XX. RECAPITULATION OF THEORIES OF THE ORIGIN OF THE HORSE-SHOE SUPERSTITION

In the preceding pages an attempt has been made to furnish plausible reasons for the horse-shoe's universal popularity both as an amulet and as a token of good luck. It is evident, however, that this superstition cannot be referred to any one particular starting-point. Just as the sources of a river may be manifold, consisting of numerous springs and tributaries, so too, the belief in the horse-shoe's magical virtues is of complex origin and can be traced to diverse beginnings.

It may be profitable, therefore, briefly to enumerate the different theories which have been advanced:--

1. At the rite of the Passover, the blood sprinkled upon the lintel and door-posts formed the chief points of an arch. Hence the value of arch-shaped talismans.

2. The magical virtue of the horse-shoe against witches and fiends has been attributed to its bifurcated form, and to its resemblance to the crescent. Charms of similar shape are known to have been in use among the ancient Chaldeans and Egyptians.

3. Iron and steel, metals having traditional power against evil-disposed fairies and goblins.

4. The serpentine shape. Serpent-worship was nearly universal among primitive peoples, and amuletic symbols of this form were in use in the days of ancient Rome.

5. The so-called horse-shoe arch as typifying a beneficent, protecting power.

6. The ancient conception of the earth as having the shape of a round boat turned upside down and corresponding to the Egyptian Put-sign.

7. The Horse. This animal was worshiped among the early Germanic tribes, and an English myth accredits to it luck-bringing qualities.

8. The Scandinavian, superstition of the Demon-Mare.

9. The old astrological principle that Mars, the God of War and the War Horse, was hostile to Saturn, the liege-lord of witches.

10. The legend of Saint Dunstan and the Devil.

11. Phallic Symbolism.

12. The Aureole or Nimbus.

13. Supernatural faculties ascribed to blacksmiths.

14. The Egyptian hieroglyphic symbol [upside down U], signifying the mystical door of life.

15. Horses' hoof-prints in mythology and tradition.

16. The horse-shoe a symbol of the heathen god Wodan.

XXI. CONCLUSION

Whatever may be the origin of the superstitious employment of the horse-shoe, its adoption as a token of good luck appears to be comparatively modern, its earliest use having been for the exclusion of witches, evil spirits, and all such uncanny beings.

Before leaving the subject an extract may be given from an article in the "London World," August 23, 1753, against the repeal of the so-called Witch Act, wherein the writer offers the following satirical advice to whomever it might concern:--

To secure yourself against the enchantments of witches, especially if you are a person of fashion and have never been taught the Lord's Prayer, the only method I know of is to nail a horse-shoe upon the threshold. This I can affirm to be of the greatest efficacy, insomuch that I have taken notice of many a little cottage in the country with a horse-shoe at its door where gaming, extravagance, Jacobitism, and all the catalogue of witchcrafts have been totally unknown.

The world moves and civilization progresses, but the old superstitions remain the same. The rusty horse-shoe found on the road is still prized as a lucky token, and will doubtless continue to be so prized; for human nature does not change, and superstition is a part of human nature.

FORTUNE AND LUCK

If Fortune favor you, be not elated;
If she frown, do not despond.
     --AUSONIUS.

When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.
     --King John, III. 4, 119.

When smiling Fortune spreads her golden ray,
All crowd around to flatter and obey;
But when she thunders from the angry sky,
Our friends, our flatterers, our lovers fly.
     --OVID.

Since Fortune is not in our power,
Let us be as little as possible in hers.
     --STEELE.

1. TYCHE, THE GRECIAN GODDESS OF GOOD LUCK

AMONG the more popular divinities of the early Grecians was Tyche, the goddess of good luck, whose worship, according to Plutarch, complemented that of Destiny. She ruled over accidental events, and was the dispenser alike of blessings and misfortunes; but when too lavish in the distribution of her favors she was liable to incur the jealousy of Nemesis, the goddess of retribution.

Tyche, the Goddess of Fortune, is not mentioned in the works of the earliest Grecian poets, but Homer and Hesiod both allude to an ocean nymph of this name who was gathering flowers with Proserpina when the latter was carried off by Pluto.

The Theban lyric poet Pindar appears to have originated the worship of Tyche, whom he celebrated in verse, and invested with the title Pharopolis, or Protectress of Cities; and in Greece, towards the close of the fifth century B.C., this goddess was generally believed to be the ruler of worldly affairs. While Zeus was, indeed, the most powerful of the gods, Tyche was regarded by some as having the character of Providence; yet she was more generally thought to be identical with Chance or Luck. The famous Ionic philosopher Anaxagoras said that Fortune was a cause unknown to human reason; for some things come by Necessity, some by fatal Destiny, and others by deliberate Counsel.

II. THE ROMAN GODDESS FORTUNA

The worship of the Goddess of Chance, Fortuna, was introduced among the Romans from Greece during the reign of Servius Tullius, and soon became very popular. Indeed, at one period Fortuna was the chief Italian divinity, and the plebeians and slaves held an annual festival on the twenty-fourth day of June in honor of her who could bestow riches and liberty. Pliny wrote that the Chance or Fortune by means of which we acquire so much is a divine power; and Plutarch, in his work on the Fortune of the Romans, attempts to show that the great achievements of that people were to be attributed to good luck rather than to sagacity or prowess. As an example he cites their escape from invasion by the opportune death of Alexander the Great at Babylon, B.C. 323, at a time when he was preparing to overwhelm Italy with his armies.

The Roman biographer, Cornelius Nepos, in speaking of the Greek general, Emenes the Cardian (B.C. 361-317), said that, even if the favors shown him by Fortune had been commensurate with his great abilities, he would not for that reason have been more eminent; for great men should be measured by their qualities, and not by their good or bad fortune. The Dutch savant, Desiderius Erasmus, wrote that Diogenes was wont to rebuke with asperity those who blamed the goddess when their affairs did not prosper; and he also severely criticised the prevalent habit of craving at the hands of Mistress Fortune, not such things as were substantually good, but rather such as seemed to be so in the fancy of the petitioners. Philip of Macedon, on the receipt of the news of great victories won by his generals, thanked Fortune for her great goodness, modestly beseeching of her only some "light and shrewd turn again at another season." And Erastus, commenting on Philip's moderation and good sense in not being unduly elated by prosperity, quaintly remarked that this great king, having profound wisdom and experience, did not insolently leap and skip about on the receipt of joyful tidings, but rather mistrusted the pampering of Fortune, whom he knew to be a fickle jade.

III. THE CHARACTER OF FORTUNE

Of all the pagan deities, Fortune was the most absolute and the most universally worshiped; for she kept all men at her feet, the prosperous through fear and the unfortunate through hope. She was also an eccentric goddess, not only favoring the brave, according to the familiar maxim of Terence, but likewise being decidedly partial to fools, if we may believe another classical saying, Fortuna favet fatuis. And again, as an ancient poet wrote, Legem veretur nocens, Fortunam innocens. The satirist Juvenal said that, if men were discreet, Fortune had no power over them. When she entered Rome she folded her wings as a sign that she wished to remain there; and, as has been aptly remarked, she is there still, for the modern Roman is as firm a believer in luck, whether good or bad, as was the Roman citizen two thousand years ago. Among the ancients, a lucky event, something opportune occurring unexpectedly, was ascribed to a sudden caprice or whim on the part of the goddess, while success in an undertaking was thought to be due to her favor when in a sober mood.

"Why was Fortune made a goddess?" asked St. Augustine, since she is so blind that she runs to anybody without distinction, and often passes by her admirers to cling to those who despise her. And Cicero remarked that Fortune was not only blind herself, but often deprived her votaries of sight.

