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Title: Moon Lore
Author: Harley, Timothy
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Moon Lore" ***

This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document.

[Note:  the original text had two footnotes 160 and two
footnotes 396.  I have indicated these by naming them 160a and b,
and 396a and b.  In the Index, I changed the spelling of
"Aglonquins" to "Algonquins".  All other spelling remains the same.]

[Illustration: moon01]

_From Domingo Gonsales [A.D. 1638]_
_See page_ 46.




"And when the clear moon, with its soothing influences, rises full
in my view,--from the wall-like rocks, out of the damp underwood,
the silvery forms of past ages hover up to me, and soften the
austere pleasure of contemplation."

_Goethe's "Faust." Hayward's Translation, London_, 1855,
_p_. 100.



"I beheld the moon walking in brightness."--_Job_ xxxi. 26.

"The moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained."--_Psalm_
viii. 3.

"Who is she that looketh forth, fair as the moon?"--_Solomon's
Song_ vi. 10.

"The precious things put forth by the moon."--_Deuteronomy_
xxxiii. 14.

"Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale."--Addison's _Ode_.

"In fall-orbed glory, yonder moon Divine
Rolls through the dark-blue depths."--Southey's _Thalaba_.

"Queen of the silver bow! by thy pale beam,
     Alone and pensive, I delight to stray,
And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream,
     Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way;
And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light
     Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast:
And oft I think-fair planet of the night--
     That in thy orb the wretched may have rest;
The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go--
     Released by death-to thy benignant sphere;
And the sad children of despair and woe
     Forget in thee their cup of sorrow here.
Oh that I soon may reach thy world serene,
     Poor wearied pilgrim in this toiling scene!"
          --_Charlotte Smith_.


This work is a contribution to light literature, and to the literature
of light. Though a monograph, it is also a medley.

The first part is mythological and mirthsome. It is the original
nucleus around which the other parts have gathered. Some years
since, the writer was led to investigate the world-wide myth of the
Man in the Moon, in its legendary and ludicrous aspects; and one
study being a stepping-stone to another, the ball was enlarged as it

The second part, dealing with moon-worship, is designed to show
that anthropomorphism and sexuality have been the principal factors
in that idolatry which in all ages has paid homage to the hosts of
heaven, as _heaved_ above the aspiring worshipper. Man adores
what he regards as higher than he. And if the moon is supposed to
affect his tides, that body becomes his water-god.

The third part treats of lunar superstitions, many of which yet live in
the vagaries which sour and shade our modern sweetness and light.

The fourth and final part is a literary essay on lunar inhabitation,
presenting _in nuce_ the present state of the enigma of "the plurality
of worlds."

Of the imperfections of his production the author is partly
conscious. Not _wholly_ so; for others see us often more
advantageously than we see ourselves. But a hope is cherished that
this work--a compendium of lunar literature in its least scientific
branches--may win a welcome which shall constitute the worker's
richest reward. To the innumerable writers who are quoted, the
indebtedness felt is inexpressible.


1     Introduction                                               1
2     The Man in the Moon                                        5
3     The Woman in the Moon                                     53
4     The Hare in the Moon                                      60
5     The Toad in the Moon                                      69
6     Other Moon Myths                                          71

1     Introduction                                              77
2     The Moon Mostly a Male Deity                              82
3     The Moon a World-Wide Deity                               87
4     The Moon a Water Deity                                   132

1     Introduction                                             145
2     Lunar Fancies                                            152
3     Lunar Influences                                         175


_APPENDIX_                                                     259
_NOTES_                                                        263
_INDEX_                                                        285


1     Voyaging to the Moon                          _Frontispiece_
      From Domingo Gonsales, 1638
2     The Man in the Moon                                        9
      From Hone's _Facetiae and Miscellanies_, 1821.
      Drawn by George Cruikshank.
3     "The Man in the Moon Drinks Claret"                       12
      (From the _Bagford Ballads_, ii, 119, Brit. Mus.)
4     "Who'll Smoak with the Man in the Moon?"                  13
      (Banks Collection in Brit. Mus.)
5     The Man in the Moon                                       22
      From Ludwig Richter's _Der Familienshatz_, Leipzig, p. 25
6     Seal                                                      28
      In the _Archaeological Journal_ for March, 1848, p. 68
7     Representation of the Sabbath-Breaker in Gyffyn Church,
      Near Conway                                               32
      From Baring-Gould's _Curious Myths_
8     The Hare in the Moon                                      63
      From Colin de Plancy's _Dictionnaire Infernal_



With the invention of the telescope came an epoch in human
history. To Hans Lippershey, a Dutch optician, is accorded the
honour of having constructed the first astronomical telescope, which
he made so early as the 2nd of October, 1608. Galileo, hearing of
this new wonder, set to work, and produced and improved
instrument, which he carried in triumph to Venice, where it
occasioned the intensest delight. Sir David Brewster tells us that
"the interest which the exhibition of the telescope excited at Venice
did not soon subside: Sirturi describes it as amounting to frenzy.
When he himself had succeeded in making one of these instruments,
he ascended the tower of St. Mark, where he might use it without
molestation. He was recognised, however, by a crowd in the street,
and such was the eagerness of their curiosity, that they took
possession of the wondrous tube, and detained the impatient
philosopher for several hours till they had successively witnessed its
effects." [1] it was in May, 1609, that Galileo turned his telescope
on the moon. "The first observations of Galileo," says Flammarion,
"did not make less noise than the discovery of America; many saw
in them another discovery of a new world much more interesting
than America, as it was beyond the earth. It is one of the most
curious episodes of history, that of the prodigious excitement which
was caused by the unveiling of the world of the moon." [2] Nor are
we astonished at their astonishment when they beheld mountains
which have since been found to be from 15,000 to 26,000 feet in
height--highlands of the moon indeed--far higher in proportion to
the moon's diameter than any elevations on the earth; when they saw
the surface of the satellite scooped out into deep valleys, or spread
over with vast walled plains from 130 to 140 miles across. No
wonder that the followers of Aristotle resented the explosion of their
preconceived beliefs; for their master had taught that the moon was
perfectly spherical and smooth, and that the spots were merely
reflections of our own mountains. Other ancient philosophers had
said that these patches were shadows of opaque bodies floating
between the sun and the moon. But to the credit of Democritus be it
remembered that he propounded the opinion that the spots were
diversities or inequalities upon the lunar surface; and thus
anticipated by twenty centuries the disclosures of the telescope. The
invention of this invaluable appliance we have regarded as marking
a great modern epoch; and what is usually written on the moon is
mainly a summary of results obtained through telescopic
observation, aided by other apparatus, and conducted by learned
men. We now purpose to go back to the ages when there were
neither reflectors nor refractors in existence; and to travel beyond
the bounds of ascertained fact into the regions of fiction, where
abide the shades of superstition and the dreamy forms of myth.
Having promised a contribution to light literature, we shall give to
fancy a free rein, and levy taxes upon poets and story-tellers, wits
and humorists wherever they may be of service. Much will have to
be said, in the first place, of the man in the moon, whom we must
view as he has been manifested in the mask of mirth, and also in the
mirror of mythology. Then we shall present the woman in the moon,
who is less known than the immortal man. Next a hare will be
started; afterwards a frog, and other objects; and when we reach the
end of our excursion, if we mistake not, it will be confessed that the
moon has created more merriment, more marvel, and more mystery,
than all of the other orbs taken together.

But before we forget the fair moon in the society of its famous man,
let us soothe our spirits in sweet oblivion of discussions and
dissertations, while we survey its argentine glories with poetic
rapture. Like Shelley, we are all in love with

     "That orbèd maiden, with white fire laden,
     Whom mortals call the moon." (_The Cloud_.)

Our little loves, who take the lowest seats in the domestic
synagogue, if they cannot have the moon by crying for it, will rush
out, when they ought to be in bed, and chant,

     "Boys and girls come out to play,
     The moon doth shine as bright as day."

The young ladies of the family, without a tincture of affectation,
will languish as they gaze on the lovely Luna. Not, as a grumpy,
grisly old bear of a bachelor once said, "Because there's a man in
it!" No; the precious pets are fond of moonlight rather because they
are the daughters of Eve. They are in sympathy with all that is
bright and beautiful in the heavens above, and in the earth beneath;
and it has even been suspected that the only reason why they ever
assume that invisible round-about called crinoline is that, like the
moon, they may move in a circle. Our greatest men, likewise, are
susceptible to Luna's blandishments. In proof of this we may
produce a story told by Mark Lemon, at one time the able editor of
Punch. By the way, an irrepressible propensity to play upon words
has reminded some one that punch is always improved by the
essence of lemon. But this we leave to the bibulous, and go on with
the story. Lord Brougham, speaking of the salary attached to a new
judgeship, said it was all moonshine. Lord Lyndhurst, in his dry and
waggish way, remarked, "May be so, my Lord Harry; but I have a
strong notion that, moonshine though it be, you would like to see
the _first quarter_ of it." [3] That Hibernian was a discriminating
admirer of the moon who said that the sun was a coward, because he
always went away as soon as it began to grow dark, and never came
back till it was light again; while the blessed moon stayed with us
through the forsaken night. And now, feeling refreshed with these
exhilarating meditations, we, for awhile, leave this lovable orb to
those astronomical stars who have studied the heavens from their
earliest history; and hasten to make ourselves acquainted with the
proper study of mankind, the ludicrous and legendary lunar man.


We must not be misunderstood. By the man in the moon we do not
mean any public tavern, or gin-palace, displaying that singular sign.
The last inn of that name known to us in London stands in a narrow
passage of that fashionable promenade called Regent Street, close to
Piccadilly. Nor do we intend by the man in the moon the silvery
individual who pays the election expenses, so long as the elector
votes his ticket. Neither do we mean the mooney, or mad fellow
who is too fond of the cup which cheers and then inebriates; nor
even one who goes mooning round the world without a plan or
purpose. No; if we are not too scientific, we are too straightforward
to be allured by any such false lights as these. By the man in the
moon we mean none other than that illustrious personage, whose
shining countenance may be beheld many a night, clouds and fogs
permitting, beaming good-naturedly on the dark earth, and singing,
in the language of a lyric bard,

     "The moon is out to-night, love,
          Meet me with a smile."

But some sceptic may assail us with a note of interrogation, saying,
"Is there a man in the moon?" "Why, of course, there is!" Those
who have misgivings should ask a sailor; he knows, for the punsters
assure us that he has been to _sea_. Or let them ask any _lunatic_;
he should know, for he has been so _struck_ with his acquaintance,
that he has adopted the man's name. Or ask any little girl in the
nursery, and she will recite, with sweet simplicity, how

          "The man in the moon
          Came down too soon,
     And asked the way to Norwich."

The darling may not understand why he sought that venerable city,
nor whether he ever arrived there, but she knows very well that

          "He went by the south,
          And burnt his mouth
     With eating hot pease porridge."

But it is useless to inquire of any stupid joker, for he will idly say
that there is no such man there, because, forsooth, a certain single
woman who was sent to the moon came back again, which she
would never have done if a man had been there with whom she
could have married and remained, Nor should any one be misled by
those blind guides who darkly hint that it is all moonshine. There is
not an Indian moonshee, nor a citizen of the Celestial Empire, some
of whose ancestors came from the nocturnal orb, who does not
know better than that. Perhaps the wisest course is to inquire within.
Have not we all frequently affirmed that we knew no more about
certain inscrutable matters than the man in the moon? Now we
would never have committed ourselves to such a comparison had
we not been sure that the said man was a veritable and creditable,
though somewhat uninstructed person. But our feelings ought not to
be wrought upon in this way. We "had rather be a dog, and bay the
moon, than such a Roman" as is not at least distantly acquainted
with that brilliant character in high life who careers so
conspicuously amid the constellations which constitute the upper
ten thousand of super-mundane society. And now some inquisitive
individual may be impatient to interrupt our eloquence with the
question, "What are you going to make of the man in the moon?"
Well, we are not going to make anything of him. For, first, he is a
man; therefore incapable of improvement. Secondly, he is in the
moon, and that is out of our reach. [*] All that we can promise just
now is, to furnish a few particulars of the man himself; some
account of calls which he is reported to have made to his friends
here below; and also some account of visits which his friends on
earth have paid him in return.

[*] Besides, as old John Lilly says in the prologue to his _Endymion_
(1591), "There liveth none under the sunne, that knows what to
make of the man in the moone."

We know something of his residence, whenever he is at home: what
do we know of the man? We have been annoyed at finding his lofty
name desecrated to base uses. If "imagination may trace the noble
dust of Alexander, till he find it stopping a bung-hole," literature
traces the man in the moon, and discovers him pressed into the
meanest services. Our readers need not be disquieted with details;
though our own equanimity has been sorely disturbed as we have
seen scribblers dragging from the skies a "name at which the world
grows pale, to point a moral, or adorn a tale." Political squibs, paltry
chapbooks, puny satires, and penny imbecilities, too numerous for
mention here, with an occasional publication of merit, have been
printed and sold at the expense of the man in the moon. For the sake
of the curious we place the titles and dates of some of these in an
appendix and pass on. We have not learned very many particulars
relating to the domestic habits or personal character of the man in
the moon, consequently our smallest biographical contributions will
be thankfully received. We must not be pressed for his photograph,
at present. We certainly wish it could have been procured; but
though photography has taken some splendid views of the

[Illustration: moon02]

_Geo. Cruikshank_.    Hone's "_Facetiae_," 1821.

