries tells him that the only thing that can heal her is ‘immortal water[744],’ which, as her paramour, the dragon, knows, is to be found only in a distant garden guarded by one or more other dragons. The prince at once undertakes to obtain the desired remedy, and is directed by a witch (who in some versions appears as the impersonation of his τύχη or ‘Fortune’) whither to go and how to deal with the dragons. These accordingly he slays or eludes, and so returns home unhurt bringing the immortal water. Then once more the dragon and the queen take counsel together, and the pretence of illness is repeated with a demand this time for some immortal fruit or herb[745] known to be guarded in the same way as the water; and once more the prince sets out and circumvents the dragons in some new fashion.

Between such stories and the ancient fable of Heracles’ journey to the land of the Hesperides in search of the golden apples, and of his victory over the guardian-dragon Ladon, the connexion is self-evident. Whether that connexion is one of direct lineage, is less certain. More probably, I think, a form of this same story was already current in an age to which the name of Heracles was as unknown as that of the modern Jack; and just as the story of Peleus and Thetis became the classical example of the winning of a nymph to wife by a mortal man[746], so the myth, by which the exploit of bearing off wonderful fruit from the custody of a dragon was numbered among the labours of Heracles, is nothing more than the authorised version, so to speak, of a fairy-tale that might have been heard of winter-nights in Greek cottage-homes any time between the Pelasgian and the present age.

* * * * *

Daemons of the air, the fourth class of _genius_ which we have to consider, have been acknowledged ever since the time of Hesiod and doubtless from a period far anterior to that. In his theology it was the lot of the first race of men in the golden age to become after death daemons ‘clothed in air and going to and fro through all the world’ as good guardians of mortal men. But the goodness which Hesiod attributes to the _genii_ of the air was never, I suspect, an essential trait in their character. In Hesiod it is a corollary of the statement that they are the spirits of men who belonged to the golden age; but there is no reason to suppose that the common-folk ever regarded them as more beneficent than other gods and daemons. At any rate at the present day the ἀερικά, or _genii_ of the air, are no better disposed towards mankind than any other supernatural beings.

Of this class as a whole little can be said. The word ἀερικό is applied to almost any apparition too vague and transient to be more clearly defined. It suggests something ‘clothed in air,’ something less tangible, less discernible, than most of the beings whom the peasant recognises and fears. The limits of its usage are hard to fix. It may properly include a Nereid whose passing through the air is the whirlwind, and it will equally certainly exclude a callicantzaros or a dragon. Yet even the Nereids are more substantial than the _genii_ of the air in their truest form; for the assaults of Nereids upon men and women are made, as we have seen, from without[747], while _genii_ of the air are more often supposed to ‘possess’ men in the same way as do devils, and to be liable to exorcism.

But, if the class as a whole is too vague and shadowy in the popular imagination to be capable of exact description, one division of it is more clearly defined and has a generally acknowledged province of activity. These particular aërial _genii_ are known as Telonia (τελώνια or, more rarely, τελωνεῖα). They cannot claim equal antiquity with some of their fellows, for they are, it would seem, a by-product of Christianity, with a certain accretion however of pagan superstition.

The origin of the name Telonia is not in dispute. It means frankly and plainly ‘custom-houses.’ Such is the bizarre materialism of the Greek imagination that the soul in its journeys no less than the body is believed to encounter the embarrassment of custom-houses. An institution which of all things mundane commands least sentiment and sympathy has actually found a place in popular theology. Many of the people indeed at the present day, as I know from enquiry, have ceased to connect their two usages of the word; but others accept as reasonable the belief that the soul in its voyage after death up from the earth to the presence of God must bear the scrutiny of aërial customs-officers.

But, apart from modern belief, the apotheosis of the _douane_ is amply proved by passages cited by Du Cange[748] from early Christian authors. ‘Some spirits,’ says one[749], ‘have been set on the earth, and some in the water, and others have been set in the air, even those that are called “aërial customs-officers” (ἐναέρια Τελώνια).’ Another[750] speaks of ‘the Judge and the prosecutions by the toll-collecting spirits.’ Yet another[751] explains the belief in fuller detail: ‘as men ascend, they find custom-houses guarding the way with great care and obstructing the soaring souls, each custom-house examining for one particular sin, one for deceit, another for envy, another for slander, and so on in order, each passion having its own inspectors and assessors[752].’ Again a prayer for the use of the dying contains the same idea: ‘Have mercy on me, all-holy angels of God Almighty, and save me from all evil Telonia, for I have no works to weigh against my wrong-doings[753].’ Appeal in support of this belief was made even to the authority of Christ as given in the words, ‘Thou fool, this night they require thy soul of thee[754],’ where the commentators explained the vague plural as implying some such subject as ‘toll-collectors’ or ‘custom-house officers[755].’

But the belief does not stop here. One does not pass the custom-houses of this world, or at any rate of Greece, without some expenditure in duty or in _douceur_; and the same apparently holds true of the celestial custom-houses. Hence in some places the belief has generated a practice, or, to speak more exactly, has breathed a new spirit into the old practice of providing the dead with money. My view of the origin of this practice has already been explained; I have given reasons for holding that the coin placed in the mouth of the dead was simply a charm to prevent evil spirits from entering, or the soul from re-entering, into the body, and that the interpretation of the custom, according to which the coin was the fee of the ferryman Charon, was of comparatively late date. At the present day Charon in the _rôle_ of ferryman is almost forgotten; but in his place the Telonia seem locally to have become the recipients of the fee, and the old custom has thus received a second and equally erroneous explanation.