Pliny, in discoursing about the religious beliefs current in his time, says:--

All over the world, in all places and at all times, Fortune is the only God whom every one invokes: she alone is spoken of; she alone is accused and is supposed to be guilty; she alone is in our thoughts, is praised and blamed, and is loaded with reproaches; wavering as she is, conceived by the generality of mankind to be blind, wandering, inconstant, uncertain, variable, and often favoring the unworthy. To her are referred all our losses and all our gains, and, in casting up the accounts of mortals, she alone balances the two pages of our sheet. We are so much in the power of chance, that chance itself is considered as a God.

The representations of Fortune, which are to be seen in ancient statues, bas-reliefs, medals, and coins, exhibit the many different attributes of her character. The earliest image of the goddess was probably at Smyrna, and was the work of the eminent sculptor Bupalus, who lived in the sixth century B. C. She was here shown as bearing on her head a hemisphere, and with the horn of Amalthaea in her left hand, thus typifying the distribution of all good things.

Her lack of discernment has been symbolized by artists, who have portrayed her with a bandage before her eyes; with a rudder, as guiding worldly affairs; or with a wheel or ball, as types of instability. In a painting by Sulzer, Fortune is shown seated on a throne, which is borne aloft in the air by contrary winds. In her hand is a magic wand, and her countenance expresses inconstancy and fickleness, while in her train follow Riches, Poverty, Despotism, and Slavery. In the Villa d'Este, near the Italian town of Tivoli, is a painting by Zucchari showing Fortune astride of an ostrich, which has been supposed to be an allegorical intimation that the goddess has a preference for simpletons. In her temple at Thebes, she held Wealth in her arms. Sometimes she was accompanied by a winged youth named Favor, to denote how speedily her favors may fly away from us; or by a winged Cupid, which has been thought to signify that, in Love, Beauty has a less permanent influence than Fortune.

Her numerous titles were usually complimentary, as Golden or Royal Fortune, but she was disrespectfully spoken of by Horace, Ovid, and other writers, by whom she was characterized as unjust, fickle, and delighting in mischief. One reproachful epithet applied to her was viscosa, tenacious or sticky, because men are caught in her toils like birds in quicklime.

The Abbé Banier, in his "Mythology and Fables of the Ancients," thus moralizes regarding Fortune, good and bad:--

As men have always highly valued earthly goods, 'tis no wonder that they adored Fortune. Fools! who thus instead of acknowledging an intelligent Providence that distributes riches and earthly goods, from views always wise, though dark and placed beyond the reach of human discovery, addressed their vows to an imaginary Being, that acted without design and from the impulse of unavoidable necessity; for 'tis beyond question that, in the Pagan system, Fortune was nothing else but Destiny. Accordingly she was confounded, as we shall see afterwards, with the Parcae, who were themselves that fatal Necessity, which the poets have reasoned so much about.

We learn from the historian Suetonius that the early Roman emperors were wont to cherish small images of Fortune, which they venerated as special tutelary deities.

The goddess is said to have once appeared in a vision to the Emperor Galba, who reigned A. D. 68-69, and to have informed him that she was standing weary before his door, and that, if she were not quickly admitted, every one dear to him would become her prey. On awakening he found outside the entrance-hall of his palace a bronze figure of Fortune, which he concealed beneath his garments and carried to his summer residence at Tusculum. There he set apart a sanctuary for the image, and offered prayers to it each month, keeping, moreover, in its honor an all-night vigil every year. On one occasion Galba had intended to present his little guardian genius with a necklace of pearls and precious stones, but changed his mind and gave it to the Capitoline Venus. The following night Fortune, in angry mood, again appeared to the emperor in a dream, complaining that she had been cheated out of the intended gift, and threatening to take away the many benefits which she had bestowed upon him. Alarmed at this, Galba sent a messenger early in the morning to prepare a sacrificial offering, and he himself hastened to Tusculum, but found on the altar of the sanctuary nothing but warm ashes; and near by stood an old man clothed in black, holding in one hand a glass plate containing incense, and in the other an earthenware vessel full of sacrificial wine.

Some verses containing uncomplimentary allusions to the character of Fortune were formerly to be seen on the wall of a chamber in Wressell Castle, Yorkshire, a building of the latter part of the fourteenth century, which was destroyed by fire in 1796:--

The Proverbis in the syde of the utter chamber above of the Hous in the Gardyng at Wresyll.

No thynge to fortune thou apply,
For her gyftis vanyshithe as doth fantasy,
The more thou receyvethe of her gyftis moste unsure,
The more to the aprochethe displeasure.
Then in blynde fortune put not thy truste.
For her brightness sone receyveth ruste.
Fortune is fykill, fortune is blynde.
Her rawardes be fekill and unkynde.
Forsake the glory of fortune('s) fyckillnes,
Of whom comythe worldly glory and yet much unkyndnes,
Put thy trust and in hym sett thy mynde,
Whiche when fortune faylithe will nevyr be unkynde.

Among most civilized nations of the present day the Goddess Fortune is not openly worshiped, although the Japanese have their seven Gods of Luck, which are comparatively modern deities, brought together from various sources, including their own primitive Shinto religion, Buddhism, and the Taouism of China.

The Lamas of Tibet perform each year a peculiar scapegoat rite called the Chase of the Demon of Illuck. One of their number, in fantastic garb and with grotesquely painted face, sits in the market-place for a week previously, and on the day of the ceremony this worthy, who is known as a ghost-king, wanders about shaking a black yak's tail over the heads of the people, whereby their ill-luck is in some mystic way transferred to him.

IV. TEMPLES OF FORTUNE

Temples in honor of the Goddess Tyche were built at Elis, Corinth, and in other Grecian cities; and in the second century A. D. the eminent philanthropist, Herodes Atticus, erected for her a temple in Athens, the ruins of which are believed still to exist.

The western suburb of Syracuse, in Sicily, was called Tuxn, after a temple of Tyche which adorned it.

Among the Italians the worship of Fortune became so popular that her temples outnumbered all others. "We have built a thousand temples to Fortune and not one to Reason," remarked Fronto, the worthy tutor of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Of all these pagan edifices in Rome, but a single one now remains, the temple of Fortuna Virilis, now the church of Santa Maria Egiziaca. It is a small Ionic tetrastyle building on the left bank of the Tiber, a little north of the so-called Temple of the Sun. But the most famous Italian temple of Fortune was at Preneste, an ancient Latin town, now called Palestrina. Here oracles were consulted and fugitives found a place of refuge.

In Great Britain there still exist a number of altars in honor of Fortune, which date from the Roman occupation. One of these, on the line of the wall of Antoninus in Scotland, was erected by soldiers of the second and sixth legions. Another altar, dedicated to the same goddess, was found at the headquarters of the sixth legion at Eboracum, the modern city of York, and is still to be seen at the museum there. The inscription on this altar was copied by the writer during a recent visit to York, and reads as follows:

DEÆ FORTUNÆ
SOSIA
IUNCINA
Q. ANTONI
ISAURICI
LEG. AUG.

V. LUCK, ANCIENT AND MODERN

Our English word luck, according to some authorities, is of Scandinavian origin, while others consider it to be the past tense of an Anglo-Saxon verb meaning "to catch." Luck signifies, therefore, a good catch, and is analogous to the German Glück. It has been aptly remarked that very many so-called strong-minded persons, who would not for a moment admit that they are superstitious, are yet not insensible to the fascination of this little monosyllable. As Christian people, we profess to believe implicitly in Divine Providence; yet often because we cannot understand its workings, we so far relapse into paganism as to worship secretly the Goddess Fortune. The fact is, that superstition is an ineradicable element of human nature. The combined forces of religion, education, philosophy, and common sense are allied in a perpetual warfare against it. The thousand and one little credulities which form such an important part of modern folk-lore may be intrinsically the veriest whimsies and trifles, but they are evidence of the tenacity of traditional beliefs.