     "If Caesar can hide the sun with a blanket, or put the moon
     in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light" (_Cymbeline_).

face of the moon, it has not yet produced any perfect picture of the
physiognomy of the man. It should always be borne in mind that, as
Stilpo says in the old play of _Timon_, written about 1600, "The
man in the moone is not in the moone superficially, although he bee
in the moone (as the Greekes will have it) catapodially,
specificatively, and quidditatively." [4] This beautiful language, let
us explain for the behoof of any foreign reader, simply means that
he is not always where we can get at him; and therefore his
venerable visage is missing from our celestial portrait gallery. One
fact we have found out, which we fear will ripple the pure water
placidity of some of our best friends; but the truth must be told.

     "Our man in the moon drinks clarret,
     With powder-beef, turnep, and carret.
     If he doth so, why should not you
     Drink until the sky looks blew?" [5]

Another old ballad runs:

     "The man in the moon drinks claret,
          But he is a dull Jack-a-Dandy;
     Would he know a sheep's head from a carrot,
          He should learn to drink cyder and brandy."

In a _Jest Book of the Seventeenth Century_ we came across the
following story: "A company of gentlemen coming into a tavern,
whose signe was the Moone, called for a quart of sacke. The drawer
told them they had none; whereat the gentlemen wondring were told
by the drawer that the man in the moon always drunke claret." [6]
Several astronomers assert the absence of water in the moon; if this
be the case, what is the poor man to drink? Still, it is an
unsatisfactory announcement to us all; for we are afraid that it is the
claret which makes him look so red in the face sometimes when he
is full, and gets a little fogged. We have ourselves seen

[Illustration: moon03]

"_Bagford Ballads_," ii. 119.

him actually what sailors call "half-seas over," when we have been
in mid-Atlantic. We only hope that he imbibes nothing stronger,
though it is said that moonlight is but another name for smuggled
spirits. The lord of Cynthia must not be too hastily suspected, for, at
most, the moon fills her horn but once a month. Still, the earth itself
being so invariably sober, its satellite, like Caesar's wife, should be
above suspicion. We therefore hope that our lunar hero may yet take
a ribbon of sky-blue from the milky way, and become a staunch
abstainer; if only for example's sake.

Some old authors and artists have represented the

[Illustration: moon04]


man in the moon as an inveterate smoker, which habit surprises us,
who supposed him to be

     "Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot
     Which men call Earth,"

as the magnificent Milton has it. His tobacco must be bird's-eye, as
he takes a bird's-eye view of things; and his pipe is presumably a
meer-sham, whence his "sable clouds turn forth their silver lining on
the night." Smoking, without doubt, is a bad practice, especially
when the clay is choked or the weed is worthless; but fuming
against smokers we take to be infinitely worse.

We are better pleased to learn that the man in the moon is a poet.
Possibly some uninspired groveller, who has never climbed
Parnassus, nor drunk of the Castalian spring, may murmur that this
is very likely, for that all poetry is "moonstruck madness." Alas if
such an antediluvian barbarian be permitted to "revisit thus the
glimpses of the moon, making night hideous" as he mutters his
horrid blasphemy! We, however, take a nobler view of the matter.
To us the music of the spheres is exalting as it is exalted; and the
music of earth is a "sphere-descended maid, friend of pleasure,
wisdom's aid." We are therefore disposed to hear the following
lines, which have been handed down for publication. Their title is
autobiographical, and, for that reason, they are slightly egotistical.


     "From my palace of light I look down upon earth,
     When the tiny stars are twinkling round me;
     Though centuries old, I am now as bright
     As when at my birth Old Adam found me.
     Oh! the strange sights that I have seen,
     Since earth first wore her garment of green!
     King after king has been toppled down,
     And red-handed anarchy's worn the crown!
     From the world that's beneath me I crave not a boon,
     For a shrewd old fellow's the Man in the Moon.
     And I looked on 'mid the watery strife,
     When the world was deluged and all was lost
     Save one blessed vessel, preserver of life,
     Which rode on through safety, though tempest tost.
     I have seen crime clothed in ermine and gold,
     And virtue shuddering in winter's cold.
     I have seen the hypocrite blandly smile,
     While straightforward honesty starved the while.
     Oh! the strange sights that I have seen,
     Since earth first wore her garment of green!
     I have gazed on the coronet decking the brow
     Of the villain who, breathing affection's vow,
     Hath poisoned the ear of the credulous maiden,
     Then left her to pine with heart grief laden.
     Oh! oh! if this, then, be the world, say I,
     I'll keep to my home in the clear blue sky;
     Still to dwell in my planet I crave as a boon,
     For the earth ne'er will do for the Man in the Moon." [7]

This effusion is not excessively flattering to our "great globe," and
"all which it inherit"; and we surmise that the author was in a
misanthropic mood when it was written. Yet it is serviceable
sometimes to see ourselves as others see us. On the other hand, we
have but little liking for those who "hope to merit heaven by making
earth a hell," in any sense. We prefer to believe that the tide is
rising though the waves recede, and that our dark world is waxing
towards the full-orbed glory "to which the whole creation moves."

Here for the present we part company with the man in the moon as
material for amusement, that we may track him through the mythic
maze, where, in well-nigh every language, he has left some traces of
his existence. As there is a side of the moon which we have never
seen, and according to Laplace never shall see, there is also an
aspect of the matter in hand that remains to be traversed, if we
would circumambulate its entire extent. Our subject must now be
viewed in the magic mirror of mythology. The antiquarian Ritson
shall state the question to be brought before our honourable house of
inquiry. He denominates the man in the moon "an imaginary being,
the subject of perhaps one of the most ancient, as well as one of the
most popular, superstitions of the world." [8] And as we must
explore the vestiges of antiquity, Asiatic and European, African and
American, and even Polynesian, we bespeak patient forbearance and
attention. One little particular we may partly clear up at once,
though it will meet us again in another connection. It will serve as a
sidelight to our legendary scenes. In English, French, Italian, Latin,
and Greek, the moon is feminine; but in all the Teutonic tongues the
moon is masculine. Which of the twain is its true gender? We go
back to the Sanskrit for an answer. Professor Max Müller rightly
says, "It is no longer denied that for throwing light on some of the
darkest problems that have to be solved by the student of language,
nothing is so useful as a critical study of Sanskrit." [9] Here the
word for the moon is _mâs_, which is masculine. Mark how even
what Hamlet calls "words, words, words" lend their weight and
value to the adjustment of this great argument. The very moon is
masculine, and, like Wordsworth's child, is "father of the man."

If a bisexous moon seem an anomaly, perhaps the suggestion of
Jamieson will account for the hermaphrodism: "The moon, it has
been said, was viewed as of the masculine gender in respect of the
earth, whose husband he was supposed to be; but as a female in
relation to the sun, as being his spouse." [10] Here, also, we find a
clue to the origin of this myth. If modern science, discovering the
moon's inferiority to the sun, call the former feminine, ancient
nescience, supposing the sun to be inferior to the moon, called the
latter masculine. The sun, incomparable in splendour, invariable in
aspect and motion, to the unaided eye immaculate in surface, too
dazzling to permit prolonged observation, and shining in the
daytime, when the mind was occupied with the duties of pastoral,
agricultural, or commercial life, was to the ancient simply an object
of wonder as a glory, and of worship as a god. The moon, on the
contrary, whose mildness of lustre enticed attention, whose phases
were an embodiment of change, whose strange spots seemed
shadowy pictures of things and beings terrestrial, whose appearance
amid the darkness of night was so welcome, and who came to men
susceptible, from the influences of quiet and gloom, of superstitious
imaginings, from the very beginning grew into a familiar spirit of
kindred form with their own, and though regarded as the
subordinate and wife of the sun, was reverenced as the superior and
husband of the earth. With the transmission of this myth began its
transmutation. From the moon being a man, it became a man's
abode: with some it was the world whence human spirits came; with
others it was the final home whither human spirits returned. Then it
grew into a penal colony, to which egregious offenders were
transported; or prison cage, in which, behind bars of light, miserable
sinners were to be exposed to all eternity, as a warning to the
excellent of the earth. One thing is certain, namely, that, during
some phases, the moon's surface strikingly resembles a man's
countenance. We usually represent the sun and the moon with the
faces of men; and in the latter case the task is not difficult. Some
would say that the moon is so drawn to reproduce some lunar deity:
it would be more correct to say that the lunar deity was created
through this human likeness. Sir Thomas Browne remarks, "The sun
and moon are usually described with human faces: whether herein
there be not a pagan imitation, and those visages at first implied
Apollo and Diana, we may make some doubt." [11] Brand, in
quoting Browne, adds, "Butler asks a shrewd question on this head,
which I do not remember to have seen solved:--

     "Tell me but what's the natural cause,
     Why on a Sign no Painter draws
     The _Full Moon_ ever, but the _Half_?"
     (Hudibras, B. II., c. iii.) [12]

Another factor in the formation of our moon-myth was the
anthropomorphism which sees something manlike in everything, not
only in the anthropoid apes, where we may find a resemblance more
faithful than flattering, but also in the mountains and hills, rivers
and seas of earth, and in the planets and constellations of heaven.
Anthropomorphism was but a species of personification, which also
metamorphosed the firmament into a menagerie of lions and bears,
with a variety of birds, beasts, and fishes. Dr. Wagner writes: "The
sun, moon, and stars, clouds and mists, storms and tempests,
appeared to be higher powers, and took distinct forms in the
imagination of man. As the phenomena of nature seemed to
resemble animals either in outward form or in action, they were
represented under the figure of animals." [13] Sir George W. Cox
points out how phrases ascribing to things so named the actions or
feelings of living beings, "would grow into stories which might
afterwards be woven together, and so furnish the groundwork of
what we call a legend or a romance. This will become plain, if we
take the Greek sayings or myths about Endymion and Selênê. Here,
besides these two names, we have the names Protogenia and
Asterodia. But every Greek knew that Selênê was a name for the
moon, which was also described as Asterodia because she has her
path among the stars, and that Protogenia denoted the first or early
born morning. Now Protogenia was the mother of Endymion, while
Asterodia was his wife; and so far the names were transparent. Had
all the names remained so, no myth, in the strict sense of the word,
could have sprung up; but as it so happened, the meaning of the
name Endymion, as denoting the sun, when he is about to plunge or
dive into the sea, had been forgotten, and thus Endymion became a
beautiful youth with whom the moon fell in love, and whom she
came to look upon as he lay in profound sleep in the cave of
Latmos." [14] To this growth and transformation of myths we may
return after awhile; meanwhile we will follow closely our man in
the moon, who, among the Greeks, was the young Endymion, the
beloved of Diana, who held the shepherd passionately in her
embrace. This fable probably arose from Endymion's love of
astronomy, a predilection common in ancient pastors. He was, no
doubt, an ardent admirer of the moon; and soon it was reported that
Selênê courted and caressed him in return. May such chaste
enjoyment be ours also! We may remark, in passing, that classic
tales are pure or impure, very much according to the taste of the
reader. "To the jaundiced all things seem yellow," say the French;
and Paul said, "To the pure all things are pure: but unto them that
are defiled is nothing pure." According to Serapion, as quoted by
Clemens Alexandrinus, the tradition was that the face which appears
in the moon is the soul of a Sibyl. Plutarch, in his treatise, _Of the
Face appearing in the roundle of the Moone_, cites the poet
Agesinax as saying of that orb,

     "All roundabout environed
     With fire she is illumined:
     And in the middes there doth appeere,
     Like to some boy, a visage cleere;
     Whose eies to us doe seem in view,
     Of colour grayish more than blew:
     The browes and forehead tender seeme,
     The cheeks all reddish one would deeme." [15]

The story of the man in the moon as told in our British nurseries is
supposed to be founded on Biblical fact. But though the Jews have a
Talmudic tradition that Jacob is in the moon, and though they
believe that his face is plainly visible, the Hebrew Scriptures make
no mention of the myth. Yet to our fireside auditors it is related that
a man was found by Moses gathering sticks on the Sabbath, and that
for this crime he was transferred to the moon, there to remain till the
end of all things. The passage cited in support of this tale is
_Numbers_ xv. 32-36. Upon referring to the sacred text, we
certainly find a man gathering sticks upon the Sabbath day, and the
congregation gathering stones for his merciless punishment, but we
look in vain for any mention of the moon. _Non est inventus_. Of
many an ancient story-teller we may say, as Sheridan said of
Dundas, "the right honourable gentleman is indebted to his memory
for his jests and to his imagination for his facts."