This may have been the idea in the mind of my informant who vaguely said that a coin placed in the mouth of the dead was ‘good because of the aërial beings[756].’ If the particular aërial beings whom he had in mind were the Telonia, he no doubt thought of the coin as a fee payable to them, though in that case it is somewhat strange that he should not have used the name which actually denotes their toll-collecting functions.

But from other sources at any rate comes evidence of a less ambiguous kind that the idea of paying the Telonia for passage is, or has been, a real motive in the minds of the peasantry. In Chios (where however the object actually placed in the mouth of the dead is clearly understood as a precaution against a devil entering the body) it is believed that the soul after death remains for forty days in the neighbourhood of its old habitation, the body, and then making its way to Hades has to pass the Telonia. Happy the soul that makes its voyage on Friday, for then the activities of the Telonia (who in the conception of the islanders are clearly evil spirits and not, as sometimes, the ministers of God) are restrained. But, to appease the Telonia and to ensure the safe passage of the soul, money is distributed to the poor[757]. The same usage obtains also at Sinasos in Cappadocia, and there the money so distributed is actually called τελωνιακά, ‘duty paid at the customs[758].’ The fact that in both these cases the money is now given in alms instead of being buried with the body is clearly a result of Christian influence; before that change was effected, it is reasonably likely that the widely-known practice of placing a coin in the mouth of the dead was explained in some places, though erroneously, by the belief that the dead must pay their way through the aërial custom-houses. The term περατίκι, ‘passage-money,’ by which, in the neighbourhood of Smyrna, is denoted the coin still in that district buried with the dead, has reference possibly to the same Telonia rather than to Charon[759].

Another and wholly different aspect of the Telonia concerns the living and not the dead, while it still exhibits them as true _genii_ of the air. Any striking phenomena of the heavens at night, such as shooting-stars or comets, are believed to be manifestations of the Telonia[760]; but most dreaded of all is the phenomenon known to us as St Elmo’s light, the flame that sometimes flickers in time of storm about the mast-head and yards. This light, the Greek sailor thinks, portends an immediate onset of malevolent aërial powers, whom he straightway tries to scare away by every means in his power, by invocation of saints and incantation against the demons, by firing of guns, and, best of all, by driving a black-handled knife (which is in the Cyclades thought doubly efficacious if an onion has recently been peeled with it) into the mast. For he no longer discriminates as did the Greek mariner of old; then the appearance of two such flames was greeted with gladness as a manifestation of the Dioscuri, the saviours from storm and tempest, and evil was portended only if there appeared a single flame, the token of Helena[761], who wrecked as surely as her twin brothers guarded; now the phenomenon in any form bodes naught but ill. This change is probably due to Christian influences; the seaman no longer looks to any pagan power for succour in time of peril; he accounts St Nicholas his friend and saviour; and the Telonia, who in this province of their activity represent the older order of deities, have become by contrast man’s enemies.

Other vague and incorrect usages of the term Telonia are also recorded. Sometimes it may be heard as a synonym for δαιμόνια, any non-Christian deities. In Myconos it is said to have been applied to the _genii_ of springs[762]. In Athens men used to speak of Telonia of the sea, who like the Callicantzari were abroad only from Christmas until the blessing of the waters at Twelfth-night; and during this time ships were wont to be kept at anchor and secure from their attacks[763]. A belief is also mentioned by Pouqueville[764], in a very confused passage, that children who die unbaptised become Telonia; but the statement is corroborated by Bernhard Schmidt[765], who adduces information of the same belief existing in Zacynthos. The idea at the root of it probably was that unbaptised children could not pass the celestial customs, and were detained there on their road to the other world in order to assist in obstructing the passage of other souls. But these are local variations of the main belief, and, so far as I can see, are of little importance. In general the Telonia are a species of aërial _genius_, and their two activities consist in the collecting of dues from departed souls and assaults upon mariners.

* * * * *

There remain only for consideration the _genii_ of human beings, or the attendant spirits to whom is committed in some way the guidance of men’s lives. To some of them the name _genius_ (i.e. στοιχειό) would hardly perhaps be extended by the peasants; but they all bear the same kind of relation towards men, and may therefore conveniently be grouped together for discussion.

The best example which I know of an acknowledged _genius_ attached to a man is in a story in Hahn’s collection[766], which tells of an old wizard whose life was bound up with that of a ten-headed snake which lived beneath a threshing-floor. Here the monstrous nature of the _genius_ is doubtless intended to match the character of the wizard; ordinary men, unversed in magic, may have _genii_ of a less complex pattern. Thus the snake which so commonly acts as _genius_ to a house is also in many cases regarded as the _genius_ of the head or some other member of the household. When therefore the death-struggle of any person is prolonged, this is sometimes set down to the unwillingness of the _genius_ to permit his death; and in extreme cases of protracted agony recourse has before now been had to a priest, who, entering the sick man’s room alone, reads a special prayer for the sufferer’s release, and by virtue of this solemn office causes the house-snakes, who are pagan _genii_, to burst[767]. With their disruption of course the soul of the dying man is at once set free.