The modern sailor carries in his pocket a bit of sealskin, or an eagle's beak, to shield him from the lightning; and the Southern negro has his rabbit's foot, and a host of other outlandish fetiches, all for luck.

The millions of American negroes have, indeed, a deeply-rooted love for the supernatural, and their character exhibits a peculiar blending of superstition and religion. Among the mixed colored races in Missouri, for example, we find a bewildering jumble of African Voodoo credulities, the traditions of the American Indian, and religious fanaticism. Thus, in "Voodoo Tales," by Mary A. Owen, we read of an old crone who kept her medicine-pipe and eagle-bone whistle alongside of her books of devotion, carried a rosary and rabbit's foot in the same pocket, and wore a saint's toe dangling on her bosom, and a luck-bar under her right arm.

It has been well said that only those whose minds are predisposed to entertain idle fancies are wont to regard misfortune as a natural sequence of the legion of alleged evil omens. Yet we know that in all ages and countries such notions have prevailed. The ancient Chaldeans made use of magic formulae to ward off ill-luck, and Tacitus relates that the most trivial events were regarded as portentous by the Roman people. What a contrast to the credulity of a superstitious age is afforded by the often quoted remark of Cato the Censor, who refused to regard it as ominous when informed that his boots had been gnawed by rats! "If the boots had gnawed the rats," he said, "it might have portended evil."

There is a deal of philosophy in the Irish saying, "Every man has bad luck awaiting him some time or other, but leave the bad luck to the last; perhaps it may never come."

In attributing the sundry and divers misfortunes of our lives to bad luck, we surely ignore the fact that these same unwelcome experiences are often the logical sequences of our own shortcomings, and that the fickle goddess cannot with fairness be made always to masquerade as our scapegoat.

THE FOLK-LORE OF COMMON SALT

Jests, like salt, should be used sparingly.
--Similitudes of Democritus.

I. ORIGIN AND HISTORY

THE origin of the use of common salt as a condiment is hidden in the mazes of antiquity. Although we have no evidence that this important article of diet was known to the antediluvians, there is still abundant proof that it was highly esteemed as a seasoner of food long before the Christian era. In a Greek translation of a curious fragment of the writings of the semi-fabulous Phoenician author, Sanchoniathon, who is said to have lived before the Trojan war, the discovery of the uses of salt is attributed to certain immediate descendants of Noah, one of whom was his son Shem.

From the mythical lore of Finland we learn that Ukko, the mighty god of the sky, struck fire in the heavens, a spark from which descending was received by the waves and became salt. The Chinese worship an idol called Phelo, in honor of a mythological personage of that name, whom they believe to have been the discoverer of salt and the originator of its use. His ungrateful countrymen, however, were tardy in their recognition of Phelo's merits, and that worthy thereupon left his native land and did not return. Then the Chinese declared him to be a deity, and in the month of June each year they hold a festival in his honor, during which he is everywhere eagerly sought, but in vain; he will not appear until he comes to announce the end of the world.

Among the Mexican Nahuas the women and girls employed in the preparation of salt were wont to dance at a yearly festival held in honor of the Goddess of salt, Huixtocihuatl, whose brothers the rain-gods are said, as the result of a quarrel, to have driven her into the sea, where she invented the art of making the precious substance.

The earliest Biblical mention of salt appears to be in reference to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. (Genesis xix. 24-26.) When King Abimelech destroyed the city of Shechem, an event which is believed to have occurred in the thirteenth century B.C., he is said to have "sowed salt on it," this phrase expressing the completeness of its ruin. (Judges ix. 45.) It is certain that the use of salt as a relish was known to the Jewish people at a comparatively early period of their history. For in the sixth chapter of the Book of Job occurs this passage: "Can that which is unsavoury be eaten without salt?"

In Eastern countries it is a time-honored custom to place salt before strangers as a token and pledge of friendship and good-will. The phrase "to eat some one's salt" formerly signified being in that person's service, and in this sense it is used in the Book of Ezra, iv. 14, where the expression, " we have maintenance from the king's palace," means literally, " we are salted with the salt of the palace," which implies being in the service of the king. And from the idea of being in the employment of a master, and eating his salt, the phrase in question came to denote faithfulness and loyalty.

As an instance of the superstitious reverence with which salt is regarded in the East, it is related that Yacoub ben Laith, who founded the dynasty of Persian princes known as the Saffarides, was of very humble origin, and in his youth gained a livelihood as a freebooter. Yet so chivalrous was he that he never stripped his victims of all their belongings, but always left them something to begin life with anew.

On one occasion this gallant robber had forcibly and by stealth entered the palace of a prince, and was about departing with considerable spoil, when he stumbled over an object which his sense of taste revealed to be a lump of salt. Having thus involuntarily partaken of a pledge of hospitality in another man's house, his honor overcame his greed of gain and he departed without his booty.

Owing to its antiseptic and preservative qualities, salt was emblematic of durability and permanence; hence the expression "Covenant of Salt." It was also a symbol of wisdom, and in this sense was doubtless used by St. Paul when he told the Colossians that their speech should be seasoned with salt.

Homer called salt divine, and Plato described it as a substance dear to the gods.

Perhaps the belief in its divine attributes may have been a reason for the employment of salt as a sacrificial offering by the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans, all of whom, moreover, regarded it as an indispensable relish.

Plutarch said that without salt nothing was savory or toothsome, and that this substance even imparted an additional flavor to wines, thus causing them "to go down the throat merrily." And the same writer remarked that, as bread and salt were commonly eaten together, therefore Ceres and Neptune were sometimes worshiped together in the same temple.

II. SALT UNCONGENIAL TO WITCHES AND DEVILS

Grimm remarks that salt is not found in witches' kitchens, nor at devils' feasts, because the Roman Catholic Church has taken upon herself the hallowing and dedication of this substance. Moreover, inasmuch as Christians recognize salt as a wholesome and essential article of diet, it seems plausible enough that they should regard it as unsuitable for the use of devils and witches, two classes of beings with whom they have no particular sympathy. Hence perhaps the familiar saying that "the Devil loveth no salt in his meat."

Once upon a time, according to tradition, there lived a German peasant whose wife was a witch, and the Devil invited them both to supper one fine evening. All the dishes lacked seasoning, and the peasant, in spite of his wife's remonstrances, kept asking for salt; and when after a while it was brought, he remarked with fervor, "Thank God, here is salt at last," whereupon the whole scene vanished.

The abbot Richalmus, who lived in the old German duchy of Franconia in the twelfth century, claimed, by the exercise of a special and extraordinary faculty, to be able to baffle the machinations of certain evil spirits who took special delight in playing impish tricks upon churchmen. They appear, indeed, to have sorely tried the patience of the good abbot in many ways, as, for example, by distracting his thoughts during Mass and interfering with his digestion, promoting discords in the church music, and causing annoyance by inciting the congregation to cough in sermon time. Fortunately he possessed three efficient weapons against these troublesome creatures, namely, the sign of the cross, holy water, and salt.

"Evil spirits," wrote the abbot, "cannot bear salt." When he was at dinner, and the Devil had maliciously taken away his appetite, he simply tasted a little salt, and at once became hungry. Then, if soon afterwards his appetite again failed him, he took some more salt, and his relish for food speedily returned.