Mr. Proctor reminds us that "according to German nurses, the day
was not the Sabbath, but Sunday. Their tale runs as follows: Ages
ago there went one Sunday an old man into the woods to hew sticks.
He cut a faggot and slung it on a stout staff, cast it over his shoulder,
and began to trudge home with his burthen. On his way he met a
handsome man in Sunday suit, walking towards the church. The
man stopped, and asked the faggot-bearer, 'Do you know that this is
Sunday on earth, when all must rest from their labours?' 'Sunday on
earth, or Monday in heaven, it's all one to me!' laughed the
woodcutter. 'Then bear your bundle for ever!' answered the stranger.
'And as you value not Sunday on earth, yours shall

[Illustration: moon05]

be a perpetual moon-day in heaven; you shall stand for eternity in
the moon, a warning to all Sabbath-breakers.' Thereupon the
stranger vanished, and the man was caught up with his staff and
faggot into the moon, where he stands yet." [16]

In Tobler's account the man was given the choice of burning in the
sun, or of freezing in the moon; and preferring a lunar frost to a
solar furnace, he is to be seen at full moon seated with his bundle of
sticks on his back. If "the cold in clime are cold in blood," we may
be thankful that we do not hibernate eternally in the moon and in the
nights of winter, when the cold north winds blow, "we may look up
through the casement and "pity the sorrows of this poor old man."

Mr. Baring-Gould finds that "in Schaumberg-lippe, the story goes,
that a man and a woman stand in the moon: the man because he
strewed brambles and thorns on the church path, so as to hinder
people from attending mass on Sunday morning; the woman
because she made butter on that day. The man carries his bundle of
thorns, the woman her butter tub. A similar tale is told in Swabia
and in Marken. Fischart says that there 'is to be seen in the moon a
mannikin who stole wood'; and Praetorius, in his description of the
world, that 'superstitious people assert that the black flecks in the
moon are a man who gathered wood on a Sabbath, and is therefore
turned into stone.'" [17]

The North Frisians, among the most ancient and pure of all the
German tribes, tell the tale differently. "At the time when wishing
was of avail, a man, one Christmas Eve, stole cabbages from his
neighbour's garden. When just in the act of walking off with his
load, he was perceived by the people, who conjured (wished) him
up in the moon. There he stands in the full moon, to be seen by
everybody, bearing his load of cabbages to all eternity. Every
Christmas Eve he is said to turn round once. Others say that he stole
willow-boughs, which he must bear for ever. In Sylt the story goes
that he was a sheep-stealer, that enticed sheep to him with a bundle
of cabbages, until, as an everlasting warning to others, he was
placed in the moon, where he constantly holds in his hand a bundle
of cabbages. The people of Rantum say that he is a giant, who at the
time of the flow stands in a stooping posture, because he is then
taking up water, which he pours out on the earth, and thereby causes
the flow; but at the time of the ebb he stands erect and rests from his
labour, when the water can subside again." [18]

Crossing the sea into Scandinavia, we obtain some valuable
information. First, we find that in the old Norse, or language of the
ancient Scandinavians, the sun is always feminine, and the moon
masculine. In the _Völu-Spá_, a grand, prophetic poem, it is

     "But the sun had not yet learned to trace
     The path that conducts to her dwelling-place
     To the moon arrived was not the hour
     When he should exert his mystic power
     Nor to the stars was the knowledge given,
     To marshal their ranks o'er the fields of heaven." [19]

We also learn that "the moon and the sun are brother and sister; they
are the children of Mundilföri, who, on account of their beauty,
called his son Mâni, and his daughter Sôl." Here again we observe
that the moon is masculine. "Mâni directs the course of the moon,
and regulates Nyi (the new moon) and Nithi (the waning moon). He
once took up two children from the earth, Bil and Hiuki, as they
were going from the well of Byrgir, bearing on their shoulders the
bucket Soeg, and the pole Simul." [20] These two children, with
their pole and bucket, were placed in the moon, "where they could
be seen from earth"; which phrase must refer to the lunar spots.
Thorpe, speaking of the allusion in the _Edda_ to these spots, says
that they "require but little illustration. Here they are children
carrying water in a bucket, a superstition still preserved in the
popular belief of the Swedes." [21] We are all reminded at once of
the nursery rhyme--

     "Jack and Jill went up the hill,
          To fetch a pail of water;
     Jack fell down and broke his crown,
          And Jill came tumbling after."

Little have we thought, when rehearsing this jingle in our juvenile
hours, that we should some day discover its roots in one of the
oldest mythologies of the world. But such is the case. Mr.
Baring-Gould has evolved the argument in a manner which, if not
absolutely conclusive in each point, is extremely cogent and clear.
"This verse, which to us seems at first sight nonsense, I have no
hesitation in saying has a high antiquity, and refers to the Eddaic
Hjuki and Bil. The names indicate as much. Hjuki, in Norse, would
be pronounced Juki, which would readily become Jack; and Bil, for
the sake of euphony and in order to give a female name to one of the
children, would become Jill. The fall of Jack, and the subsequent
fall of Jill, simply represent the vanishing of one moon spot after
another, as the moon wanes. But the old Norse myth had a deeper
signification than merely an explanation of the moon spots. Hjuki is
derived from the verb jakka, to heap or pile together, to assemble
and increase; and Bil, from bila, to break up or dissolve. Hjuki and
Bil, therefore, signify nothing more than the waxing and waning of
the moon, and the water they are represented as bearing signifies the
fact that the rainfall depends on the phases of the moon. Waxing and
waning were individualized, and the meteorological fact of the
connection of the rain with the moon was represented by the
children as water-bearers. But though Jack and Jill became by
degrees dissevered in the popular mind from the moon, the original
myth went through a fresh phase, and exists still under a new form.
The Norse superstition attributed _theft_ to the moon, and the
vulgar soon began to believe that the figure they saw in the moon
was the thief. The lunar specks certainly may be made to resemble
one figure, but only a lively imagination can discern two. The girl
soon dropped out of popular mythology, the boy oldened into a
venerable man, he retained his pole, and the bucket was transformed
into the thing he had stolen--sticks or vegetables. The theft was in
some places exchanged for Sabbath-breaking, especially among
those in Protestant countries who were acquainted with the Bible
story of the stick-gatherer." [22]

The German Grimm, who was by no means a grim German, but a
very genial story-teller, also maintains this transformation of the
original myth. "Plainly enough the water-pole of the heathen story
has been transformed into the axe's shaft, and the carried pail into
the thornbush; the general idea of theft was retained, but special
stress laid on the keeping of the Christian holiday, the man suffers
punishment not so much for cutting firewood, as because he did it
on a Sunday." [23] Manifestly "Jack and Jill went up the hill" is
more than a Runic rhyme, and like many more of our popular strains
might supply us with a most interesting and instructive
entertainment; but we must hasten on with the moon-man.

We come next to Britain. Alexander Neckam, a learned English
abbot, poet, and scholar, born in St. Albans, in 1157, in commenting
on the dispersed shadow in the moon, thus alluded to the vulgar
belief: "Nonne novisti quid vulgus vocet rusticum in luna portantem
spinas? Unde quidam vulgariter loquens ait,

     Rusticus in Luna
     Quem sarcina deprimit una
     Monstrat per spinas
     Nulli prodesse rapinas." [24]

This may be rendered, "Do you not know what the people call the
rustic in the moon who carries the thorns? Whence one vulgarly
speaking says,

     The Rustic in the moon,
     Whose burden weighs him down,
     This changeless truth reveals,
     He profits not who steals."

Thomas Wright considers Neckam's Latin version of this popular
distich "very curious, as being the earliest allusion we have to the
popular legend of the man in the moon." We are specially struck
with the reference to theft; while no less noteworthy is the absence
of that sabbatarianism, which is the "moral" of the nursery tale.

In the British Museum there is a manuscript of English poetry of the
thirteenth century, containing an old song composed probably about
the middle of that century. It was first printed by Ritson in his
_Ancient Songs_, the earliest edition of which was published in
London, in 1790. The first lines are as follows:

     "Mon in the mone stond ant strit,
     On is bot-forke is burthen he bereth
     Hit is muche wonder that he na down slyt,
     For doute leste he valle he shoddreth and shereth." [25]

[Illustration: moon06]

In the _Archaeological Journal_ we are presented with a relic from
the fourteenth century. "Mr. Hudson Taylor submitted to the
Committee a drawing of an impression of a very remarkable
personal seal, here represented of the full size. It is appended to a
deed (preserved in the Public Record Office) dated in the ninth year
of Edward the Third, whereby Walter de Grendene, clerk, sold to
Margaret, his mother, one messuage, a barn and four acres of
ground in the parish of Kingston-on-Thames. The device appears to
be founded on the ancient popular legend that a husbandman who
had stolen a bundle of thorns from a hedge was, in punishment of
his theft, carried up to the moon. The legend reading _Te Waltere
docebo cur spinas phebo gero_, 'I will teach you, Walter, why I
carry thorns in the moon,' seems to be an enigmatical mode of
expressing the maxim that honesty is the best policy." [26]

About fifty years later, in the same century, Geoffrey Chaucer, in
his _Troylus and Creseide_ adverts to the subject in these lines:

     "(Quod Pandarus) Thou hast a full great care
     Lest the chorl may fall out of the moone."
     (Book i. Stanza 147.)

And in another place he says of Lady Cynthia, or the moon:

     "Her gite was gray, and full of spottis blake,
     And on her brest a chorl painted ful even,
     Bering a bush of thornis on his backe,
     Whiche for his theft might clime so ner the heaven."

Whether Chaucer wrote the _Testament and Complaint of
Creseide_, in which these latter lines occur, is doubted, though it is
frequently ascribed to him. [27]

Dr. Reginald Peacock, Bishop of Chichester, in his _Repressor_,
written about 1449, combats "this opinioun, that a man which stale
sumtyme a birthan of thornis was sett in to the moone, there for to
abide for euere."

Thomas Dekker, a British dramatist, wrote in 1630: "A starre? Nay,
thou art more than the moone, for thou hast neither changing
quarters, nor a man standing in thy circle with a bush of thornes."

And last, but not least, amid the tuneful train, William Shakespeare,
without whom no review of English literature or of poetic lore could
be complete, twice mentions the man in the moon. First, in the
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, Act iii. Scene 1, Quince the carpenter
gives directions for the performance of Pyramus and Thisby, who
"meet by moonlight," and says, "One must come in with a bush of
thorns and a lanthorn, and say he comes to disfigure, or to present,
the person of Moonshine." Then in Act v. the player of that part
says, "All that I have to say is, to tell you that the lanthorn is the
moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and
this dog, my dog." And, secondly, in the _Tempest_, Act ii., Scene
2, Caliban and Stephano in dialogue:

     "_Cal_. Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
     _Ste_. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee. I was the man i' the
          moon, when time was.
     _Cal_. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee: my mistress
          show'd me thee, thy dog, and bush."

Robert Chambers refers the following singular lines to the man in
the moon: adding, "The allusion to Jerusalem pipes is curious;
Jerusalem is often applied, in Scottish popular fiction, to things of a
nature above this world":

     "I sat upon my houtie croutie (hams),
     I lookit owre my rumple routie (haunch),
     And saw John Heezlum Peezlum
     Playing on Jerusalem pipes." [29]

Here is an old-fashioned couplet belonging probably to our northern

     "The man in the moon
     Sups his sowins with a cutty spoon."

Halliwell explains _sowins_ to be a Northumberland dish of coarse
oatmeal and milk, and a _cutty_ spoon to be a very _small_ spoon.

Wales is not without a memorial of this myth, for Mr. Baring-Gould
tells us that "there is an ancient pictorial representation of our friend
the Sabbath-breaker in Gyffyn Church, near Conway. The roof of
the chancel is divided into compartments, in four of which are the
evangelistic symbols, rudely, yet effectively painted. Besides these
symbols is delineated in each compartment an orb of heaven. The
sun, the moon, and two stars, are placed at the feet of the Angel, the
Bull, the Lion, and the Eagle. The representation of the moon is as
follows: in the disk is the conventional man with his bundle of
sticks, but without the dog." [31] Mr. Gould says, "our friend the
Sabbath-breaker" perhaps the artist would have said "the thief," for
stealing appears to be more antique.

[Illustration: moon07]


A French superstition, lingering to the present day, regards the man
in the moon as Judas Iscariot, transported to the moon for his
treason. This plainly is a Christian invention. Some say the figure is
Isaac bearing a burthen of wood for the sacrifice of himself on
Mount Moriah. Others that it is Cain carrying a bundle of thorns on
his shoulder, and offering to the Lord the cheapest gift from the
field. [32] This was Dante's view, as the succeeding passages will

     "For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine
     On either hemisphere, touching the wave
     Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight
     The moon was round."
     (_Hell_. Canto xx., line 123.)