But the guardian spirits of whom the peasants most commonly speak belong to the _personnel_ of Christian theology or demonology, and are therefore not actually numbered among _genii._ These are angels, two of whom are allotted to each man, the one good (ὁ καλὸς ἄγγελος) and the other bad (ὁ κακὸς ἄγγελος). But though the designation _genius_ is not applied to them, in functions angels and _genii_ do not differ. To them belongs the control of a man’s life, the one guiding him in the way of righteousness, and the other diverting him to the pitfalls of vice. Their presence is ever constant, but seldom visible. Sometimes indeed, in stories at any rate, we hear of the good angel appearing to a man and rewarding him in his old age for a virtuous life[768]; and in general men born on Saturday, σαββατογεννημένοι, are reputed to be ἀλαφροστοίχει̯ωτοι[769] and endowed with special powers of seeing and dealing with the supernatural. But most commonly the power to see the guardian angel is granted only to the dying, and the vision is a warning that the end is near. So, when the gaze of a dying man becomes abstracted and fixed, they say in some places βλέπει τὸν ἄγγελό του, or in one word ἀγγελοθωρεῖ[770], ‘he sees his angel,’ or again ἀγγελοσκιάζεται[771], ‘he is terrified of an angel.’ In these expressions it is not clear which of the two angels is intended; but, to judge from other expressions, popular belief recognises the activity of the one or the other according to the peace or pain of the death. ‘He is borne away by an angel,’ ἀγγελοφορᾶται[772], suggests a quiet passing, as of Lazarus who was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom; while the word ἀγγελομαχεῖ, ‘he is fighting with an angel,’ an expression used in Laconia of a protracted death-struggle, and again ἀγγελοκρούσθηκε[773], ‘he was stricken by an angel,’ a term which denotes a sudden death, argue rather the presence of the evil angel.

Another kind of _genius_ sometimes associated with men is the ἴσκιος (the modern form of σκιά), the ‘shadow’ personified. The phrase ἔχει καλὸ ἴσκιο, ‘he has a good shadow,’ is used of a man who enjoys good fortune, and he himself is described sometimes as καλοΐσκι̯ωτος[774], ‘good-shadowed,’ that is, ‘lucky.’ But apparently a man may also get into trouble with this shadow no less than with an angel. The word ἰσκιοπατήθηκε, ‘he has been trampled upon by his shadow[775],’ is used occasionally of a man who has been stricken down by some sudden, but not necessarily fatal, illness such as epilepsy or paralysis. This personification of the shadow as _genius_ is perhaps responsible in some measure for the fear which the peasant feels of having the foundation-stone of a building laid upon his shadow; but, as I have said above, the principle of sympathetic magic will explain the cause of fear without this supposition.

To these _genii_ might reasonably be added the Fate (ἡ Μοῖρα or, more rarely, ἡ Τύχη) of each individual. But these lesser Fates, as well as the great Three, have already been discussed, and there is nothing to add here save that by virtue of the close connexion of each lesser Fate with the life of one man these too might be numbered among _genii_.

The same belief in a guardian-deity presiding over each human life is to be found throughout ancient Greek literature. In Homer the name for such a _genius_ is Κὴρ (at any rate if it be of an evil sort), in later writers δαίμων--both of them vague terms which embrace other kinds of deities as well, yet not so vague but that with the aid of context we can readily discover in them the equivalent of the ‘guardian-angel’ or other modern _genius_. From Homer onwards the word λαγχάνειν is regularly used of the allotment of each human life from the moment of birth to one of these guardians, and the belief in their attendance upon men throughout, and even after, life seems to have had general acceptance. In the _Iliad_ the wraith of Patroclus is made to speak of the hateful _Ker_ to whom he was allotted at the hour of birth[776], and the _Ker_ here mentioned is not, I think, merely fate in the abstract but as truly a person as that baneful _Ker_ of battle and carnage ‘who wore about her shoulders a robe red with the blood of heroes[777].’ After Homer the word δαίμων is preferred, but there is no change in the idea. The famous saying of Heraclitus, ἦθος ἀνθρώπῳ δαίμον, ‘the god that guides man’s lot is character,’ is in no wise dark, but Plato throws even clearer light upon the popular belief in guardian-_daemons_. ‘It is said that at each man’s death his _daemon_, the _daemon_ to whom he had been allotted for his lifetime, has the task of guiding him to some appointed place[778],’ where the souls of men must assemble for judgement. Here the words ‘it is said’ indicate the popular source of the doctrine; and this is confirmed by another passage in which Plato[779] protests against the fatalism involved in the allotment of souls to particular _daemons_, and prefers to hold that the soul may choose its own guardian. Again in a fragment of Menander there is a simple statement of the belief in a form which robs fatalism of its gloom:

Beside each man a daemon takes his stand
E’en at his birth-hour, through life’s mysteries
A guide right good[780].

But there were others who did not take so cheerful a view, at any rate of their own guardian-deities; ‘alas for the most cruel _daemon_ to whom I am allotted[781]’ is a complaint of a type by no means rare in Greek literature, and the word κακοδαίμων came as readily as εὐδαίμων to men’s lips[782].

From these passages it is evident that in general each man was believed to have one, and only one, attendant _genius_, and his happiness or misery to depend on the character of the guardian allotted to him by fate. But sometimes this injustice of destiny was obviated by a belief similar to the modern belief in both good and bad angels in attendance on each man. The comment of Servius on Vergil’s line, ‘Quisque suos patimur manes[783],’ sets forth this view: ‘when we are born two _Genii_ are allotted to us, one who exhorts us to good, the other who perverts us to evil.’