In Hungarian folk-lore, contrary to the usual opinion, evil personages are fond of salt, for at those festive gatherings described in old legends and fairy tales, where witches and the Devil met, they were wont to cook in large kettles a stew of horse-flesh seasoned with salt, upon which they eagerly feasted.

Hence appears to have originated the popular notion current among the Magyars that a woman who experiences a craving for salt in the early morning must be a witch, and on no account should her taste be gratified.

Once upon a time, says tradition, a man crept into a witch's tub in order to spy upon the proceedings at a meeting of the uncanny sisterhood.

Shortly thereafter the witch appeared, saddled the tub, and rode it to the place of rendezvous, and on arriving there the man contrived to empty a quantity of salt into the tub. After the revels he was conveyed homewards in the same manner, and showed the salt to his neighbors as proof positive that he had really been present at the meeting. Sometimes, however, salt is used in Hungary as a protection against witches. The threshold of a new house is sprinkled with it, and the doorhinges are smeared with garlic, so that no witch may enter.

The peasants of Russian Esthonia are aware of the potency of salt against witches and their craft. They believe that on St. John's Eve witch-butter is maliciously smeared on the doors of their farm-buildings in order to spread sickness among the cattle. When, therefore, an Esthonian farmer finds this obnoxious butter on his barn-door or elsewhere, he loads his gun with salt and shoots the witch-germs away.

The Hindus have a theory that malignant spirits, or Bhuts, are especially prone to molest women and children immediately after the latter have eaten confectionery and other sweet delicacies.

Indeed, so general is this belief that vendors of sweetmeats among school-children provide their youthful customers each with a pinch of salt to remove the sweet taste from their mouths, and thus afford a safeguard against the ever-watchful Bhuts.

III. THE LATIN WORD "SAL"

Owing to the importance of salt as a relish, its Latin name sal came to be used metaphorically as signifying a savory mental morsel, and, in a general sense, wit or sarcasm. It was formerly maintained by some etymologists that this word had a threefold meaning according to its gender. Thus, when masculine, it has the above signification, but when feminine it means the sea, and only when neuter does it stand for common salt. The characterization of Greece as "the salt of nations" is attributed to Livy, and this is probably the origin of the phrase "Attic salt," meaning delicate, refined wit. The phrase cum grano salis may signify the grain of common sense with which one should receive a seemingly exaggerated report. It may also mean moderation, even as salt is used sparingly as a seasoner of food.

Among the ancients, as with ourselves, Sol and sal, the Sun and salt, were known to be two things essential to the maintenance of life.

Soldiers, officials, and working people were paid either wholly or in part in salt, which was in such general use for this purpose that any sum of money paid for labor or service of whatever kind was termed a salarium, or salary, that is, the wherewithal to obtain one's salt.

Pliny remarked that salt was essential for the complete enjoyment of life, and in confirmation of this statement he commented on the fact that the word sales was employed to express the pleasures of the mind, or a keen appreciation of witty effusions, and, therefore, was associated with the idea of good fellowship and mirth.

A certain mystic significance has been attributed to the three letters composing the word "sal." Thus, the letter S, standing alone, represents or suggests two circles united together, the sun and the moon. It typifies, moreover, the union of things divine and mundane, even as salt partakes of the attributes of each. A, alpha, signifies the beginning of all things; while L is emblematic of something celestial and glorious. S and L represent solar and lunar influences respectively, and the trio of letters stand for an essential substance provided by God for the benefit of his people. In a curious treatise on salt, originally published in 1770, the writer launches forth in impassioned style the most extravagant encomiums upon this substance, which he avers to be the quintessence of the earth. Salt is here characterized as a Treasure of Nature, an Essence of Perfection, and the Paragon of Preservatives. Moreover, whoever possesses salt thereby secures a prime factor of human happiness among material things.

The French people employ the word "salt" metaphorically in several common expressions. Thus, in speaking of the lack of piquancy or pointedness in a dull sermon or address, they say, "There was no salt in that discourse." And of the brilliant productions of a favorite author they remark, "He has sprinkled his writings with salt by handfuls." In like manner they use the term un epigramme salé to denote a cutting sarcasm or raillery. Very apt also is the following definition by an old English writer: "Salt, a pleasaunt and merrie word that maketh folks to laugh and sometime pricketh." The expression "to salt an invoice" signifies to increase the full market value of each article, and corresponds to one use of the French verb saler, to overcharge, and hence to "fleece" or "pluck." Thus the phrase Il me l'a bien salé means "He has charged me an excessive price."

IV. SALT EMPLOYED TO CONFIRM AN OATH

In the records of the Presbytery of Edinburgh, under date of September 20, 1586, is to be found the following description of an oath which Scotch merchants were required to take when on their way to the Baltic:--

Certan merchantis passing to Danskerne (Denmark) and cuming neir Elsinnure, chusing out and quhen they accompted for the payment of the toill of the goods, and that depositioun of ane othe in forme following, viz: Thei present and offer breid and salt to the deponer of the othe, whereon he layis his hand and deponis his conscience and sweiris.

Gypsies likewise sometimes use bread and salt to confirm the solemnity of an oath. An example of this is recorded in the "Pesther Lloyd " of July 1, 1881. A member of a gypsy band in western Hungary had been robbed of a sum of money, and so informed his chief, who summoned the elders of the camp to a council. On an upright cross formed of two poles was placed a piece of bread sprinkled with salt, and upon this each gypsy was required to swear that he was not the thief. The real culprit, refusing to take so solemn an oath, was thus discovered.

Among the Jews the covenant of salt is the most sacred possible. Even at the present time, Arabian princes are wont to signify their ratification of an alliance by sprinkling salt upon bread, meanwhile exclaiming, "I am the friend of thy friends, and the enemy of thine enemies." So likewise there is a common form of request among the Arabs as follows: "For the sake of the bread and salt which are between us, do this or that."

In the East, at the present day, compacts between tribes are still confirmed by salt, and the most solemn pledges are ratified by this substance. During the Indian mutiny of 1857 a chief motive of self-restraint among the Sepoys was the fact that they had sworn by their salt to be loyal to the English queen.

The antiquity of the practice of using salt in confirmation of an oath is shown in the following passage from an ode of the Greek lyric poet Archilochus, who flourished during the early part of the seventh century B. C.:--

Thou hast broken the solemn oath, and hast disgraced the salt and the table.

In the year 1731 the Protestant miners and peasants inhabiting the "salt exchequer lands," prior to their banishment from the country by Leopold, Archbishop of Salzburg, held a meeting in the picturesque village of Schwarzach, and "solemnly ratified their league by the ancient custom of dipping their fingers in salt." The table at which this ceremony took place, and a picture representing the event, are still shown at the Wallner Inn, where the meeting was held.

V. SALT-SPILLING AS AN OMEN

The widespread notion that the spilling of salt produces evil consequences is supposed to have originated in the tradition that Judas overturned a salt-cellar at the Paschal Supper, as portrayed in Leonardo da Vinci's painting. But it appears more probable that the belief is due to the sacred character of salt in early times. Any one having the misfortune to spill salt was formerly supposed to incur the anger of all good spirits, and to be rendered susceptible to the malevolent influences of demons. When, in oriental lands, salt was offered to guests as a token of hospitality, it was accounted a misfortune if any particles were scattered while being so presented, and in such cases a quarrel or dispute was anticipated.