     "But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots
     Upon this body, which below on earth
     Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?"
     (_Paradise_, ii. 50.) [33]

When we leave Europe, and look for the man in the moon under
other skies, we find him, but with an altogether new aspect. He is
the same, and yet another; another, yet the same. In China he plays a
pleasing part in connubial affairs. "The Chinese 'Old Man in the
Moon' is known as _Yue-lao_, and is reputed to hold in his hands
the power of predestining the marriages of mortals--so that
marriages, if not, according to the native idea, exactly made in
heaven, are made somewhere beyond the bounds of earth. He is
supposed to tie together the future husband and wife with an
invisible silken cord, which never parts so long as life exists." [34]
This must be the man of the Honey-moon, and we shall not meet his
superior in any part of the world. Among the Khasias of the
Himalaya Mountains "the changes of the moon are accounted for by
the theory that this orb, who is a man, monthly falls in love with his
wife's mother, who throws ashes in his face. The sun is female."
[35] The Slavonic legend, following the Himalayan, says that "the
moon, King of night and husband of the sun, faithlessly loves the
morning Star, wherefore he was cloven through in punishment, as
we see him in the sky." [36]

"One man in his time plays many parts," and the man in the moon is
no exception to the rule. In Africa his _rôle_ is a trying one; for "in
Bushman astrological mythology the moon is looked upon as a man
who incurs the wrath of the sun, and is consequently pierced by the
knife (_i.e._ rays) of the latter. This process is repeated until almost
the whole of the moon is cut away, and only a little piece left; which
the moon piteously implores the sun to spare for his (the moon's)
children. (The moon is in Bushman mythology a male being.) From
this little piece, the moon gradually grows again until it becomes a
full moon, when the sun's stabbing and cutting processes
recommence." [37]

We cross the Atlantic, and among the Greenlanders discover a myth,
which is _sui generis_. "The sun and moon are nothing else than
two mortals, brother and sister. They were playing with others at
children's games in the dark, when _Malina_, being teased in a
shameful manner by her brother _Anninga_, smeared her hands
with the soot of the lamp, and rubbed them over the face and hands
of her persecutor, that she might recognise him by daylight. Hence
arise the spots in the moon. Malina wished to save herself by flight,
but her brother followed at her heels. At length she flew upwards,
and became the sun. Anninga followed her, and became the moon;
but being unable to mount so high, he runs continually round the
sun, in hopes of some time surprising her. When he is tired and
hungry in his last quarter, he leaves his house on a sledge harnessed
to four huge dogs, to hunt seals, and continues abroad for several
days. He now fattens so prodigiously on the spoils of the chase, that
he soon grows into the full moon. He rejoices on the death of
women, and the sun has her revenge on the death of men; all males
therefore keep within doors during an eclipse of the sun, and
females during that of the moon." [38] This Esquimaux story, which
has some interesting features, is told differently by Dr. Hayes, the
Arctic explorer, who puts a lighted taper into the sun's hands, with
which she discovered her brother, and which now causes her bright
light, "while the moon, having lost his taper, is cold, and could not
be seen but for his sister's light." [39] This belief prevails as far
south as Panama, for the inhabitants of the Isthmus of Darien have a
tradition that the man in the moon was guilty of gross misconduct
towards his elder sister, the sun. [40]

The Creek Indians say that the moon is inhabited by a man and a
dog. The native tribes of British Columbia, too, have their myth.
Mr. William Duncan writes to the Church Missionary Society: "One
very dark night I was told that there was a moon to be seen on the
beach. On going to see, there was an illuminated disk, with the
figure of a man upon it. The water was then very low, and one of the
conjuring parties had lit up this disk at the water's edge. They had
made it to wax with great exactness, and presently it was at full. It
was an imposing sight. Nothing could be seen around it; but the
Indians suppose that the medicine party are then holding converse
with the man in the moon." [41] Mr. Duncan was at another time led
to the ancestral village of a tribe of Indians, whose chief said to him:
"This is the place where our fore fathers lived, and they told us
something we want to tell you. The story is as follows: 'One night a
child of the chief class awoke and cried for water. Its cries were
very affecting--"Mother, give me to drink!" but the mother heeded
not. The moon was affected, and came down, entered the house, and
approached the child, saying, "Here is water from heaven: drink."
The child anxiously laid hold of the pot and drank the draught, and
was enticed to go away with the moon, its benefactor. They took an
underground passage till they got quite clear of the village, and then
ascended to heaven.' And," said the chief, "our forefathers tell us
that the figure we now see in the moon is that very child; and also
the little round basket which it had in its hand when it went to sleep
appears there." [42]

The aborigines of New Zealand have a suggestive version of this
superstition. It is quoted from D'Urville by De Rougemont in his
_Le Peuple Primitif_ (tom. ii. p. 245), and is as follows:--"Before
the moon gave light, a New Zealander named Rona went out in the
night to fetch some water from the well. But he stumbled and
unfortunately sprained his ankle, and was unable to return home. All
at once, as he cried out for very anguish, he beheld with fear and
horror that the moon, suddenly becoming visible, descended
towards him. He seized hold of a tree, and clung to it for safety; but
it gave way, and fell with Rona upon the moon; and he remains
there to this day." [43] Another account of Rona varies in that he
escapes falling into the well by seizing a tree, and both he and the
tree were caught up to the moon. The variation indicates that the
legend has a living root.

Here we terminate our somewhat wearisome wanderings about the
world and through the mazes of mythology in quest of the man in
the moon. As we do so, we are constrained to emphasize the striking
similarity between the Scandinavian myth of Jack and Jill, that
exquisite tradition of the British Columbian chief, and the New
Zealand story of Rona. When three traditions, among peoples so far
apart geographically, so essentially agree in one, the lessons to be
learned from comparative mythology ought not to be lost upon the
philosophical student of human history. To the believer in the unity
of our race such a comparison of legends is of the greatest
importance. As Mr. Tylor tells us, "The number of myths recorded
as found in different countries, where it is hardly conceivable that
they should have grown independently, goes on steadily increasing
from year to year, each one furnishing a new clue by which
common descent or intercourse is to be traced." [44] The same
writer says on another page of his valuable work, "The mythmaking
faculty belongs to mankind in general, and manifests itself in the
most distant regions, where its unity of principle develops itself in
endless variety of form." [45] Take, for example, China and
England, representing two distinct races, two languages, two forms
of religion, and two degrees of civilization yet, as W. F. Mayers
remarks, "No one can compare the Chinese legend with the popular
European belief in the 'Man in the Moon,' without feeling convinced
of the certainty that the Chinese superstition and the English nursery
tale are both derived from kindred parentage, and are linked in this
relationship by numerous subsidiary ties. In all the range of Chinese
mythology there is, perhaps, no stronger instance of identity with
the traditions that have taken root in Europe than in the case of the
legends relating to the moon." [46] This being the case, our present
endeavour to establish the consanguinity of the nations, on the
ground of agreement in myths and modes of faith and worship,
cannot be labour thrown away. The recognition of friends in heaven
is an interesting speculation; but far more good must result, as
concerns this life at least, from directing our attention to the
recognition of friends on earth. If we duly estimate the worth of any
comparative science, whether of anatomy or philology, mythology
or religion, this is the grand generalization to be attained, essential
unity consistent and concurrent with endless multiformity; many
structures, but one life; many creeds, but one faith; many beings and
becomings, but all emanating from one Paternity, cohering through
one Presence, and converging to one Perfection, in Him who is the
Author and Former and Finisher of all things which exist. Let no
man therefore ridicule a myth as puerile if it be an aid to belief in
that commonweal of humanity for which the Founder of the purest
religion was a witness and a martyr. We have sought out the man in
the moon mainly because it was one out of many scattered stories
which, as Max Müller nobly says, "though they may be pronounced
childish and tedious by some critics, seem to me to glitter with the
brightest dew of nature's own poetry, and to contain those
very touches that make us feel akin, not only with Homer or
Shakespeare, but even with Lapps, and Finns, and Kaffirs." [47]
Vico discovered the value of myths, as an addition to our
knowledge of the mental and moral life of the men of the
myth-producing period. Professor Flint tells us that mythology, as
viewed by the contemporaries of Vico, "appeared to be merely a
rubbish-heap, composed of waste, worthless, and foul products of
mind; but he perceived that it contained the materials for a science
which would reflect the mind and history of humanity, and even
asserted some general principles as to how these materials were to be
interpreted and utilised, which have since been established, or at
least endorsed, by Heyne, Creuzer, C O Müller, and others." [48]
Let us cease to call that common which God has cleansed, and with
thankfulness recognise the solidarity of the human race, to which
testimony is borne by even a lunar myth.

We now return to the point whence we deflected, and rejoin the
chief actor in the selenographic comedy. It is a relief to get away
from the legendary man in the moon, and to have the real man once
more in sight. We are like the little boy, whom the obliging visitor,
anxious to show that he was passionately fond of children, and
never annoyed by them in the least, treated to a ride upon his knee.
"Trot, trot, trot; how do you enjoy that, my little man? Isn't that
nice?" "Yes, sir," replied the child, "but not so nice as on the real
donkey, the one with the four legs." It is true, the mythical character
has redeeming traits; but then he breaks the Sabbath, obstructs
people going to mass, steals cabbages, and is undergoing sentence
of transportation for life. While the real man, who lives in a
well-lighted crescent, thoroughly ventilated; whose noble profile is
sometimes seen distinctly when he passes by on the shady side of
the way; whose beaming countenance is at other times turned full
upon us, reflecting nothing but sunshine as he winks at his many
admirers: he is a being of quite another order. We do not forget that
he has been represented with a claret jug in one hand, and a claret
cup in the other; that he frequently takes half and half; that he is a
smoker; that he sometimes gets up when other people are going to
bed; that he often stops out all the night; and is too familiar with the
low song--

     "We won't go home till morning."

But these are mere eccentricities of greatness, and with all such
irregularities he is "a very delectable, highly respectable" young
fellow; in short,

     "A most intense young man,
     A soul-full-eyed young man,
     An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical,
     Out-of-the-way young man."

Why, he has been known to take the shine out of old Sol himself;
though from his partiality to us it always makes him look black in
the face when we, Alexander-like, stand between him and that
luminary. We, too, are the only people by whom he ever allows
himself to be eclipsed. Illustrious man in the moon I he has lifted
our thoughts from earth to heaven, and we are reluctant to leave
him. But the best of friends must part; especially as other lunar
inhabitants await attention.

"Other inhabitants!" some one may exclaim. Surely! we reply; and
though it will necessitate a digression, we touch upon the question
_en passant_. Cicero informs us that "Xenophanes says that the
moon is inhabited, and a country having several towns and
mountains in it." [49] This single dictum will be sufficient for those
who bow to the influence of authority in matters of opinion.
Settlement of questions by "texts" is a saving of endless pains. For
that there are such lunar inhabitants must need little proof. Every
astronomer is aware that the moon is full of craters; and every
linguist is aware that "cratur" is the Irish word for creature. Or, to
state the argument syllogistically, as our old friend Aristotle would
have done: "Craturs" are inhabitants; the moon is full of craters;
therefore the moon is full of inhabitants. We appeal to any unbiased
mind whether such argumentation is not as sound as much of our
modern reasoning, conducted with every pretence to logic and
lucidity. Besides, who has not heard of that astounding publication,
issued fifty years since, and entitled _Great Astronomical
Discoveries lately made by Sir John Herschel, LL.D., F.R.S., etc., at
the Cape of Good Hope_? One writer dares to designate it a singular
satire; stigmatizes it as the once celebrated _Moon Hoax_, and
attributes it to one Richard Alton Locke, of the United States. What
an insinuation! that a man born under the star-spangled banner
could trifle with astronomy. But if a few incredulous persons
doubted, a larger number of the credulous believed. When the first
number appeared in the New York Sun, in September, 1835, the
excitement aroused was intense. The paper sold daily by thousands;
and when the articles came out as a pamphlet, twenty thousand went
off at once. Not only in Young America, but also in Old England,
France, and throughout Europe, the wildest enthusiasm prevailed.
Could anybody reasonably doubt that Sir John had seen wonders,
when it was known that his telescope contained a prodigious lens,
weighing nearly seven tons, and possessing a magnifying power
estimated at 42,000 times? A reverend astronomer tells us that Sir
Frederick Beaufort, having occasion to write to Sir John Herschel at
the Cape, asked if he had heard of the report current in England that
he (Sir John) had discovered sheep, oxen, and flying _men_ in the
moon. Sir John had heard the report; and had further heard that an
American divine had "improved" the revelations. The said divine
had told his congregation that, on account of the wonderful
discoveries of the present age, lie lived in expectation of one day
calling upon them for a subscription to buy Bibles for the benighted
inhabitants of the moon. [50] What more needs to be said? Give our
astronomical mechanicians a little time, and they will produce an
instrument for full verification of these statements regarding the
lunar inhabitants; and we may realize more than we have imagined
or dreamed. We may obtain observations as satisfactory as those of
a son of the Emerald Isle, who was one day boasting to a friend of
his excellent telescope. "Do you see yonder church?" said he.
"Although it is scarcely discernible with the naked eye, when I look
at it through my telescope, it brings it so close that I can hear the
organ playing." Two hundred years ago, a wise man witnessed a
wonderful phenomenon in the moon: he actually beheld a live
elephant there. But the unbelieving have ever since made all manner
of fun at the good knight's expense. Take the following burlesque of
this celebrated discovery as an instance. "Sir Paul Neal, a conceited
virtuoso of the seventeenth century, gave out that he had discovered
'an elephant in the moon.' It turned out that a mouse had crept into
his telescope, which had been mistaken for an elephant in the
moon." [51] Well, we concede that an elephant and a mouse are
very much alike; but surely Sir Paul was too sagacious to be
deceived by resemblances. If we had more faith, which is
indispensable in such matters, the revelations of science, however
extraordinary or extravagant, would be received without a murmur
of distrust. We should not then meet with such sarcasm as we found
in the seventeenth century _Jest Book_ before quoted: "One asked
why men should thinke there was a world in the moone? It was
answered, because they were lunatique."

