virtue of his ability to contract or
expand himself at pleasure, he is both the Devil in the Norse Tale, [22]
whom the lad persuades to enter a walnut, and the Arabian Efreet, whom
the fisherman releases from the bottle.

The very interesting series of myths and popular superstitions suggested
by the storm-cloud and the lightning must be reserved for a future
occasion. When carefully examined, they will richly illustrate the
conclusion which is the result of the present inquiry, that the
marvellous tales and quaint superstitions current in every Aryan
household have a common origin with the classic legends of gods and
heroes, which formerly were alone thought worthy of the student's
serious attention. These stories--some of them familiar to us in
infancy, others the delight of our maturer years--constitute the debris,
or alluvium, brought down by the stream of tradition from the distant
highlands of ancient mythology.

September, 1870.

II. THE DESCENT OF FIRE.

IN the course of my last summer's vacation, which was spent at a small
inland village, I came upon an unexpected illustration of the tenacity
with which conceptions descended from prehistoric antiquity have now
and then kept their hold upon life. While sitting one evening under the
trees by the roadside, my attention was called to the unusual conduct of
half a dozen men and boys who were standing opposite. An elderly man
was moving slowly up and down the road, holding with both hands a forked
twig of hazel, shaped like the letter Y inverted. With his palms turned
upward, he held in each hand a branch of the twig in such a way that the
shank pointed upward; but every few moments, as he halted over a certain
spot, the twig would gradually bend downwards until it had assumed the
likeness of a Y in its natural position, where it would remain pointing
to something in the ground beneath. One by one the bystanders proceeded
to try the experiment, but with no variation in the result. Something in
the ground seemed to fascinate the bit of hazel, for it could not pass
over that spot without bending down and pointing to it.

My thoughts reverted at once to Jacques Aymar and Dousterswivel, as
I perceived that these men were engaged in sorcery. During the long
drought more than half the wells in the village had become dry, and here
was an attempt to make good the loss by the aid of the god Thor. These
men were seeking water with a divining-rod. Here, alive before