Bishop Hall wrote, in 1627, that when salt fell towards a superstitious guest at dinner, he was wont to exhibit signs of mental agitation, and refused to be comforted until one of the waiters had poured wine in his lap. And in Gayton's "Art of Longevity" we find these lines:--

I have two friends of either sex, which do eat little salt or none, yet are friends too; of both which persons I can truly tell, they are of patience most invincible; whom out of temper no mischance at all can put; no, if towards them the salt should fall.

The Germans have a saying, "Whoever spills salt arouses enmity," and in some places the overthrow of a salt-cellar is thought to be the direct act of the Devil, the peace-disturber. The superstitious Parisian, who may have been the unfortunate cause of such a mishap, is quite ready to adopt this view, and tosses a little of the spilled salt behind him, in order, if possible, to hit the invisible Devil in the eye, which, temporarily at least, prevents him from doing further mischief. This is probably a relic of an ancient idolatrous custom; and salt thus thrown was formerly a kind of sop to Cerberus, an offering to pacify some particular deity. In like manner the natives of Pegu, a province of British Burmah, in the performance of one of their rites in honor of the Devil, are wont to throw food over their left shoulders to conciliate the chief spirit of evil.

When salt was spilled at table the pious Roman was wont to exclaim, "May the gods avert the omen!" and the modern Sicilian in such a case, invokes "the Mother of Light."

Among the Greeks it was customary to present salt to the gods as a thank-offering at the beginning of every meal. Louis Figuier, in "Les merveilles de l'industrie," places these three happenings in the category of ominous mishaps in a Grecian household:(1) the omission of a salt-cellar from among the furnishings of a dinner-table; (2) the falling asleep of one of the guests at a banquet, before the removal of the salt-cellar to make place for the dessert; (3) the overturning of this important vessel. It seems evident, therefore, that the origin of the belief in the ominous character of salt-spilling is of far greater antiquity than is popularly supposed; and Leonardo da Vinci, in portraying Judas as upsetting a salt-cellar, probably had in mind the already well-known portentous significance of such an act. But some observers have failed to discover any trace of a salt-cellar in the original Cenacolo on the refectory wall of the Milanese convent. In the well-known engraving by Raphael Morghen, however, the overthrown salt-cellar is clearly delineated, and the spilled salt is seen issuing from it. An animated discussion on this moot-point enlivened the columns of "Notes and Queries" some years ago.

The following passage is to be found in a work entitled "Hieroglyphica, a Joanne Valeriano" (1586), being a treatise on ancient symbols:--

Alioqui sal amicitiae symbolum fuit, durationis gratia. Corpora enim solidiora facit et diutissime conservat. Unde hospitibus ante alios cibos apponi solitum, quo amicitiae firmitas ac perseverantia significetur. Quare plerique ominosum habent si sal in mensam profundi contigerit. Contra vero faustum si vinum atque id merum effusum sit.

Which has been rendered into English as follows: "Salt was formerly a symbol of friendship, because of its lasting quality. For it makes substances more compact and preserves them for a long time: hence it was usually presented to guests before other food, to signify the abiding strength of friendship. Wherefore many consider it ominous to spill salt on the table, and, on the other hand, propitious to spill wine, especially if unmixed with water."

In Gaule's "Magastromancer" (1652), overturning the salt is mentioned in a list of "superstitious ominations." According to a popular Norwegian belief, one will shed as many tears as may suffice to dissolve the quantity of salt which he has spilled; and in east Yorkshire, also, every grain of spilled salt represents a tear to be shed. Moreover, saltness has been thought to be an essential attribute of tears, and this intimate connection between the two may have given rise to some of the many superstitions connected with salt. In Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in order to avert ill-luck after salt has been spilled, one should not only toss a pinch of the spilled salt over the left shoulder, but should also crawl under a table and come out on the opposite side.

In the "British Apollo" (1708) are these lines:--

We 'el tel you the reason
Why spilling of Salt
Is esteemed such a Fault,
Because it doth ev'rything season.
Th' antiques did opine
'T was of Friendship a sign,
So served it to guests in decorum,
And thought Love decayed,
When the negligent Maid
Let the salt-cellar tumble before them.

In New England the gravity of salt-spilling as an omen, its deplorable severance of friendship's ties, and the necessity for prompt remedial measures, are all fully recognized.

And here the deft toss of the spilled particles over the left shoulder is not always adequate; for in order thoroughly to break the spell, these particles must be thrown on the stove.

Gypsies have a saying, "The salt of strife has fallen."

From the idea of the desecration of a sacred substance, to which allusion has been made, doubtless arose the remarkable superstition that, as a penalty for spilling salt, one must wait outside the gate of Paradise for as many years as there are grains of salt spilled.

In the Lansdowne MSS. 231 (British Museum) occurs this passage:--

The falling of salt is an authentic psagemt of ill-luck, nor can every temper contemn it; nor was the same a grall pgnostic among the ancients of future evil, but a pticular omination concerning the breach of friendship. For salt as incorruptible was ye symbole of friendship, and before ye other service was offered unto yeir guests. But whether salt were not only a symbol of friendship wh man, but also a fig. of amity and recociliation wh God, and was therefore offered in sacrifices, is an higher speculation.

Herbert Spencer affirms that the consciousness which harbors a notion that evil will result from spilling salt is manifestly allied to the consciousness of the savage, and is prone to entertain other superstitious beliefs like those prevalent in barbarous lands. And although idolatry and fetich-worship do not flourish in civilized communities, yet many popular superstitions are akin in nature to the sentiments which prompt the savage to bow down before images of wood or stone.

VI. HELPING TO SALT AT TABLE

In the northern counties of England, and indeed quite generally in Anglican communities, it is reckoned unlucky to be helped to salt at table, and this idea has found expression in the popular couplet, "Help me to salt, help me to sorrow." In a small volume entitled "The Rules of Civility" (London, 1695), translated from the French, and quoted in "Brand's Popular Antiquities," is the following passage:--

Some are so exact they think it uncivil to help anybody that sits by them either with salt or brains. But in my judgment that is a ridiculous scruple, and if your neighbor desires you to furnish him (with salt), you must either take out some with your knife and lay it upon his plate, or if they be more than one, present them with the salt that they may furnish themselves.

In Russia there is a superstitious prejudice against helping one's neighbor to salt at table on account of the liability to quarrels thereby incurred. For in so doing one is thought to have the air of implying, "Well, you have received your allowance of salt, now go away." But if in proffering the salt one smiles amicably, all danger of a quarrel is happily averted, and the act is wholly relieved of its ominous character.

The simple expedient of a second help is commonly regarded as equally effective for this purpose, but it is difficult to imagine whence was derived the alleged potency of such an antidote, which is contrary to the Pythagorean theory of the divine character of unity and the diabolical attributes of the number two.

In many lands, however, it is only common courtesy to help a friend to salt at table; but in Italy this delicate attention was formerly thought to be a mark of undue familiarity, and, when salt was offered by one gentleman to the wife of another, it was a sufficient cause for jealousy and even quarrel.

VII. SALT AS A PROTECTION TO YOUNG INFANTS

The mediaeval Roman Catholic custom of using salt to protect infants from evil prior to their baptism is frequently alluded to in early romantic literature. In an ancient ballad entitled "The King's Daughter," the birth of a child occurs under circumstances which prevent the administration of the rite of baptism. The mother, therefore, exposes the baby in a casket, and is careful to place by its side salt and candles. The words of the ballad are:--

The bairnie she swyl'd in linen so fine,
In a gilded casket she laid it syne,
Mickle saut and light she laid therein,
Cause yet in God's house it had'na been.'