According to promise, we must make mention of at least one visit
paid by our hero to this lower world. We do this in the classic
language of a student of that grand old University which stands in
the city of Oxford. May the horns of Oxford be exalted, and the
shadow of the University never grow less, while the moon endureth!

     "The man in the moon! why came he down
     From his peaceful realm on high;
     Where sorrowful moan is all unknown,
     And nothing is born to die?
     The man in the moon was tired, it seems,
     Of living so long in the land of dreams;
     'Twas a beautiful sphere, but nevertheless
     Its lunar life was passionless;
     Unchequered by sorrow, undimmed by crime,
     Untouched by the wizard wand of time;
     'Twas all too grand, there was no scope
     For dread, and of course no room for hope
     To him the future had no fear,
     To make the present doubly dear;
     The day no cast of coming night,
     To make the borrowed ray more bright;
     And life itself no thought of death,
     To sanctify the boon of breath:--
     In short, as we world-people say,
     The man in the moon was _ennuyé_." [52]

Poor man in the moon! what a way he must have been in! We hope
that he found improving fellowship, say among the Fellows of some
Royal Astronomical Society; and that when e returned to his
skylight, or lighthouse on the coast of immensity's wide sea, he
returned a wiser and much happier man. It is for us, too, to
remember with Spenser, "The noblest mind the best contentment

And now we record a few visits which men of this sublunary sphere
are said to have paid to the moon. The chronicles are unfortunately
very incomplete. Aiming at historical fulness and fidelity, we turned
to our national bibliotheca at the British Museum, where we fished
out of the vasty deep of treasures a MS. without date or name. We
wish the Irish orator's advice were oftener followed by literary
authors. Said he, "Never write an anonymous letter without signing
your name to it." This MS. is entitled "_Selenographia_, or News
from the world in the moon to the lunatics of this world. By Lucas
Lunanimus of Lunenberge." [53] We are here told how the author,
"making himself a kite of ye hight(?) of a large sheet, and tying
himself to the tayle of it, by the help of some trusty friends, to
whom he promised mountains of land in this his new-found world;
being furnished also with a tube, horoscope, and other instruments
of discovery, he set saile the first of Aprill, a day alwaies esteemed
prosperous for such adventures." Fearing, however, lest the date of
departure should make some suspicious that the author was desirous
of making his readers April fools, we leave this aërial tourist to
pursue his explorations without our company, and listen to a learned
bishop, who ought to be a canonical authority, for the man in the
moon himself is an overseer of men. Dr. Francis Godwin, first of
Llandaff, afterwards of Hereford, wrote about the year 1600 _The
Man in the Moone_, or a discourse of a voyage thither. This was
published in 1638, under the pseudonym of Domingo Gonsales. The
enterprising aeronaut went up from the island of El Pico, carried by
wild swans. _Swans_, be it observed. It was not a wild-goose chase.
The author is careful to tell us what we believe so soon as it is
declared. "The further we went, the lesser the globe of the earth
appeared to us; whereas still on the contrary side the moone showed
herselfe more and more monstrously huge." After eleven days'
passage, the exact time that Arago allowed for a cannon ball to
reach the moon, "another earth" was approached. "I perceived that it
was covered for the most part with a huge and mighty sea, those
parts only being drie land, which show unto us here somewhat
darker than the rest of her body; that I mean which the country
people call _el hombre della Luna_, the man of the moone."
This last clause demands a protest. The bishop knocks the
country-people's man out of the moon, to make room for his own
man, which episcopal creation is twenty-eight feet high, and weighs
twenty-five or thirty of any of us. Besides ordinary men, of
extraordinary measurement, the bishop finds in the moon princes
and queens. The females, or lunar ladies, as a matter of course, are
of absolute beauty. Their language has "no affinity with any other I
ever heard." This is a poor look-out for the American divine who
expects to send English Bibles to the moon. "Food groweth
everywhere without labour": this is a cheering prospect for our
working classes who may some day go there. "They need no
lawyers": oh what a country! "And as little need is there of
physicians." Why, the moon must be Paradise regained. But, alas!
"they die, or rather (I should say) cease to live." Well, my lord
bishop, is not that how we die on earth? Perhaps we need to be
learned bishops to appreciate the difference. If so, we might accept
episcopal distinction.

Lucian, the Greek satirist, in his _Voyage to the Globe of the
Moon_, sailed through the sky for the space of seven days and
nights and on the eighth "arrived in a great round and shining island
which hung in the air and yet was inhabited. These inhabitants were
Hippogypians, and their king was Endymion." [54] Some of the
ancients thought the lunarians were fifteen times larger than we are,
and our oaks but bushes compared with their trees. So natural is it to
magnify prophets not of our own country.

William Hone tells us that a Mr. Wilson, formerly curate of Halton
Gill, near Skipton-in-Craven, Yorkshire, in the last century wrote a
tract entitled _The Man in the Moon_, which was seriously meant to
convey the knowledge of common astronomy in the following
strange vehicle: A cobbler, Israel Jobson by name, is supposed to
ascend first to the top of Penniguit; and thence, as a second stage
equally practicable, to the moon; after which he makes the grand
tour of the whole solar system. From this excursion, however, the
traveller brings back little information which might not have been
had upon earth, excepting that the inhabitants of one of the planets, I
forget which, were made of "pot metal." [55] This curious tract, full
of other extravagances, is rarely if ever met with, it having been
zealously bought up by its writer's family.

We must not be detained with any detailed account of M. Jules
Verne's captivating books, entitled _From the Earth to the Moon_,
and _Around the Moon_. They are accessible to all, at a trifling
cost. Besides, they reveal nothing new relating to the Hamlet of our
present play. Nor need we more than mention "the surprising
adventures of the renowned Baron Munchausen." His lunarians
being over thirty-six feet high, and "a common flea being much
larger than one of our sheep," [56] Munchausen's moon must be
declined, with thanks.

"Certain travellers, like the author of the _Voyage au monde de
Descartes_, have found, on visiting these different lunar countries,
that the great men whose names they had arbitrarily received took
possession of them in the course of the sixteenth century, and there
fixed their residence. These immortal souls, it seems, continued
their works and systems inaugurated on earth. Thus it is, that on
Mount Aristotle a real Greek city has risen, peopled with peripatetic
philosophers, and guarded by sentinels armed with propositions,
antitheses, and sophisms, the master himself living in the centre of
the town in a magnificent palace. Thus also in Plato's circle live
souls continually occupied in the study of the prototype of ideas.
Two years ago a fresh division of lunar property was made, some
astronomers being generously enriched." [57]

That the moon is an abode of the departed spirits of men, an upper
hades, has been believed for ages. In the Egyptian _Book of
Respirations_, which M. p. J. de Horrack has translated from the
MS. in the Louvre in Paris, Isis breathes the wish for her brother
Osiris "that his soul may rise to heaven in the disk of the moon."
[58] Plutarch says, "Of these soules the moon is the element,
because soules doe resolve into her, like as the bodies of the dead
into the earth." [59] To this ancient theory Mr. Tylor refers when he
writes, "And when in South America the Saliva Indians have
pointed out the moon, their paradise where no mosquitoes are, and
the Guaycurus have shown it as the home of chiefs and medicine-men
deceased, and the Polynesians of Tokelau in like manner have
claimed it as the abode of departed kings and chiefs, then these
pleasant fancies may be compared with that ancient theory
mentioned by Plutarch, that hell is in the air and elysium in the
moon, and again with the mediaeval conception of the moon as the
seat of hell, a thought elaborated in profoundest bathos by Mr. M. F.

     'I know thee well, O Moon, thou cavern'd realm,
     Sad satellite, thou giant ash of death,
     Blot on God's firmament, pale home of crime,
     Scarr'd prison house of sin, where damnèd souls
     Feed upon punishment. Oh, thought sublime,
     That amid night's black deeds, when evil prowls
     Through the broad world, thou, watching sinners well,
     Glarest o'er all, the wakeful eye of--Hell!'

Skin for skin, the brown savage is not ill-matched in such
speculative lore with the white philosopher." [60]

The last journey to the moon on our list we introduce for the sake of
its sacred lesson. Pure religion is an Attic salt, which wise men use
in all of their entertainments: a condiment which seasons what is
otherwise insipid, and assists healthy digestion in the compound
organism of man's mental and moral constitution. About seventy
years since, a little tract was published, in which the writer imagined
himself on _luna firma_. After giving the inhabitants of the moon an
account of our terrestrial race, of its fall and redemption, and of the
unhappiness of those who neglect the great salvation, he says, "The
secret is this, that nothing but an infinite God, revealing Himself by
His Spirit to their minds, and enabling them to believe and trust in
Him, can give perfect and lasting satisfaction." He then adds, "My
last observation received the most marked approbation of the lunar
inhabitants: they truly pitied the ignorant triflers of our sinful world,
who prefer drunkenness, debauchery, sinful amusements, exorbitant
riches, flattery, and other things that are highly esteemed amongst
men, to the pleasures of godliness, to the life of God in the soul of
man, to the animating hope of future bliss." [61]

Here the man in the moon and we must part. Hitherto some may
have supposed their thoughts occupied with a mere creature of
imagination, or gratuitous creation of an old-world mythology.
Perhaps the man in the moon is nothing more: perhaps he is very
much more. Possibly we have information of every being in the
universe; and possibly there are beings in every existing world of
which we know nothing whatever. The latter possibility we deem
much the more probable. Remembering our littleness as contrasted
with the magnitude of the whole creation, we prefer to believe that
there are rational creatures in other worlds besides this small-sized
sphere in, it may be, a small-sized system. Therefore, till we acquire
more conclusive evidence than has yet been adduced, we will not
regard even the moon as an empty abode, but as the home of beings
whom, in the absence of accurate definition, we denominate men.
Whether the man in the moon have a body like our own, whether his
breathing apparatus, his digestive functions, and his cerebral organs,
be identical with ours, are matters of secondary moment. The
Fabricator of terrestrial organizations has limited himself to no one
type or form, why then should man be the model of beings in distant
worlds? Be the man in the moon a biped or quadruped; see he
through two eyes as we do, or a hundred like Argus; hold he with
two hands as we do, or a hundred like Briarius; walk he with two
feet as we do, or a hundred like the centipede, "the mind's the
standard of the man" everywhere. If he have but a wise head and a
warm heart; if he be not shut up, Diogenes--like, within his own
little tub of a world, but take an interest in the inhabitants of kindred
spheres; and if he be a worshipper of the one God who made the
heavens with all their glittering hosts;--then, in the highest sense, he
is a _man_, to whom we would fain extend the hand of fellowship,
claiming him as a brother in that universal family which is confined
to no bone or blood, no colour or creed, and, so far as we can
conjecture, to no world, but is co-extensive with the household of
the Infinite Father, who cares for all of His children, and will
ultimately blend them in the blessed bonds of an endless
confraternity. Whether we or our posterity will ever become better
acquainted in this life with the man in the moon is problematical;
but in the ages to come, "when the manifold wisdom of God" shall
be developed among "the principalities and powers in heavenly
places," he may be something more than a myth or topic of
amusement. He may be visible among the first who will declare
every man in his own tongue wherein he was born the wonderful
works of God, and he may be audible among the first who will lift
their hallelujahs of undivided praise when every satellite shall be a
chorister to laud the universal King. Let us, brothers of earth, by
high and holy living, learn the music of eternity; and then, when the
discord of "life's little day" is hushed, and we are called to join in
the everlasting song, we may solve in one beatific moment the
problem of the plurality of worlds, and in that solution we shall see
more than we have been able to see at present of the man in the


     "O woman! lovely woman! nature made thee
     To temper man; we had been brutes without you.
     Angels are painted fair, to look like you:
     There's in you all that we believe of heaven
     Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,
     Eternal joy, and everlasting love."
     (Otway's _Venice Preserved_, 1682.)