As in modern so in ancient times these _genii_ were rarely visible to the men whom they guarded. The _genius_ of Socrates, which, like those of other men past and present, had been, so he held, divinely appointed to wait upon him from his childhood onward[784], spoke to him indeed in a voice which he could hear[785] (just perhaps as the priestess of Delphi heard the voice of Apollo[786]), but ever remained unseen.

FOOTNOTES:

[107] Pindar, _Nem._ VI. 1

ἓν ἀνδρῶν, ἓν θεῶν γένος· ἐκ μιᾶς δὲ πνέομεν
ματρὸς ἀμφότεροι· διείργει δὲ πᾶσα κεκριμένα
δύναμις κ.τ.λ.

The opening phrase is often, even usually, translated ‘one is the race of men, another the race of gods.’ Whether ἓν ... ἓν was ever used in Greek for ἄλλο ... ἄλλο, I doubt; but even if it be possible, the emphasis ἓν ... ἓν ... ὲκ μιᾶς must to my mind be an emphasis upon unity, and the first mention of divergence comes equally strongly in διείργει δὲ....

[108] Stobaeus, _Sentent._ p. 279, Πρῶτος Θαλῆς διαιρεῖ ... εἰς θεὸν, εἰς δαίμονας, εἰς ἥρωας.

[109] For dialectic variations of the form, see Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugr._ p. 91.

[110] I. _Cor._ v. 12, I. _Tim._ iii. 7, and elsewhere.

[111] Basil III. 944 A (Migne, _Patrol. Graec._ vol. XXIX.).

[112] Pouqueville, _Voyage de la Grèce_, I. p. 319, writes ‘Pagania.’

[113] In Andros the word is used (in the singular παγανό) to denote an unbaptised child. Cf. Ἀντ. Μηλιαράκης, Ὑπομνήματα περιγραφικὰ τῶν Κυκλάδων νησῶν,--Ἄνδρος, Κέως, p. 45.

[114] _op. cit._ p. 92, referring to Du Cange, τζίνα = fraus, p. 1571.

[115] Δελτίον τῆς Ἱστ. καὶ Ἐθν. Ἑταιρίας, II. p. 122.

[116] Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 97.

[117] _Relation de ce qui s’est passé de plus remarquable à Sant-Erini, isle de l’Archipel, depuis l’etablissement des Pères de la Compagnie de Jesus en icelle_ (Paris, 1657), p. 192 ff.

[118] See below, pp. 255 ff.

[119] See below, pp. 284-7.

[120] Cf. Hesych. σμερδαλέος, σμερδνός = φοβερός, καταπληκτικός, πολεμικός; and σμέρδος = λῆμα, ῥώμη, δύναμις, ὅρμημα.

[121] Bybilakis, _Neugriechisches Leben_, p. 16, and in the periodical Φιλίστωρ, IV. p. 517.

[122] _op. cit._ p. 92.

[123] Steph. _Thesaur._ s.v.

[124] Ἐφημ. τῶν Φιλομαθῶν, anno 1861, p. 1851, quoted by Schmidt, _loc. cit._

[125] Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 92.

[126] _Ibid._

[127] Zenob. _Cent._ III. 3. Cf. Hesych. and Suidas, s.v. Γελλώ.

[128] Cf. Leo Allatius, _de quor. Graec. opin._ cap. III. _ad fin._, quoting Mich. Psellus, πᾶσαν τὴν ἐν τοῖς βρέφεσιν ἀπορροφᾶν ὥσπερ ὑγρότητα.

[129] Artemidorus, _Oneirocritica_, Bk II. cap. 9, p. 90.

[130] _Ibid._ p. 91.

[131] Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugr._ p. 33.

[132] Schmidt, _Märchen_, etc. p. 131.

[133] Soutzos, _Hist. de la Révolution Grecque_, p. 158. Cf. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 27.

[134] Schmidt, _Märchen_, etc. no. XI.

[135] Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, p. 135.

[136] Πανδώρα (periodical) XVI. p. 538, ἅγιε Νικόλα ναύτη.

[137] B. Schmidt, _Märchen_, etc. no. XX.

[138] Plutarch, _de defect. orac._ 17.

[139] _Idyll._ I. 15.

[140] _Ps._ 91. 6.

[141] _De quorumdam Graecorum opinationibus_, cap. VIII.

[142] Du Cange, _Lex. med. et infim. Latin_, s.v.

[143] Clarke, _Catalogue of Sculptures in Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge_.

[144] The population of Eleusis, as of many villages in Attica, is mainly Albanian; but they have inherited many of the old Greek superstitions and customs.

[145] Lenormant, _Monographie de la voie sacrée éleusinienne_, p. 399 ff.

[146] “The diminutive in Albanian of Nicolas is Kolio: in the choice of this name is there not a reminiscence of that of Celeus?”--so Lenormant in a note. The suggestion does not appear to me very probable.

[147] Opposite Eleusis in Salamis.

[148] Euseb. _Chron._ p. 27. Plut. _Vita Thes._ XXXI. _ad fin._

[149] Paus. VIII. 15.

[150] Conon, _Narrat._ 15.

[151] _Tour through Greece_, II. p. 440.

[152] _Travels in the Morea_, III. p. 148.