Mr. William G. Black, in his work on Folk-Medicine, says that in some districts of Scotland it was formerly a custom, previous to baptism, to carry some salt around the child "withershins," or backwards,--a procedure which was believed to protect the child from evil during its oftentimes long journey from the house to the church where the ceremony was to be performed. In Marsala the relatives of a new-born child do not sleep the first night, for fear of the appearance of witches. Indeed, a watch is often kept for many nights, or until the child's baptism. A light burns in the room constantly, and an image of some saint is fastened upon the house-door. A rosary and a raveled napkin are attached to the image, and behind the door are placed a jug of salt and a broom. When a witch comes and sees the saint's image and the rosary, she usually goes away at once; but even if these talismans are wanting, the salt, napkin, and broom afford adequate protection. For any witch before entering must count the grains of salt, the threads of the napkin's fringe, and the twigs of which the broom is made. And she never has time enough for these tasks, because she cannot appear before midnight, and must hide herself before the dawn.

This popular belief in the magical power of salt to protect infants from evil, especially in the period between birth and baptism, is exemplified in the following allusion to a foundling in a metrical "History of the Family of Stanley," which dates from the early part of the sixteenth century (Harleian MSS. 541, British Museum): "It was uncrisned, seeming out of doubt, for salt was bound at its neck in a linen clout."

In Sicily, too, it is sometimes customary for the priest to place a little salt in the child's mouth at baptism, thereby imparting wisdom. Hence the popular local saying in regard to a person who is dull of understanding, that the priest put but little salt in his mouth. A similar usage is in vogue in the district of Campine in Belgium. The use of salt at baptism in the Christian Church dates from the fourth century. It was an early practice to place salt, which had been previously blessed, in the infant's mouth, to symbolize the counteraction of the sinfulness of its nature.

So, too, in the baptismal ceremonies of the Church of England in mediaeval times, salt, over which an exorcism had been said, was placed in the child's mouth, and its ears and nostrils were touched with saliva,--practices which became obsolete at about the time of the reign of Henry VIII.

An octagonal font of the fifteenth century, in St. Margaret's Church, Ipswich, Suffolk, has upon one of its sides the figure of an angel bearing a scroll, on which appears a partially illegible inscription containing the words Sal et Saliva.

Thomas Ady, in "A Perfect Discovery of Witches" (London, 1661), says that holy water, properly conjured, was used to keep the Devil in awe, and to prevent his entering churches or dwellings.

With such holy water Satanic influences were kept away from meat and drink, and from "the very salt upon the table."

In the Highlands of Scotland, instead of using salt as an amulet for the protection of young babies, it was customary for watchers to remain constantly by the cradle until the christening. For it was believed that spiteful fairies were wont to carry off healthy infants, leaving in their stead puny specimens of their own elfish offspring;--and infants thus kidnapped were sometimes kept in fairyland for seven years. This well-known popular belief gave rise to the word "changeling," which signifies a "strange, stupid, ugly child left by the fairies in place of a beautiful or charming child that they have stolen away." And inasmuch as baby elves were invariably stunted and of feeble intellect, all idiotic and dwarfish children were thought to be changelings.

From thence a faery the unweeting reft,
There as thou slepst in tender swadling band,
And her base elfin brood there for the left:
Such men do chaungelinges call, so chaunged by fairies' theft.

VIII. SALT AS A MAGICAL SUBSTANCE

The natives of Morocco regard salt as a talisman against evil, and a common amulet among the Neapolitan poor is a bit of rock-salt suspended from the neck. The peasants of the Hartz Mountain region in Germany believe that three grains of salt in a milk-pot will keep witches away from the milk; and to preserve butter from their uncanny influences, it was a custom in the county of Aberdeen, Scotland, some years ago, to put salt on the lid of a churn. In Normandy, also, the peasants are wont to throw a little salt into a vessel containing milk, in order to protect the cow who gave the milk from the influences of witchcraft.

Peculiar notions about the magical properties of salt are common among American negroes. Thus in some regions a new tenant will not move into a furnished house until all objects therein have been thoroughly salted, with a view to the destruction of witch-germs. Another example of the supernatural attributes ascribed to salt is the opinion current among uneducated people in some communities of its potency in casting a spell over obnoxious individuals. For this purpose it is sufficient either to sprinkle salt over the sleeping form of an enemy, or on the grave of one of his ancestors. Another kind of salt-spell in vogue in the south of England consists in throwing a little salt into the fire on three successive Friday nights, while saying these words:

It is not this salt I wish to burn,
It is my lover's heart to turn;
That be may neither rest nor happy be,
Until he comes and speaks to me.

On the third Friday night the disconsolate damsel expects her lover to appear. Every one is familiar with the old saying, "You can catch a bird with your hand, if you first put some salt on its tail." This quaint expression has been thought to imply that, if one can get near enough to a bird to place salt on its tail, its capture is an easy matter. The phrase, however, may be more properly attributed to a belief in the magical properties of salt in casting a spell over the bird. Otherwise any substance mioht be equally effective for the purpose of catching it. The writer remembers having read somewhere an old legend about a young man who playfully threw some salt on the back of a witch sitting next to him at table, and the witch thereupon acquired such an increase of avoirdupois that she was unable to move until the young man obligingly brushed away the salt.

The ancient Teutons believed that the swift flight of birds was caused by certain powerful spirits of the air. Now salt is a foe to ghostly might, imparts weight to bodies, and impedes their motion; therefore the rationale of its operation when placed upon a bird's tail is easily intelligible.

In the Province of Quebec French Canadians sometimes scatter salt about the doors of their stables to prevent those mischievous little imps called lutins from entering and teasing the horses by sticking burrs in their manes and tails. The lutin or gobelin is akin to the Scandinavian household spirit, who is fond of children and horses, and who whips and pinches the former when they are naughty, but caresses them when good. In Marsala, west Sicily, a horse, mule, or donkey, on entering a new stall, is thought to be liable to molestation by fairies. As a precautionary measure, therefore, a little salt is placed on the animal's back, and this is believed to insure freedom from lameness, or other evil resulting from fairy spite. Common salt has long enjoyed a reputation as a means of procuring disenchantment. It was an ingredient of a salve "against nocturnal goblin visitors" used by the Saxons in England, and described in one of their ancient leech-books; while in the annals of folk-medicine are to be found numerous references to its reputed virtues as a magical therapeutic agent. In Scotland, when a person is ailing of some affection whose nature is not apparent, as much salt as can be placed on a sixpence is dissolved in water, and the solution is then applied three times to the soles of the patient's feet, to the palms of his hands, and to his forehead. He is then expected to taste the mixture, a portion of which is thrown over the fire while saying, "Lord, preserve us frae a' skaith."

The Germans of Buffalo valley in central Pennsylvania believe that a boy may be cured of homesickness by placing salt in the hems of his trousers and making him look up the chimney.

In India the natives rub salt and wine on the affected part of the body as a cure for scorpion bites, believing that the success of this treatment is due to the supernatural virtue of the salt in searing away the fiends who caused the pain. An ancient Irish charm of great repute in cases of suspected "fairy-stroke" consisted in placing on a table three equal portions of salt in three parallel rows. The would-be magician then encircles the salt with his arm and repeats the Lord's Prayer thrice over each row. Then, taking the hand of the fairy-struck person, he says over it, "By the power of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, let this disease depart and the spell of evil spirits be broken." Then follows a solemn adjuration and command addressed to the supposed demon, and the charm is complete.

In Bavaria and the Ukraine, in order to ascertain whether a child has been the victim of bewitchment, the mother licks its forehead; and if her sense of taste reveals thereby a marked saline flavor, she is convinced that her child has been under the influence of an evil eye.