It is not good that the man in the moon should be alone; therefore
creative imagination has supplied him with a companion. The
woman in the moon as a myth does not obtain to any extent in
Europe; she is to be found chiefly in Polynesia, and among the
native races of North America. The _Middle Kingdom_ furnishes
the following allusion: "The universal legend of the man in the
moon takes in China a form that is at least as interesting as the ruder
legends of more barbarous people. The 'Goddess of the Palace of the
Moon,' Chang-o, appeals as much to our sympathies as, and rather
more so than, the ancient beldame who, in European folk-lore, picks
up perpetual sticks to satisfy the vengeful ideas of an ultra-Sabbatical
sect. Mr. G. C. Stent has aptly seized the idea of the Chinese
versifier whom he translates

     "On a gold throne, whose radiating brightness
          Dazzles the eyes--enhaloing the scene,
     Sits a fair form, arrayed in snowy whiteness.
          She is Chang-o, the beauteous Fairy Queen.
     Rainbow-winged angels softly hover o'er her,
         Forming a canopy above the throne;
     A host of fairy beings stand before her,
          Each robed in light, and girt with meteor zone.'" [62]

A touching tradition is handed down by Berthold that the moon is
Mary Magdalene, and the spots her tears of repentance. [63]
Fontenelle, the French poet and philosopher, saw a woman in the
moon's changes. "Everything," he says, "is in perpetual motion;
even including a certain young lady in the moon, who was seen with
a telescope about forty years ago, everything has considerably aged.
She had a pretty good face, but her cheeks are now sunken, her nose
is lengthened, her forehead and chin are now prominent to such an
extent, that all her charms have vanished, and I fear for her days."
"What are you relating to me now?" interrupted the marchioness.
"This is no jest," replied Fontenelle. "Astronomers perceived in the
moon a particular figure which had the aspect of a woman's head,
which came forth from between the rocks, and then occurred some
changes in this region. Some pieces of mountain fell, and disclosed
three points which could only serve to compose a forehead, a nose,
and an old woman's chin." [64] Doubtless the face and the
disfigurements were fictions of the author's lively imagination, and
his words savour less of science than of satire; but Fontenelle was
neither the first nor the last of those to whom "the inconstant moon
that monthly changes" has been an impersonation of the fickle and
the feminine. The following illustration is from Plutarch: "Cleobulus
said, As touching fooles, I will tell you a tale which I heard my
mother once relate unto a brother of mine. The time was (quoth she)
that the moone praied her mother to make her a peticoate fit and
proportionate for her body. Why, how is it possible (quoth her
mother) that I should knit or weave one to fit well about thee
considering that I see thee one while full, another while croissant or
in the wane and pointed with tips of horns, and sometime again
halfe rounde?" [65] Old John Lilly, one of our sixteenth-century
dramatists, likewise supports this ungallant theory. In the
_Prologus_ to one of his very rare dramas he writes:

     "Our poet slumb'ring in the muses laps,
     Hath seen a woman seated in the moone." [66]

This woman is Pandora, the mischief-maker among the Utopian
shepherds. In Act v. she receives her commission to conform the
moon to her own mutability:

     "Now rule _Pandora_ in fayre _Cynthia's_ steede,
     And make the moone inconstant like thyselfe,
     Raigne thou at women's nuptials, and their birth,
     Let them be mutable in all their loves.
     Fantasticall, childish, and folish, in their desires
     Demanding toyes; and stark madde
     When they cannot have their will."

In North America the woman in the moon is a cosmological myth.
Take, for example, the tale told by the Esquimaux, which word is
the French form of the Algonquin Indian _Eskimantsic_, "raw-flesh
eaters." "Their tradition of the formation of the sun and moon is,
that not long after the world was formed, a great conjuror or angikak
became so powerful that he could ascend into the heavens when he
pleased, and on one occasion took with him a beautiful sister whom
he loved very much, and also some fire, to which he added great
quantities of fuel, and thus formed the sun. For a time the conjuror
treated his sister with great kindness, and they lived happily
together; but at last he became cruel, ill-used her in many ways, and,
as a climax, burnt one side of her face with fire. After this last
indignity she ran away from him and became the moon. Her brother
in the sun has been in chase of her ever since; but although he
sometimes gets near, will never overtake her. When new moon, the
burnt side of her face is towards the earth; when full moon, the
reverse is the case." [67] The likeness between this tradition and the
Greenlanders' myth of Malina and Anninga is very close, the
difference consisting chiefly in the change of sex; here the moon is
feminine, there the moon is masculine. [68]

In Brazil the story is further varied, in that it is the sister who
falls in love, and receives a discoloured face for her offence. Professor
Hartt says that Dr. Silva de Coutinho found on the Rio Branco and Sr.
Barbosa has reported from the Jamundá a myth "in which the moon
is represented as a maiden who fell in love with her brother and
visited him at night, but who was finally betrayed by his passing his
blackened hand over her face." [69]

The Ottawa tale of Indian cosmogony, called Iosco, narrates the
adventures of two Indians who "found themselves in a beautiful
country, lighted by the moon, which shed around a mild and
pleasant light. They could see the moon approaching as if it were
from behind a hill. They advanced, and the aged woman spoke to
them; she had a white face and pleasing air, and looked rather old,
though she spoke to them very kindly. They knew from her first
appearance that she was the moon. She asked them several
questions. She informed them that they were halfway to her
brother's (the sun), and that from the earth to her abode was half the
distance." [70]

Other American Indians have a tradition of an old woman who lived
with her grand-daughter, the most beautiful girl that ever was seen
in the country. Coming of age, she wondered that only herself and
her grandmother were in the world. The grandam explained that an
evil spirit had destroyed all others; but that she by her power had
preserved herself and her grand-daughter. This did not satisfy the
young girl, who thought that surely some survivors might be found.
She accordingly travelled in search, till on the tenth day she found a
lodge inhabited by eleven brothers, who were hunters. The eleventh
took her to wife, and died after a son was born. The widow then
wedded each of the others, beginning with the youngest. When she
took the eldest, she soon grew tired of him, and fled away by the
western portal of the hunter's lodge. Tearing up one of the stakes
which supported the door, she disappeared in the earth with her little
dog. Soon all trace of the fugitive was lost. Then she emerged from
the earth in the east, where she met an old man fishing in the sea.
This person was he who made the earth. He bade her pass into the
air toward the west. Meanwhile the deserted husband pursued his
wife into the earth on the west, and out again on the east, where the
tantalizing old fisherman cried out to him, "Go, go; you will run
after your wife as long as the earth lasts without ever overtaking her,
and the nations who will one day be upon the earth will call you
_Gizhigooke_, he who makes the day." From this is derived
_Gizis_, the sun. Some of the Indians count only eleven moons,
which represent the eleven brothers, dying one after another. [71]

Passing on to Polynesia, we reach Samoa, where "we are told that
the moon came down one evening, and picked up a woman, called
Sina, and her child. It was during a time of famine. She was
working in the evening twilight, beating out some bark with which
to make native cloth. The moon was just rising, and it reminded her
of a great bread-fruit. Looking up to it, she said, 'Why cannot you
come down and let my child have a bit of you?' The moon was
indignant at the idea of being eaten, came down forthwith, and took
her up, child, board, mallet, and all. The popular superstition is not
yet forgotten in Samoa of the _woman_ in the moon. 'Yonder is
Sina,' they say, 'and her child, and her mallet, and board.'" [72] The
same belief is held in the adjacent Tonga group, or Friendly Islands,
as they were named by Captain Cook, on account of the supposed
friendliness of the natives. "As to the spots in the moon, they are
compared to the figure of a woman sitting down and beating
_gnatoo_" (bark used for clothing). [73]

In Mangaia, the southernmost island of the Hervey cluster, the
woman in the moon is Ina, the pattern wife, who is always busy, and
indefatigable in the preparation of resplendent cloth, _i.e. white
clouds_. At Atiu it is said that Ina took to her celestial abode a
mortal husband, whom, after many happy years, she sent back to the
earth on a beautiful rainbow, lest her fair home should be defiled by
death. [74] Professor Max Müller is reminded by this story of
Selênê and Endymion, of Eos and Tithonos.


When the moon is waxing, from about the eighth day to the full, it
requires no very vivid imagination to descry on the westward side of
the lunar disk a large patch very strikingly resembling a rabbit or
hare. The oriental noticing this figure, his poetical fancy developed
the myth-making faculty, which in process of time elaborated the
legend of the hare in the moon, which has left its marks in every
quarter of the globe. In Asia it is indigenous, and is an article of
religious belief. "To the common people in India the spots look like
a hare, _i.e._ Chandras, the god of the moon, carries a hare (sasa),
hence the moon is called Sasin or Sasanka, hare mark or spot." [75]
Max Müller also writes, "As a curious coincidence it may be
mentioned that in Sanskrit the moon is called Sasanka,_i.e._ 'having
the marks of a hare,' the black marks in the moon being taken for the
likeness of the hare." [76] This allusion to the sacred language of the
Hindus affords a convenient opportunity of introducing one of the
most beautiful legends of the East. It is a Buddhist tract; but in the
lesson which it embodies it will compare very favourably with
many a tract more ostensibly Christian.

"In former days, a hare, a monkey, a coot, and a fox, became
hermits, and lived in a wilderness together, after having sworn not
to kill any living thing. The god Sakkria having seen this through
his divine power, thought to try their faith, and accordingly took
upon him the form of a brahmin, and appearing before the monkey
begged of him alms, who immediately brought to him a bunch of
mangoes, and presented it to him. The pretended brahmin, having
left the monkey, went to the coot and made the same request, who
presented him a row of fish which he had just found on the bank of
a river, evidently forgotten by a fisherman. The brahmin then went
to the fox, who immediately went in search of food, and soon
returned with a pot of milk and a dried liguan, which he had found
in a plain, where apparently they had been left by a herdsman. The
brahmin at last went to the hare and begged alms of him. The hare
said, 'Friend, I eat nothing but grass, which I think is of no use to
you.' Then the pretended brahmin replied, 'Why, friend, if you are a
true hermit, you can give me your own flesh in hope of future
happiness.' The hare directly consented to it, and said to the
supposed brahmin, 'I have granted your request, and you may do
whatever you please with me.' The brahmin then replied, 'Since you
are willing to grant my request, I will kindle a fire at the foot of the
rock, from which you may jump into the fire, which will save me
the trouble of killing you and dressing your flesh.' The hare readily
agreed to it, and jumped from the top of the rock into the fire which
the supposed brahmin had kindled; but before he reached the fire, it
was extinguished; and the brahmin appearing in his natural shape of
the god Sakkria, took the hare in his arms and immediately drew its
figure in the moon, in order that every living thing of every part of
the world might see it." [77] All will acknowledge that this is a very
beautiful allegory. How many in England, as well as in Ceylon, are
described by the monkey, the coot, and the fox--willing to bring
their God any oblation which costs them nothing; but how few are
like the hare--ready to present themselves as a living sacrifice, to be
consumed as a burnt offering in the Divine service! Those, however,
who lose their lives in such self-sacrifice, shall find them, and be
caught up to "shine as the brightness of the firmament and as the
stars for ever and ever."

Another version of this legend is slightly variant. Grimm says: "The
people of Ceylon relate as follows: While Buddha the great god
sojourned upon earth as a hermit, he one day lost his way in a wood.
He had wandered long, when a _hare_ accosted him: 'Cannot I help
thee? Strike into the path on thy right. I will guide thee out of the
wilderness.' Buddha replied: 'Thank thee, but I am poor and hungry,
and unable to repay thy kindness.' 'If thou art hungry,' said the hare,
'light a fire, and kill, roast, and eat me.' Buddha made a fire, and the
hare immediately jumped in. Then did Buddha manifest his divine
power; he snatched the beast out of the flames, and set him in the
moon, where he may be seen to this day." [78] Francis Douce, the
antiquary, relates this myth, and adds, "this is from the information
of a learned and intelligent French gentleman recently arrived from
Ceylon, who adds that the Cingalese would often request of him to
permit them to look for the hare through his telescope, and exclaim
in raptures that they saw it. It is remarkable that the Chinese
represent the moon by a rabbit pounding rice in a mortar. Their
mythological moon Jut-ho is figured by a beautiful young woman
with a double sphere behind her head, and a rabbit at her feet. The
period of this animal's gestation is thirty days; may it not therefore
typify the moon's revolution round the earth." [79]

[Illustration: moon08]

_Collin de Plancy's_ "_Dictionnaire Infernal_."

In this same apologue we have doubtless a duplicate, the original or
a copy, of another Buddhist legend found among the Kalmucks of
Tartary; in which Sâkyamuni himself, in an early stage of existence,
had inhabited the body of a hare. Giving himself as food to feed the
hunger of a starving creature, he was immediately placed in the
moon, where he is still to be seen. [80]

The Mongolian also sees a hare in the lunar shadows. We are told
by a Chinese scholar that "tradition earlier than the period of the
Han dynasty asserted that a hare inhabited the surface of the moon,
and later Taoist fable depicted this animal, called the gemmeous
hare, as the servitor of the genii, who employ it in pounding the
drugs which compose the elixir of life. The connection established
in Chinese legend between the hare and the moon is probably
traceable to an Indian original. In Sanskrit inscriptions the moon is
called Sason, from a fancied resemblance of its spots to a leveret;
and pandits, to whom maps of the moon's service have been shown,
have fixed on _Loca Paludosa_, and _Mons Porphyrites_ or
_Keplerus_ and _Aristarchus_, for the spots which they think
exhibit the similitude of a hare." [81] On another page of the same
work we read: "During the T'ang dynasty it was recounted that a
cassia tree grows in the moon, this notion being derived apparently
from an Indian source. The _sal_ tree (_shorea robusta_), one of the
sacred trees of the Buddhists, was said during the Sung dynasty to
be identical with the cassia tree in the moon. The lunar hare is said
to squat at the foot of the cassia tree, pounding its drugs for the
genii. The cassia tree in the moon is said to be especially visible at
mid-autumn, and hence to take a degree at the examinations which
are held at this period is described as plucking a leaf from the
cassia." [82]

This hare myth, attended with the usual transformation, has
travelled to the Hottentots of South Africa. The fable which follows
is entitled "From an original manuscript in English, by Mr. John
Priestly, in Sir G. Grey's library." "The moon, on one occasion, sent
the hare to the earth to inform men that as she (the moon) died away
and rose again, so mankind should die and rise again. Instead,
however, of delivering this message as given, the hare, either out of
forgetfulness or malice, told mankind that as the moon rose and died
away, so man should die and rise no more. The hare, having
returned to the moon, was questioned as to the message delivered,
and the moon, having heard the true state of the case, became so
enraged with him that she took up a hatchet to split his head; falling
short, however, of that, the hatchet fell upon the upper lip of the
hare, and cut it severely. Hence it is that we see the 'hare-lip.' The
hare, being duly incensed at having received such treatment, raised
his claws, and scratched the moon's face; and the dark parts which
we now see on the surface of the moon are the scars which she
received on that occasion." [83] In an account of the Hottentot myth
of the "Origin of Death," the angered moon heats a stone and burns
the hare's mouth, causing the hare-lip. [84] Dr. Marshall may tell us,
with all the authority of an eminent physiologist, that hare-lip is
occasioned by an arrest in the development of certain frontal and
nasal processes, [85] and we may receive his explanation as a
sweetly simple solution of the question; but who that suffers from
this leporine-labial deformity would not prefer a supernatural to a
natural cause? Better far that the lip should be cleft by Shakespeare's
"foul fiend Flibbertigibbet," than that an abnormal condition should
be accounted for by science, or comprised within the reign of
physical law.