[153] Paus. VIII. 42. 1-4, and 25. 5.

[154] Schol. in Ar. _Ran._ 441. Aelian, _Hist. Anim._ X. 16.

[155] Frazer, _Golden Bough_, II. 44 ff. (2nd edit.).

[156] Herod. II. 171.

[157] Aelian, _l.c._

[158] Herod. II. 47. Plut. _Isis et Osiris_, 8 (Moral. 354). Aelian, _l.c._

[159] _Märchen_ etc. Song no. 56.

[160] Above, p. 53.

[161] Schmidt, _Märchen_ etc. no. VII.

[162] Paus. VIII. 42. 1 ff.

[163] Paus. VIII. 42. 2.

[164] Schuchhardt, _Schliemann’s Excavations_ (tr. Sellers), p. 296.

[165] _Ibid._

[166] Paus. II. 22. 1.

[167] _op. cit._ p. 147.

[168] _op. cit._ p. 302.

[169] Schuchhardt, _op. cit._ p. 151, and Leaf’s introduction, p. XXVII. Cf. Frazer in _Journal of Philology_, XIV. 145 ff.

[170] Schuchhardt, _op. cit._ p. 151.

[171] _op. cit._ p. 303.

[172] Frazer in _Journal of Philology_, XIV. pp. 145 ff.

[173] Paus. I. 18. 3.

[174] _Id._ IX. 36.

[175] _Iliad_ IX. 404-5.

[176] _Griech. und Albanesische Märchen_, nos. 63 and 97.

[177] ‘die Schöne der Erde’ in von Hahn’s translation. Unfortunately the original does not appear in Pio’s Νεοελληνικὰ παραμύθια, for which the MSS. of von Hahn provided the material.

[178] Cf. Plut. _Vita Thes._ 31, _ad fin._

[179] For references see Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugr._ p. 222.

[180] Passow, _Popul. Carm. Graeciae recentioris_. Carm. no. 408.

[181] Χασιώτης, Συλλογὴ τῶν κατὰ τὴν Ἤπειρον δημοτικῶν ἀσμάτων, p. 169.

[182] Passow, _op. cit._ no. 423.

[183] Πολίτης, Μελέτη ἐπὶ τοῦ βίου τῶν νεωτέρων Ἑλλήνων, p. 290.

[184] Bernhard Schmidt, _Märchen_ etc. p. 81.

[185] Kindly communicated to me by Mr G. F. Abbott, author of _Macedonian Folklore_.

[186] B. Schmidt, _Märchen_ etc. Song no. 39.

[187] Cf. Passow, no. 428.

[188] _Ibid._ no. 430.

[189] Above, p. 53.

[190] _e.g._ Passow, no. 427.

[191] Cf. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 230.

[192] This expression which I have heard several times is not noticed by Schmidt or Polites. They give, however, ἀγγελοκρούεται, ‘he is being stricken by an angel,’ and other phrases meaning to see, to fear, to be carried away by, an angel, all in the same sense. See Schmidt, _op. cit._ 181, and Πολίτης, Μελέτη, κ.τ.λ. 308.

[193] κουμπάρος. The word expresses the relationship in which a godfather stands to the parents of his godson.

[194] This story, as I have told it, is not a literal translation, for I could not take down the original. But notes which I set down after hearing it enable me to reproduce it in a form which certainly contains the whole substance and many actual phrases of the version which I heard.

[195] Probably meaning the brigand’s ‘comrades.’ The term ξεφτέρι, ‘hawk,’ is commonly so applied.

[196] Πολίτης, _op. cit._ p. 246 (from Λελέκης, Δημοτ. ἀνθολ. p. 57).

[197] _e.g._ Passow, _Popul. Carm._ nos. 426-429.

[198] Σακελλάριος, Κυπριακά, vol. III. p. 48. Cf. Πολίτης, _op. cit._ p. 239.

[199] The word for ‘black’ includes the sense of ‘grim,’ ‘gloomy,’ ‘sorrowful.’ Tears are commonly described as ‘black,’ μαῦρα δάκρυα.

[200] Passow, _op. cit._ distich no. 1155.

[201] Cf. Passow, no. 408.

[202] Cf. Passow, nos. 414, 415, 417.

[203] Passow, no. 424.

[204] Aesch. _Eum._ 237.

[205] Fauriel, _Chants populaires de la Grèce Moderne, Discours préliminaire_, p. 85.

[206] Schmidt, _Märchen_ etc. Song no. 38.

[207] _Ibid._ no. 37.

[208] Schmidt, _Märchen_ etc. Song no. 7.

[209] _Das Volksleben_, p. 237.

[210] _Märchen_ etc. Song no. 10.

[211] Πολίτης, Μελέτη κ.τ.λ. p. 272.

[212] Passow, no. 371.

[213] Ἰατρίδης, Συλλογὴ δημοτ. ἀσμάτων, p. 17. Cf. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 236.

[214] So in some districts of Macedonia up to the present day; Abbott, _Macedonian Folklore_, p. 193.

[215] Πρωτόδικος, περὶ τῆς παρ’ ἡμῖν ταφῆς, p. 14. The form περατίκιον which the writer gives can hardly be popular. It might be, as Schmidt points out, περατίκιν in the local dialect. I have given the form which the word would assume in most districts.

[216] Σκορδέλης in the periodical Πανδώρα, XI. p. 449. Cf. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 238.