In the Swiss canton of Bern a person is believed to be amply fortified against all kinds of spiritual enemies by the simple expedient of carrying a piece of fresh bread and a psalm-book in the right and left coat pockets respectively, provided one is careful to have some rock-salt either in each vest pocket, or inside a briarwood cane upon which three crosses have been cut. In Bohemia a mother seeks to protect her daughter from evil glances by placing a little bread and salt in her pocket; and when a young girl goes out for a walk the mother sprinkles salt on the ground behind her, so that she may not lose her way.

Holy water has been employed in the religious ceremonies of many peoples as a means of purifying both persons and things, and also to keep away demons. Sprinkling and washing with it were important features of the Greek ritual.

The holy water of the Roman Catholic Church is prepared by exorcising and blessing salt and water separately, after which the salt is dissolved in the water and a benediction pronounced upon the mixture. In the Hawaiian ritual, sea-water was sometimes preferred.

A Magyar house-mistress will not give any salt to a woman who may come to the door and ask for it in the early morning, believing that any such would-be borrower is surely a witch; but in order to keep away all witches and hags, she strews salt on the threshold. On St. Lucien's Day neither salt nor fire must be taken out of the house.

Among the Japanese, the mysterious preservative qualities of salt are the source of various superstitions. The mistress of a household will not buy it at night and when purchased in the daytime a small quantity is thrown into the fire in order to prevent discord in the family, and to avert misfortune generally.

In Scotland salt was formerly in high repute as a charm, and the salt-box was the first chattel to be removed to a new dwelling. When Robert Burns, in the year 1789, was about to occupy a new house at Ellisland, he was escorted on his route thither along the banks of the river Nith by a procession of relatives, and in their midst was borne a bowl of salt resting on the family Bible.

In some places in the north of England the giving away of salt is a dangerous procedure; for if the salt thus given comes into the possession of an evil-wisher, it places the donor entirely in the power of such a person.

In upper Egypt, previous to the setting out of a caravan, it is customary for the native women to throw salt on burning coals, which are carried in earthen vessels and set down before the different loads. While so doing they exclaim, "May you be blessed in going and coming," and such incantations they believe render inert all the machinations of evil spirits.

IX. MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS ON SALT

Among the peasants of the Spanish province of Andalusia the word "salt" is synonymous with gracefulness and charm of manner, and no more endearing or flattering language can be used in addressing a woman, whether wife or sweetheart, than to call her "the salt-box of my love." The phrase "May you be well salted" is also current as an expression of affectionate regard.

Scotch fishermen have a traditional custom of salting their nets "for luck, and they also sometimes throw a little salt into the sea "to blind the fairies."

In the Isle of Man the interchange of salt is regarded as indispensable to every business transaction, while Manx beggars have even been known to refuse an alms if proffered without it.

In Syracuse, Sicily, salt has won distinction as a symbol of wisdom through a curious misinterpretation of the words sedes sapientiae of the so-called Lauretane litany; these words becoming in the mouths of the people sale e sapienza, salt and wisdom.

Salt and bread, representing the necessaries of life, are the first articles taken into the dwelling of a newly married pair in Russia. And in Pomerania, at the close of a wedding breakfast, a servant carries about a plate containing salt, upon which the guests place presents of money.

In olden times bread and salt were reckoned the simplest and most indispensable articles of diet, and were offered to guests as a guarantee of hospitality and friendliness. The universal reputation of salt as a symbol of good-will is shown in the proverbs and current sayings of many nations. Cicero, in his treatise on Friendship, wrote that age increased the value of friendships, even as it improved the quality of certain wines; and he added further that there was truth in the proverb, "Many pecks of salt must be eaten together to bring friendship to perfection."

Inasmuch as salt is a necessary and wholesome article of diet, a generous use of it is reckoned beneficial. Evan Marlett Boddy, F. R. C. S., in his "History of Salt," p. 78, comments with some asperity on the custom, prevalent at the tables of English gentlefolk, of placing salt in the tiniest receptacles, as if it were a most expensive substance. He regards it as anything but edifying "to see the host and his guests, in the most finical, grotesque manner, help themselves to the almost infinitesimal quantities of salt, as if it were a mark of good breeding and delicacy." On the contrary, he continues, such stupid customs of "good society" are truly indicative of mental weakness and profound ignorance.

In a treatise on the "Dignity and Utility of Salt," by Jean de Marcounille Percheron, Paris, 1584, this mineral is likened in value to the four elements recognized by the ancients,--earth, air, fire, and water; and indeed, on account of its importance for the maintenance of health in the animal economy, salt has been termed a "fifth element." So highly did the Thracians of old prize this commodity that they bartered slaves in exchange for it, whence originated the phrase Sale emptum mancipium.

The Egyptian geographer, Cosmas, stated that a salt currency was in use in Africa in the sixth century; and Marco Polo wrote that salt was a common medium of exchange among certain Asiatic peoples in the thirteenth century. In Tibet, for example, pieces of salt shaped in a mould, and weighing about half a pound each, served as small change; eighty such pieces were equal in value to a saggio of fine gold, corresponding to the Roman solidus, worth about three dollars. Salt was, moreover, used as money at this time in Yun-Nan and other provinces of southwestern China.

Felix Dubois, in his "Timbuctoo the Mysterious," p. 123, comments on the rarity of salt in the interior of the Soudan, and says that it is the most valuable commodity of that region, the true gold of the Soudanese. The bulk of the salt supply of Timbuctoo comes from the salt mines of Taudeny, which are situated in the great Sahara desert, some three hundred miles away to the north. Here the salt is found in abundance beneath a scanty layer of sand, and is dug up in lumps and fashioned into blocks. Small pieces of this rock-salt are useful to the traveler as money, and are readily accepted as such by the Soudanese merchants.

The camels of southern Mongolia require a certain amount of salt in order to remain in good condition. Instinctively, therefore, they browse upon the saline efflorescence which is found on the grassy plains or steppes of Asia. Baron Humboldt, in his "Aspects of Nature" (Berlin, 1808), wrote that these plains were covered with juicy, evergreen soda plants; and that many of them glistened from afar with flakes of exuded salt, which much resembled newly fallen snow. When camels do not find this efflorescence, they sometimes show their craving for its saline flavor by taking white stones in their mouths, supposing them to be lumps of salt.

Owing to the universality of its use, salt has been termed the "cosmopolitan condiment." The craving for this substance is not confined to man, but is shared by the lower animals, and its hygienic value for horses and cows is well known. Wild animals travel long distances over deserts and prairies, or through swamps and jungles, to reach "salt-licks."

It may be that this natural craving for salt, which is common to man and beast, may have suggested a custom of etiquette in Abyssinia. For when a native of that country desires to pay an especially delicate attention to a friend or guest, he produces a piece of rocksalt, and graciously permits the latter to lick it with his tongue; a custom not a whit more ridiculous than the ceremonious offering of snuff and the social sneeze of modern civilization.

In certain portions of the Dark Continent salt is esteemed a great luxury, and is relished by native children quite as keenly as candy in more favored lands.

In the region of Accra, on the coast of Guinea, salt is said to rank next to gold in value; and according to Mungo Park, among the Mandingos and Bambarras, west African tribes, whose members are unusually intelligent, the phrase, "flavoring one's food with salt," implies the possession of wealth.

The Namaquas, inhabitants of the Hottentot country, share so little the sentiments of their neighbors regarding salt that they consider it a superfluous article having no value whatever.