Even Europe is somewhat hare-brained: for Caesar tells us that the
Britons did not regard it lawful to eat the hare, though he does not
say why; and in Swabia still, children are forbidden to make
shadows on the wall to represent the sacred hare of the moon.

We may pursue this matter even in Mexico, whose deities and
myths a recent Hibbert lecturer brought into clearer light, showing
that the Mexicans "possessed beliefs, institutions, and a developed
mythology which would bear comparison with anything known to
antiquity in the old world." [86] The Tezcucans, as they are usually
called, are described by Prescott as "a nation of the same great
family with the Aztecs, whom they rivalled in power, and surpassed
in intellectual culture and the arts of social refinement." [87] Their
account of the creation is that "the sun and moon came out equally
bright, but this not seeming good to the gods, one of them took a
rabbit by the heels and slung it into the face of the moon, dimming
its lustre with a blotch, whose mark may be seen to this day." [88]

We have now seen that the fancy of a hare in the moon is universal;
but not so much importance is to be attached to this, as to some
other aspects of moon mythology. The hare-like patch is visible in
every land, and suggested the animal to all observers. That the
rabbit's period of gestation is thirty days is a singular coincidence;
but that is all--nay, it is not even that, for "the moon's revolution
round the earth," which Douce supposed the Chinese myth to typify,
is accomplished in a little more than _twenty-seven_ days. Neither
is much weight due to the fanciful comparison of Gubernatis: "The
moon is the watcher of the sky, that is to say, she sleeps with her
eyes open; so also does the hare, whence the _somnus leporinus_
became a proverb." [89] The same author says on another page, and
here we follow him: "The mythical hare is undoubtedly the moon.
In the first story of the third book of the _Pancatantram_, the hares
dwell upon the shore of the lake Candrasaras, or lake of the moon,
and their king has for his palace the lunar disk." [90] It is this story,
which Mr. Baring-Gould relates in outline; and which we are
compelled still further to condense. In a certain forest there once
lived a herd of elephants. Long drought having dried up the lakes
and swamps, an exploring party was sent out in search of a fresh
supply of water. An extensive lake was discovered, called the moon
lake. The elephants with their king eagerly marched to the spot, and
found their thirsty hopes fully realized. All round the lake were in
numerable hare warrens, which the tread of the mighty monsters
crushed unmercifully, maiming and mangling the helpless
inhabitants. When the elephants had withdrawn, the poor hares met
together in terrible plight, to consult upon the course which they
should take when their enemies returned. One wise hare undertook
the task of driving the ponderous herd away. This he did by going
alone to the elephant king, and representing himself as the hare
which lived in the moon. He stated that he was deputed by his
excellency the moon to say that if the elephants came any more to
the lake, the beams of night would be withheld, and their bodies
would be burned up with perpetual sunshine. The king of the
elephants thinking that "the better part of valour is discretion,"
decided to offer an apology for his offence. He was conducted to the
lake, where the moon was reflected in the water, apparently
meditating his revenge. The elephant thrust his proboscis into the
lake, which disturbed the reflection. Whereupon the elephant,
judging the moon to be enraged, hurried with his apology, and then
went off vowing never to return. The wise hare had proven that
"wisdom is better than strength"; and the hares suffered no more
molestation. "We may also remark, in this event, the truth of that
saying of Euripides, 'that one wise counsel is better than the strength
of many'" (_Polybius_, i. 35).


We owe an immense debt of gratitude and honour to the many
enterprising and cultivated men who have gone into all parts of the
earth and among all peoples to investigate human history and habit,
mythology and religion, and thus enrich the stores of our national
literature. With such a host of travellers gathering up the fragments,
nothing of value is likely to be lost. We have to thank intelligent
explorers for all we know of the mythical frog or toad in the moon:
an addition to our information which is not unworthy of thoughtful

The Selish race of North-west American Indians, who inhabit the
country between the Cascade and Rocky Mountains, have a
tradition, which Captain Wilson relates as follows: "The expression
of 'a toad in the moon,' equivalent to our 'man in the moon,' is
explained by a very pretty story relating how the little wolf, being
desperately in love with the toad, went a-wooing one night and
prayed that the moon might shine brightly on his adventure; his
prayer was granted, and by the clear light of a full moon he was
pursuing the toad, and had nearly caught her, when, as a last chance
of escape, she made a desperate spring on to the face of the moon,
where she remains to this day." [91] Another writer says that "the
Cowichan tribes think that the moon has a frog in it." [92]

From the Great Western we turn to the Great Eastern world, and in
China find the frog in the moon. "The famous astronomer Chang
Hêng was avowedly a disciple of Indian teachers. The statement
given by Chang Hêng is to the effect that 'How I, the fabled inventor
of arrows in the days of Yao and Shun,[*] obtained the drug of
immortality from Si Wang Mu (the fairy 'Royal Mother' of the
West); and Chang Ngo (his wife) having stolen it, fled to the moon,
and became the frog--_Chang-chu_--which is seen there.' The lady
_Chang-ngo_ is still pointed out among the shadows in the surface
of the Moon." [93] Dr. Wells Williams also tells us that in China
"the sun is symbolized by the figure of a raven in a circle, and the
moon by a rabbit on his hind legs pounding rice in a mortar, or by a
three-legged toad. The last refers to the legend of an ancient beauty,
Chang-ngo, who drank the liquor of immortality, and straightway
ascended to the moon, where she was transformed into a toad, still
to be traced in its face. It is a special object of worship in autumn,
and moon cakes dedicated to it are sold at this season." [94] We
have little doubt that what the Chinese look for they see. We in the
West characterize and colour objects which we behold, as we see
them through the painted windows of our predisposition or
prejudice. As a great novelist writes: "From the same object
different conclusions are drawn; the most common externals of
nature, the wind and the wave, the stars and the heavens, the very
earth on which we tread, never excite in different bosoms the same
ideas; and it is from our own hearts, and not from an outward
source, that we draw the hues which colour the web of our
existence. It is true, answered Clarence. You remember that in
two specks of the moon the enamoured maiden perceived two
unfortunate lovers, while the ambitious curate conjectured that they
were the spires of a cathedral." [95] Besides, it must be confessed
that the particular moon-patch that has awakened so much interest in
every age and nation is quite as much like a frog or toad as it is like
a rabbit or hare.

[*] Mr. Herbert A. Giles says that How I was a legendary chieftain,
who "flourished about 2,500 B.C." _Strange Stories from a Chinese
Studio_, London, 1880, i. 19, _note_.


It is almost time that we should leave this lunar zoology; we will
therefore merely present a few creatures which may be of service in
a comparative anatomy of the whole subject, and then close the
account. There is a story told in the Fiji Islands which so nearly
approaches the Hottentot legend of the hare, that they both seem but
variations of a common original. In the one case the opponent of the
moon's benevolent purpose affecting man's hereafter was a hare, in
the other a rat. The story thus runs: There was "a contest between
two gods as to how man should die. Ra Vula (the moon) contended
that man should be like himself--disappear awhile, and then live
again. Ra Kalavo (the rat) would not listen to this kind proposal, but
said, 'Let man die as a rat dies.' And he prevailed." [96] Mr. Tylor,
who quotes this rat story, adds: "The dates of the versions seem to
show that the presence of these myths among the Hottentots and
Fijians, at the two opposite sides of the globe, is at any rate not due
to transmission in modern times." [97]

From the rat to one of its mortal enemies is an easy transition. The
Australian story is that Mityan, the moon, was a native cat, who fell
in love with another's wife, and while trying to induce her to run
away with him, was discovered by the husband, when a fight took
place. Mityan was beaten and ran away, and has been wandering
ever since. [98] We are indebted for another suggestion to Bishop
Wilkins, who wrote over two centuries ago: "As for the form of
those spots, _Albertus_ thinks that it represents a lion, with his tail
towards the east, and his head the west; and some others have
thought it to be very much like a fox, and certainly 'tis as much like
a lion as that in the _zodiac_, or as _ursa major_ is like a bear." [99]
This last remark of the old mathematician is "a hit, a very palpable
hit," at those unpoetical people who catalogue the constellations
under all sorts of living creatures' names, implying resemblances,
and then "sap with solemn sneer" our myths of the moon.

We have now seen that the moon is populated with men, women,
and children,--hares and rabbits, toads and frogs, cats and dogs, and
sundry small "cattle"; we observe in making our exit that it is also
planted with a variety of trees; in short, is a zoological garden of a
high order. Even among the ancients some said the lunar spots were
forests where Diana hunted, and that the bright patches were plains.
Captain Cook tells us that in the South Pacific "the spots observed
in the moon are supposed to be groves of a sort of trees which once
grew in Otaheite, and, being destroyed by some accident, their seeds
were carried up thither by doves, where they now flourish." [100]
Ellis also tells of these Tahitians that "their ideas of the moon,
which they called _avae_ or _marama_, were as fabulous as those
they entertained of the sun. Some supposed the moon was the wife
of the sun; others that it was a beautiful country in which the aoa
grew." [101] These arborary fancies derive additional interest, if not
a species of verisimilitude, from the record of a missionary that "a
stately tree, clothed with dark shining leaves, and loaded with many
hundreds of large green or yellowish-coloured fruit, is one of the
most splendid and beautiful objects to be met with among the rich
and diversified scenery of a Tahitian landscape."

Our collection of lunar legends is now on exhibition. No thoughtful
person will be likely to dispute the dictum of Sir John Lubbock that
"traditions and myths are of great importance, and indirectly throw
much light on the condition of man in ancient times." [102] But they
serve far more purposes than this. They are the raw material, out of
which many of our goodly garments of modern science and religion
are made up. The illiterate negroes on the cotton plantation, and the
rude hunters in the jungle or seal fishery, produce the staple, or
procure the skins, which after long labour afford comfort and
adornment to proud philosophers and peers. The golden cross on the
saintly bosom and the glittering crown on the sovereign brow were
embedded as rough ore in primeval rocks ages before their wearers
were born to boast of them. We shall esteem our treasures none the
less because their origin is known, as we love "the Best of men"
none the less because he was born of a woman. We closed our series
of moon myths with a vision of a beautiful country, ornamented
with groves of fruitful trees, whose seeds had been carried thither by
white-winged doves; and carried thither because "some accident"
had destroyed the trees in their native isles on earth. Thus the lunar
world had become a desirable scene of superior and surpassing
loveliness. Who can reflect upon this dream of human childhood,
and not recall some dreams of later years? Who can fail to discern
slight touches of the same hand which we see displayed in other
designs? "Happily for historic truth," says Mr. Tylor, "mythic
tradition tells its tales without expurgating the episodes which
betray its real character to more critical observation." [103] Who is
not led on from Tahiti to Greece, and to the Isles of the Blessed, the
Elysium which abounds in every charm of life, and to the garden of
the Hesperides, with its apples of gold; thence to the Meru of the
Hindoos, the sacred mountain which is perpetually clothed in the
rays of the sun, and adorned with every variety of plants and trees;
thence again to the Heden of the Persians, of matchless beauty,
where ever flourishes the tree Hom with its wonderful fruit; on to
the Chinese garden, near the gate of heaven, whose noblest spring is
the fountain of life, and whose delightful trees bear fruits which
preserve and prolong the existence of man? [104] Thence an easy
entrance is gained to the Hebrew Paradise, with its abounding trees
"pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the
midst of the garden"; and finally arises a sight of the "better land" of
the Christian poetess, the incorruptible and undefiled inheritance of
the Christian preacher, the prospect which is "ever vernal and
blooming,--and, best of all, amid those trees of life there lurks no
serpent to destroy,--the country, through whose vast region we shall
traverse with untired footsteps, while every fresh revelation of
beauty will augment our knowledge, and holiness, and joy." [105]
Who will travel on such a pilgrimage of enlarged thought, and not
come to the conclusion that if one course of development has been
followed by all scientific and spiritual truth, then "almost the whole
of the mythology and theology of civilized nations maybe traced,
without arrangement or co-ordination, and in forms that are
undeveloped and original rather than degenerate, in the traditions
and ideas of savages"? [106] Such a conclusion may diminish our
self-esteem, if we have supposed ourselves the sole depositaries of
Divine knowledge; but it will exalt our conception of the generosity
of the Father of all men, who never left a human soul without a
witness of His invisible presence and ineffable love.