[217] περὶ πένθους, § 10.

[218] For this term see above, p. 68, and below, p. 283.

[219] Below, p. 285.

[220] See above, p. 13.

[221] Passow, no. 432.

[222] This is shown later to be the first form of the superstition. See below, pp. 433-4.

[223] Newton, _Travels and Discoveries in the Levant_, I. p. 289 (cited by Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 239).

[224] The use of the coin, quite apart from any such variation of the custom, was forbidden by several councils of the Church between the 4th and 7th centuries, cf. Πολίτης, Μελέτη etc. p. 269.

[225] Cf. Ricaud, _Annales des conciles généraux et particuliers_ (1773), vol. I. p. 654 (from Πολίτης, Μελέτη, p. 269).

[226] According to Bent (_Cyclades_, p. 363) the object used thus in Naxos is a wax cross with the initial letters Ι. Χ. Ν. engraved upon it, and it still bears the old name ναῦλον, ‘fare.’

[227] Κωνστ. Κανελλάκης, Χιακὰ Ἀνάλεκτα, pp. 335 and 339.

[228] Newton, _Travels and Discoveries in the Levant_, I. p. 212. The exact details of the custom in each place are given below, p. 406.

[229] See below, pp. 433-4.

[230] In Rhodes, according to Newton, _l.c._, the Christian symbol Ι. Χ. Ν. Κ. is combined with that to which I now come, the ‘pentacle.’

[231] Cf. Πολίτης, Παραδόσεις, I. 573, where it is said that in Myconos the symbol is sometimes carved on house doors to keep _vrykolakes_ (on which see below, cap. IV.) from troubling the inmates at night.

[232] Cf. Lucian, ὑπὲρ τοῦ ἐν τῇ προσαγορεύσει πταίσματος, 5.

[233] apud Pausan. x. 28. 1.

[234] _e.g._ Eur. _Alc._ 252, 361, _Heracl._ 432, Arist. _Ran._ 184 ff., _Lysistr._ 606, _Plut._ 278.

[235] Suidas s.v.

[236] Pollux, 8, 102.

[237] Pollux, 4, 132.

[238] Strabo, 579.

[239] _Ibid._ 636

[240] _Ibid._ 649.

[241] Plut. _Anton._ 16.

[242] Χάρων θάνατος, s.v.

[243] Eur. _Alc._ 48, 49.

[244] _Ibid._ 74-6.

[245] _Ibid._ 1141-2.

[246] _Ibid._ 50.

[247] Codex Vaticanus, no. 909. Cf. Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 223, whence the majority of these references are borrowed.

[248] VII. 603 and 671; XI. 133. Cf. Schmidt, _l.c._

[249] s.v.

[250] Gerhard, _die Gottheiten der Etrusker_, p. 56; Müller, _die Etrusker_, II. 102.

[251] Ambrosch, _de Charonte Etrusco_, pp. 2, 3.

[252] _Ibid._ p. 8.

[253] _Ibid._ pp. 4-7; and Maury in _Revue Archéologique_, I. 665, and IV. 791.

[254] _Annuaire de l’Association pour l’encouragement des études grecques en France_, no. VIII. (1874), p. 392 ff.

[255] Both fortifications and well are actual features of Acro-Corinth up to the present day.

[256] Pausan. I. 37, _ad fin._; Perrot, _l.c._ Cf. Frazer, _Pausanias_, II. 497.

[257] _Märchen_ etc. _Introduction_, p. 35.

[258] Cf. Bursian, _Geographie von Griechenland_, II. p. 17.

[259] Vréto, _Mélange Néo-hellenique_.

[260] Schmidt, _Märchen_ etc. nos. 16-18.

[261] _Ibid._ p. 113 (note 2).

[262] See below, p. 165.

[263] _Orph. Hymns_, 57 (58), 2.

[264] _Orph. Hymns_, 55, 8. μήτερ ἐρώτων. For representations in ancient art of many ἔρωτες, cf. Philostr. _Eikones_, p. 383 (770).

[265] See above, p. 57.

[266] Tzetzes, _Schol. on Lycophron_, 406.

[267] Pausan. _I._ 19. 2. Cf. _C. I. G._ no. 1444, and Orph. Hymn, 55 (54), 4.

[268] Apparently the old subterranean passage by which competitors entered the stadium.

[269] Mentioned by Pouqueville, _Voyage en Grèce_, V. p. 67, and confirmed by many other writers.

[270] Pausan. X. 38. 6.

[271] Pouqueville, _op. cit._ IV. p. 46.

[272] Καμπούρογλου, Ἱστορία τῶν Ἀθηναίων, I. p. 222, III. p. 156. Πολίτης, Μελέτη κ.τ.λ. p. 227.

[273] Dodwell, _Tour through Greece_, I. 397.

[274] Πολίτης, _l.c._

[275] _l.c._

[276] Καμπούρογλου, Ἱστ. τῶν Ἀθην. I. p. 222.

[277] Cf. ἦτον γραφτό μου, ‘It was my written lot,’ i.e. destiny, and other similar phrases cited by Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 212, and Πολίτης, Μελέτη, pp. 218, 219.

[278] _Choeph._ 464-5, which the Scholiast annotates thus, πέπηγε μὲν καὶ ὥρισται ὑπὸ Μοιρῶν τὸ τὴν Κλυταιμνήστραν ἀνδροκτονήσασαν ἀναιρεθῆναι κ.τ.λ.