About the year 1830 there appeared in England a volume by a certain Doctor Howard, with the following curious title: "Salt, the forbidden fruit or food; and the chief cause of diseases of the body and mind of man and of animals, as taught by the ancient Egyptian priests and wise men and by scripture, in accordance with the author's experience of many years."

As may well be imagined from its title, this book treats of salt as a most obnoxious substance, abstinence from which as an article of diet is essential to the maintenance of health.

The use of salt as an article of food was, moreover, thought to render one irascible and melancholic, and in illustration of this view may be quoted the following passage from "Euphues and his England," by John Lyly, Maister of Arte (1580):--

In sooth, gentlemen, I seldome eate salte for feare of anger, and if you give me in token that I want wit, then will you make cholericke before I eate it; for women, be they never so foolish, would ever be thought wise.

I staied not long for mine answer, but as well quickened by her former talke as desirous to cry quittance for her present tongue, said thus: "If to eat store of salt, cause one to fret; and to have no salt, signifies lack of wit, then do you cause me to marvel, that eating no salt, you are so captious; and loving no salt, you are so wise, when indeed so much wit is sufficient for a woman, as when she is in the raine can warne her to come out of it."

In a recent article in the "Journal of Hygiene," the writer affirms that the general belief in the necessity of the use of salt for the maintenance of health is mischievous; for many people, in their zeal to make the most of a good thing, are wont to eat salt as a seasoner of all kinds of food. Thus an abnormal craving for the saline flavor is acquired and the condiment is used in excess, thereby unduly taxing the secretory organs, whereas in reality but a small quantity of salt is requisite. Persons addicted to the so-called "salt habit" have a perverted taste, and are naturally total failures as epicures; for how can any one assume to be a dainty feeder who disguises the true flavor of every dish, and whose palate refuses to be tickled by the choicest morsels, unless these smack strongly of salt?

But even in our times the use of salt as a relish is sometimes deprecated as unnecessary, if not positively harmful. Thus it is argued that this substance arrests or retards the physiological processes of disintegration and renewal of the cells which compose the tissues of the living body, processes essential to the maintenance of life and health.

A recent advocate of this theory maintains that the fondness for salt shown by some domesticated animals is due to an acquired taste rather than to an instinctive craving; for dogs and cats easily grow to like such artificial products as ice-cream and beer. As to the occasional visits of wild animals to salt-licks, the fact that such visits are comparatively infrequent has been thought to prove that these animals periodically require the medicinal effects of saline waters, on the same principle which leads people of wealth and fashion to visit certain spas of Europe or America. The writer above mentioned suggests that, whereas each article of food has its own individual flavor, the addition of salt makes them all taste alike. And if an inveterate user of salt will forego this favorite condiment for a month, he will then for the first time be enabled properly to appreciate the true flavors of meats and vegetables.

In the "Revelations of Egyptian Mysteries," by Robert Howard, the use of salt as a relish is characterized as an infringement of that law of nature which forbids animals to partake of mineral substances as food. History may, indeed, vouch for the antiquity of the custom, but can furnish no proof of its propriety. Indeed, the writer alleges in the above work that salt is a most pernicious substance, and the direct cause of many ills.

The idea conveyed by the phrase, "Enough is as good as a feast," applies in full force to the use of salt as a condiment, for an excess of this substance in one's food certainly spoils its flavor. According to one version of a Roumanian forest-myth, a prince, while following the chase, came upon a beautiful laurel-tree, whose branches were of a golden hue. This tree so pleased his fancy that he determined to have his dinner beneath its shade, and gave orders to that effect. Preparations were made accordingly; but during the temporary absence of the cook, a fair maiden emerged from the tree and streived a quantity of salt upon the viands, after which she reentered the tree, which closed over her. When the prince returned and began eating his dinner, he scolded the cook for using too much salt, and the cook quite naturally protested his innocence.

On the following day the same thing occurred, and the prince thereupon determined to keep watch, in order if possible to detect the culprit. On the third day, when the maiden came forth from the tree on mischief bent, the prince caught her and carried her away, and she became his loyal wife.

This section may be appropriately concluded with the following translation of a Roman legend illustrating the value of common salt as an article of food:

The Value of Salt. A Roman Folk-tale.

There was once a king who had three daughters, and he was very anxious to know which of them loved him most; he tried them in various ways, and it always seemed as if the youngest daughter came out best by the test. Yet he was never satisfied, because he was prepossessed with the idea that the elder ones loved him most.

One day he thought he would settle the matter once for all, by asking each separately how much she loved him. So he called the eldest by herself, and asked her how much she loved him.

"As much as the bread we eat," was her reply; and he said within himself, "She must, as I thought, love me the most of all; for bread is the first necessary of our existence, without which we cannot live. She means, therefore, that she loves me so much she could not live without me."

Then he called the second daughter by herself, and said to her, "How much do you love me? "

And she answered, "As much as wine."

"That is a good answer too," said the king to himself. "It is true she does not seem to love me quite so much as the eldest; but still, scarcely can one live without wine, so that there is not much difference."

Then he called the youngest by herself, and said to her, "And you, how much do you love me? "

And she answered, "As much as salt."

Then the king said, "What a contemptible comparison! She only loves me as much as the cheapest and commonest thing that comes to the table. This is as much as to say, she doesn't love me at all. I always thought it was so. I will never see her again."

Then he ordered that a wing of the palace should be shut up from the rest, where she should be served with everything belonging to her condition in life, but where she should live by herself apart, and never come near him.

Here she lived, then, all alone. But though her father fancied she did not care for him, she pined so much at being kept away from him, that at last she was worn out, and could bear it no longer.

The room that had been given her had no windows on the street, that she might not have the amusement of seeing what was going on in the town, but they looked upon an inner court-yard. Here she sometimes saw the cook come out and wash vegetables at the fountain.

"Cook, cook!" she called one day, as she saw him pass thus under the window.

The cook looked up with a good-natured face, which gave her encouragement.

"Don't you think, cook, I must be very lonely and miserable up here all alone?"

"Yes, Signorina," he replied; "I often think I should like to help you to get out; but I dare not think of it, the king would be so angry."

"No, I don't want you to do anything to disobey the king," answered the princess; "but would you really do me a favor, which would make me very grateful indeed?"

"Oh, yes, Signorina, anything which I can do without disobeying the king," replied the faithful servant.

"Then this is it," said the princess. "Will you just oblige me so far as to cook papa's dinner to-day without any salt in anything? Not the least grain in anything at all. Let it be as good a dinner as you like, but no salt in anything. Will you do that?"

"I see," replied the cook, with a knowing nod. "Yes, depend on me, I will do it."

That day at dinner the king had no salt in the soup, no salt in the boiled meat, no salt in the roast, no salt in the fried.

"What is the meaning of this?" said the king, as he pushed dish after dish away from him. "There is not a single thing I can eat to-day. I don't know what they have done to everything, but there is not a single thing that has got the least taste. Let the cook be called."

So the cook came before him.

"What have you done to the victuals to-day?" said the king sternly. "You have sent up a lot of dishes, and no one alive can tell one from another. They are all of them exactly alike, and there is not one of them can be eaten. Speak!?

The cook answered:--

"Hearing your Majesty say that salt was the commonest thing that comes to table, and altogether so worthless and contemptible, I considered in my mind whether it was a thing that at all deserved to be served up to the table of the king; and, judging that it was not worthy, I abolished it from the king's kitchen, and dressed all the meats without it. Barring this, the dishes are the same that are sent every day to the table of the king."

Then the king understood the value of salt, and he comprehended how great was the love of his youngest child for him; so he sent and had her apartment opened, and called her to him, never to go away any more.