[279] I regret to say that I cannot trace the source of this story. I incline to think that I took it from some publication, but it is possible that it was narrated to me personally.

[280] Except in Zacynthos, according to Schmidt (_Volksleben_, p. 211), where they number twelve.

[281] Schmidt, _Volksleben_, p. 220.

[282] _Chants populaires de la Grèce moderne, Discours préliminaire_, p. 83.

[283] According to Bent (_Cyclades_, pp. 292 and 437), the name Erinyes is still applied by the people of Andros and of Kythnos to the evil spirits who cause consumption.

[284] So Pouqueville, _Voyage de la Grèce_, VI. p. 160.

[285] Καμπούρογλου, Ἱστ. τῶν Ἀθην., III. pp. 67, 68.

[286] Cf. Πολίτης, Μελέτη κ.τ.λ. p. 218.

[287] The visit of the Fate on the day of birth instead of the third day after is unusual.

[288] From Καμπούρογλου, Ἱστ. τῶν Ἀθην. I. pp. 310, 311.

[289] Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 212.

[290] Cf. μόρσιμος of the ‘destined’ bridegroom, in Hom. _Od._ XVI. 392.

[291] Cf. Miss Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_, pp. 286 ff.

[292] Passow, no. 385.

[293] Heuzey, _Le mont Olympe_, p. 139. I have introduced a few alterations of spelling, mostly suggested by Schmidt, _das Volksleben_, p. 229 (note), _e.g._ τοὐρανοῦ for τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, in order to restore the rather rough metre.

[294] Πολίτης (Μελέτη κ.τ.λ. p. 228, note 1) gives the following references: Wordsworth, _Athens and Attica_, p. 228; Ἐφημ. Φιλομαθῶν, 1868, p. 1479; Passow, _Popul. Carm._ p. 431, besides those to which I have referred in other notes.

[295] _Persae_, 659.

[296] VII. 218.

[297] Πιττάκης, who recorded this version in Ἐφημ. Ἀρχαιολογική, no. 30 (1852), p. 653, spelt the word erroneously κόροιβο; the sound of οι and υ being identical in modern Greek, I have substituted the latter.

[298] _Theog._ 217 and 904.

[299] _Theog._ 217.

[300] _Prom. Vinct._ 516 ff.

[301] Leo Allatius (_de quorumdam Graec. opinationibus_, cap. xx.) quotes from Mich. Psellus (11th century) the ancient form Νηρηΐδες as then in use. He himself (_ibid._ cap. xix.) employs the form Ναραγίδες which was probably the dialectic form of his native Chios. Bern. Schmidt (_Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_, pp. 98-9) has brought together a large number of variants now in use, in which the accent fluctuates between the α and the ι, the first vowel is indifferently α, ε or η, the two consecutive vowels αϊ are sometimes contracted to ᾳ, sometimes more distinctly separated by the faintly pronounced letter γ, and lastly an euphonetic α is occasionally prefixed to the word. Hence forms as widely distinct as ἀνερᾷδες and ναραγίδες often occur. Du Cange, it may be added, gives the form Ναγαρίδες (with interchange of the ρ and the inserted γ); but since his information is seemingly drawn entirely from Leo Allatius, there is reason to regard it as merely his own error in transcribing Ναραγίδες.

[302] An attempt has been made by one authority on the folk-lore of Athens (Καμπούρογλου, Ἱστορία τῶν Ἀθηναίων, I. pp. 218 and 222), to distinguish καλοκυρᾶδες from νεράϊδες. He maintains that in Athens the latter were never regarded as maleficent beings, and must therefore be distinguished from the dread καλοκυρᾶδες, whom he seeks to identify, on no better ground than the euphemistic name, with the Eumenides. A folk-story, however, which he himself records (_ibid._ p. 319), how a καλοκυρά was married to a prince, whose eyes she had blinded to all other women, and how after living with him for a while she disappeared finally in a whirlwind, reveals in her all the usual traits of a Nereid, and thus defeats the writer’s previous contention. But apart from this a little enquiry on the subject outside the limits of Athens would have set at rest his doubts as to the identity of the two. It is quite possible that formerly in Athens, as now elsewhere, it was usual to employ the euphemism καλοκυρᾶδες in referring to the Nereids in their more mischievous moods; only in that way can I explain his idea that the Nereids were never maleficent.

[303] Cf. Passow, _Distich_ 692; Pashley, _Travels in Crete_, vol. II. p. 233; Πανδώρα, XIV. p. 566; Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 104.

[304] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 105.

[305] The latter is quoted by Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 106, from the dialect of Arachova near Delphi.

[306] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _l. c._; Bybilakis, _Neugriechisches Leben_, p. 13.

[307] Pind. _Nem._ V. 36.

[308] Hom. _Od._ 13. 102 ff.

[309] Cf. e.g. Passow, _Popularia Carmina_, Distichs 552-3.

[310] Hahn, _Griech. Märchen_, vol. I. no. 15. ‘Ihre ganze Kraft steckt aber in den Kleidern, und wenn man ihnen die wegnimmt, so sind sie machtlos.’

[311] To form a chain of dancers the leader, who occupies the extreme right, is linked to the second in the row by a kerchief, while the rest merely join hands. More freedom of motion is thus allowed to the chief performer.

[312] Cf. also Hahn, _Griech. Märchen_, vol. II. no. 77. Ἀντ. Βάλληνδας, Κυθνιακά, p. 123.

[313] The crowing of the third cock is more usually the signal for the departure of Nereids and their kind. It is commonly held that the white cock crows first, the red second, and the black third. The last is a sure saviour from the assaults of all manner of demons.

[314] Similar transformations occur in a Cretan story, the forms assumed being those of dog, snake, camel, and fire. Χουρμούζης, Κρητικά, p. 69.

[315] Cf. Apollodorus, III. 13. 5.

[316] Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, p. 104, quoting Ritschl, _Ino Leucothea_, Pl. I., II. (1 and 2), III.; and referring to a sarcophagus in the Corsini Gallery at Rome, figured in _Monum. Ined._ vol. VI. Pl. XXVI.

[317] Hom. _Od._ 5. 346 sqq. and 459 sqq.

[318] Ἀντ. Βάλληνδας, Κυθνιακά, p. 123.

[319] The women of Scopelos on certain festal occasions wear a dress which may well be the same as the classical ὀρθοστάδιον, a loose pleated robe falling from the shoulders and widening as it falls, so that their figures resemble a fluted column too broad at the base and too tapering at the top.

[320] Hahn, _Griechische Märchen_, vol. II. no. 83. Χουρμούζης, Κρητικά, p. 69.

[321] Cf. a folk-song quoted by Ross, _Reisen auf Inseln_, III. p. 180,

Σὲ μονοδένδριν μὴ ἀναιβῇς, ’στοὺς κάμπους μὴ καταίβῃς,
καὶ ’στὸν ἀπάνω ποταμὸν μὴ παίζῃς τὸ περνιαῦλι,
κῂ ἐρθοῦν καὶ μονομαζευθοῦν τοῦ ποταμοῦ ’νερᾷδες,

‘Go not up to the solitary tree, go not down to the lowlands, beside the torrent above play not thy pipes, lest the Nereids of the stream come and swarm thick about thee.’

[322] Lexicon, s.v. ῥάμνος, ἐν ταῖς γενέσεσι τῶν παιδίων χρίουσι (πίττῃ) τὰς οἰκίας εἰς ἀπέλασιν τῶν δαιμόνων.

[323] Καμπούρογλου, Ἱστορία τῶν Ἀθηναίων, III. p. 32.

[324] Cf. Welcker, _Kleine Schriften_, 3. 197-9; Rohde, _Psyche_, I. p. 360, note 1.

[325] Cf. Hom. _Od._ XI. 48 ff. and Eustathius, _ad loc._

[326] Ζ. Δ. Γαβαλᾶς, Ἡ νῆσος Φολέγανδρος, p. 29.

[327] _Reisen auf Inseln_, etc. III. pp. 181-2.

[328] _C.I.G._, no. 6201 (from Bern. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben_, etc. p. 122 note). Τοῖς πάρος οὖν μύθοις πιστεύσατε· παῖδα γὰρ ἐσθλὴν | ἥρπασαν ὡς τερπνὴν Ναΐδες, οὐ Θάνατος.

[329] Ἐμ. Μανωλακάκης, Καρπαθιακά, p. 129. There are also compounds ἐξωπαρμένος and ἀλλοπαρμένος with the same meaning.

[330] Plato, _Phaedr._ XV. (238 D).

[331] _Ibid._ 229 A, B; 230 B; 242 A; 279 B.

[332] Cf. Leo Allatius, _De quor. Graec. opin._ cap. xx. ‘potissimum si fluentis aquarum solum irrigetur.’

[333] To this belief I attribute the origin of the phrase ὥρα τὸν ηὗρε, ‘an (evil) hour overtook him’ (Leo Allatius, _op. cit._ xix.), employed euphemistically in reference to ‘seizure’ by the Nereids, and of the kindred imprecation, κακὴ ὥρα νά σ’ εὕρῃ, ‘may an evil hour overtake you’ (Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 97), which gains in force and elegance by its reversal of an ordinary phrase of leave-taking, ὥρα καλή.

[334] See above, p. 79.

[335] Leo Allatius, _op. cit._ xix.

[336] From Epirus, Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 120. See above, p. 142, note 2.

[337] Cf. Bern. Schmidt, _op. cit._ p. 120.

[338] I. p. 473 (Migne, _Patrolog. Graeco-Lat._ vol. XCIV. p. 1604).

[339] See above, p. 13.

[340] Cf. Hahn, _Griech. Märchen_, Vol. II. no. 80.

[341] _The Cyclades_, p. 457.

[342] Κωνστ. Κανελλάκης, Χιακὰ Ἀνάλεκτα, p. 369.

[343] ἡ Λάμια τοῦ πελάγου. Cf. the periodical Παρνασσός IV. p. 773, and Wachsmuth, _Das alte Griechenland im Neuen_, p. 30. See also below, pp. 171 ff.

[344] _Histoire de la Révolution grecque_, p. 228 note.

[345] Hor. _Carm._ III. 28. 10.

[346] Ἰ. Σαραντίδου Ἀρχελάου, Ἡ Σινασός, p. 90.

[347] Εὐαγγελία Κ. Καπετανάκης, Λακωνικὰ Περίεργα, pp. 43 sqq.

[348] Cf. Παρνασσός, IV. p. 669 (1880).