We have now to show that the moon has been in every age, and
remains still, one of the principal objects of human worship. Even
among certain nations credited with pure monotheism, it will be
manifested that there was the practice of that primitive polytheism
which adored the hosts of heaven. And, however humiliating or
disappointing the disclosure may prove, it will be established that
some of the foremost Christian peoples of the world maintain
luniolatry to this day, notwithstanding that they have the reproving
light of the latest civilization. We are so prone to talk of heathenism
as abroad, that we forget or neglect the gross heathenism which
abounds at home; and while we complacently speak of the march of
the world's progress with which we identify ourselves, we are
oblivious of the fact that much ancient falsehood survives and
blends with the truth in which our superior minds, or minds with
superior facilities, have been trained. How few of us reflect that the
signs and symbols of rejected theories have passed into the
nomenclature of received systems! Nay, we plume ourselves upon
the new translation or revision as if we were the favoured recipients
of some fresh revelation. Not only in the names of our days and
months, but also in some of our most cherished dogmas, we are but
the "liberal-conservatives" in religion, who retain the old, while we
congratulate ourselves upon being the apostles of the new. That the
past must always run into the present, and the present proceed from
the past, we readily enough allow as a natural and necessary law;
yet baptized heathenism is often heathenism still, under another
name. Again, we are sometimes so short-sighted that we deny to
former periods the paternity of their own more fortunate offspring,
and behave like prosperous children who ungratefully ignore their
poorer parents, to whom they owe their breath and being. Such
treatment of history is to be emphatically deprecated, whether it
arises from ignorance or ingratitude. We ought to know, if we do
not, and we ought also to acknowledge, that our perfect day grew
out of primeval darkness, and that the progress was a lingering
dawn. This we hold to be the clearest view of the Divine causation.
Our modern method in philosophy, largely owing to the _Novum
Organum_ of Bacon, is evolution, the _novum organum_ of the
nineteenth century; and this process recognises no abrupt or
interruptive creations, but gradual transformations from pre-existent
types, "variations under domestication," and the passing away of the
old by its absorption into the new. Our religion, like our language, is
a garden not only for indigenous vegetation, but also for
acclimatisation, in which we improve under cultivation exotic plants
whose roots are drawn from every soil on the earth. And, as Paul
preached in Athens the God whom the Greeks worshipped in
ignorance, so our missionaries carry back to less enlightened
peoples the fruit of that life-giving tree whose germs exist among
themselves, undeveloped and often unknown. No religion has fallen
from heaven, like the fabled image of Athene, in full-grown beauty.
All spiritual life is primordially an inspiration or intuition from the
Father of spirits, whose offspring all men are, and who is not far
from every one of them. This intuition prompts men to "seek the
Lord, if haply they might feel after Him, and find Him." Thus prayer
becomes an instinct; and to worship is as natural as to breathe. But
man is a being with five senses, and as his contact with his
fellow-creatures and with the whole creation is at one or other of
those five points, he is necessarily sensuous. Endowed with native
intelligence, the _intellectus ipse_ of Leibnitz, he nevertheless
receives his impressions on _sensitive_ nerves, his emotions are
_sentiments_, his words become _sentences_, and his stock of
wisdom is his common _sense_. A few, very few, words express his
sensations, a few more his perceptions, and so on; but he is
conscious of _objects_ at first, he deals with _subjects_ afterwards.
Soon the sun, moon, and stars, as bright lights attract his eyes, as we
have all seen an infant of a few days fix its gaze upon a candle or
lamp. These heavenly orbs are found to be in motion, to be far
away, to be the glory of day and night: what wonder if _ideas_ of
these _images_ are formed in the religious mind, if the worshipper
imagines the sun and moon to be reflections of the God of light, and
pays homage to the creature which renders the Creator visible? Thus
in the childhood of man religion grows, and with the multiplication
of intellect and sensation, endless diversity of language, conception
and faith is the result. Another result, of course, is the endless
diversity of deities. Every race, every nation, every tribe, every
household, every heart, has had its own God. And yet, with all this
multiplicity in religious literature and dogma, subject and object, a
unity co-exists which the student of the science notes with profound
interest. All nations of men are of one blood; and all forms of God
embody the one Eternal Spirit. To this unity mythology tends. As
one writer says: "We must ever bear in mind that the course of
mythology is from many gods toward one, that it is a synthesis, not
an analysis, and that in this process the tendency is to blend in one
the traits and stories of originally separate divinities."
[107] The ancient Hebrew worshipped God as "the Eternal, our
righteousness"; the Greek worshipped Him as wisdom and beauty;
the Roman as power and government; the Persian as light and
goodness; and so forth. Few hymns have surpassed the beauty of
Pope's _Universal Prayer_. It is the _Te Deum laudamus_ of that
catholic Church which embraces God-loved humanity.

     "Father of all! in every age,
          In every clime, adored,
     By saint, by savage, and by sage,
          Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!"

The Christian, believing his to be the "One Religion," as a recent
Bampton Lecturer termed it, too often forgets that his system is a
recomposition of rays of a religious light which was decomposed in
the prismatic minds of earlier men. And further, with a change of
metaphor, if Christianity has flourished and fructified through
eighteen centuries, it must not be denied that it is a graft upon an old
stock which through fifteen previous centuries had borne abundant
fruit. The same course must be adopted still. We find men
everywhere holding some truth; we add further truth; until, as a
chemist would say, we saturate the solution, which upon
evaporation produces a crystallized life of entirely new colour and
quality and form. Thus Professor Nilsson writes: "Every religious
_change_ in a people is, in fact, only an intermixture of religions;
because the new religion, whether received by means of convincing
arguments, or enforced by the eloquence of fire and sword, cannot
_at once_ tear up all the wide-spreading roots by which its
forerunner has grown in the heart of the people; this must be the
work of many years, perhaps of many generations." [108] We
cannot better close this lengthy introduction than by reminding
Christians of the saying of their Great and Good Teacher, "I am not
come to destroy, but to fulfil."


We have already in part pointed out that the moon has been
considered as of the masculine gender; and have therefore but to
travel a little farther afield to show that in the Aryan of India, in
Egyptian, Arabian, Slavonian, Latin, Lithuanian, Gothic, Teutonic,
Swedish, Anglo-Saxon, and South American, the moon is a male
god. To do this, in addition to former quotations, it will be sufficient
to adduce a few authorities. "Moon," says Max Müller, "is a very old
word. It was _móna_ in Anglo-Saxon, and was used there, not as a
feminine, but as a masculine for the moon was originally a
masculine, and the sun a feminine, in all Teutonic languages; and it
is only through the influence of classical models that in English
moon has been changed into a feminine, and sun into a masculine. It
was a most unlucky assertion which Mr. Harris made in his
_Hermes_, that all nations ascribe to the sun a masculine, and to the
moon a feminine gender." [109] Grimm says, "Down to recent
times, our people were fond of calling the sun and moon _frau
sonne_ and _herr mond_."  [110] Sir Gardner Wilkinson writes:
"Another reason that the moon in the Egyptian mythology could not
be related to Bubastis is, that it was a male and not a female deity,
personified in the god Thoth. This was also the case in some
religions of the West. The Romans recognised the god Lunus; and
the Germans, like the Arabs, to this day, consider the moon
masculine, and not feminine, as were the Selênê and Luna of the
Greeks and Latins." [111] Again, "The Egyptians represented their
moon as a male deity, like the German _mond_ and _monat_, or the
_Lunus_ of the Latins; and it is worthy of remark, that the same
custom of calling it male is retained in the East to the present day,
while the sun is considered female, as in the language of the
Germans." [112] "In Slavonic," Sir George Cox tells us, "as in the
Teutonic mythology, the moon is male. His wedding with the sun
brings on him the wrath of Perkunas [the thunder-god], as the song
tells us

     'The moon wedded the sun
     In the first spring.
     The sun rose early
     The moon departed from her.
     The moon wandered alone;
     Courted the morning star.
     Perkunas, greatly wroth,
     Cleft him with a sword.
     'Wherefore dost thou depart from the sun,
     Wandering by night alone,
     Courting the morning star?'" [113]

"In a Servian song a girl cries to the sun--

     'O brilliant sun! I am fairer than thou
     Than thy brother, the bright moon.'"

In South Slavonian poetry the sun often figures as a radiant youth.
But among the northern Slavonians, as well as the Lithuanians, the
sun was regarded as a female being, the bride of the moon. 'Thou
askest me of what race, of what family I am,' says the fair maiden of
a song preserved in the Tambof Government--

     'My mother is--the beauteous Sun,
     And my father--the bright Moon.'" [114]

"Among the Mbocobis of South America the moon is a man and the
sun his wife." [115] The Ahts of North America take the same view;
and we know that in Sanskrit and in Hebrew the word for moon is

This may seem to many a matter of no importance; but if mythology
throws much light upon ancient history and religion, its importance
may be considerable, especially as it lies at the root of that sexuality
which has been the most prolific parent of both good and evil in
human life. The sexual relation has existed from the very birth of
animated nature; and it is remarkable that a man of learning and
piety in Germany has made the strange if not absurd statement that
in the beginning "Adam was externally sexless." [116] Another
idea, more excusable, but equally preposterous, is, that grammatical
gender has been the cause of the male and female personation of
deities, when really it has been the result. The cause, no doubt, was
inherent in man's constitution; and was the inevitable effect of
thought and expression. The same necessity of natural language
which led the Hebrew prophets to speak of their land as married, of
their nation as a wife in prosperity and a widow in calamity, of their
Maker as their husband, who rejoices over them as the bridegroom
rejoiceth over the bride: [117] this same necessity, becoming a habit
like that of our own country folks in Hampshire, of whom Cobbett
speaks, who call almost everything _he_ or _she_; led the sensuous
and imaginative ancients, as it leads simple and poetical peoples
still, to call the moon a man and to worship him as a god. Objects of
fear and reverence would be usually masculines; and objects of love
and desire feminines. We may thus find light thrown upon the
honours paid to such goddesses as Astarte and Aphrodite: which
will also help us to understand the deification by a celibate
priesthood of the Virgin Mary. We may, moreover, account partly
for the fact that to the sailor his ship is always she; to the swain the
flowers which resemble his idol, as the lily and the rose, are always
feminine, and used as female names; while to the patriot the mother
country is nearly always of the tender sex. [118] Prof. Max Müller
thinks that the distinction between males and females began, "not
with the introduction of masculine nouns, but with the introduction
of feminines, _i.e._ with the setting apart of certain derivative
suffixes for females. By this all other words became masculine."
[119] Thus the sexual emotions of men created that grammatical
gender which has contributed so powerfully to our later mythology,
and has therefore been mistaken for the author of our male and
female personations. What beside sexuality suggested the thought of
the Chevalier Marini? "He introduces the god _Pan_, who boasts
that the spots which are seen in the moon are impressions of the
kisses he gave it." [120] That grammar is very much younger than
sexual relations is proven by the curious fact mentioned by Max
Müller that _pater_ is not a masculine, nor _mater_ a feminine.
Gender, we must not forget, is from _genus_, a kind or class; and
that the classification in various languages has been arranged on no
fixed plan. We in our modern English, with much still to do, have
improved in this respect, since, in Anglo-Saxon, _wif_ = wife, was
neuter, and _wif-mann_ = woman, was masculine. In German still
_die frau_, the woman, is feminine; but _das weib_, the wife, is
neuter. [121] Dr. Farrar finds the root of gender in the imagination:
which we admit if associated with sex. Otherwise, we cannot
understand how an _unfelt_ distinction of this sort could be
mentally _seen_. But Dr. Farrar means more than imagination, for
he says, "from this source is derived the whole system of genders
for inanimate things, which was perhaps inevitable at that early
childish stage of the human intelligence, when the actively working
soul attributed to everything around it some portion of its own life.
Hence, well-nigh everything is spoken of as masculine or feminine."
[122] We are surprised that Dr. Farrar seems to think German an
exception, in making a masculine noun of the moon. He has failed
to apply to this point his usual learned and laborious investigation.

Diogenes Laertius describes the theology of the Jews as an offshoot
from that of the Chaldees, and says that the former affirm of the
latter "that they condemn images, and especially those persons who
say that the gods are male and female." [124] Which condemnation
implies the prevalence of this sexual distinction between their

In concluding this chapter we think that it will be granted that
gender in the personification of inanimate objects was the result of
sex in the animate subject: that primitive men saw the moon as a
most conspicuous object, whose spots at periods had the semblance
of a man's face, whose waxing and waning increased their wonder:
whose coming and going amid the still and solemn night added to
the mystery: until from being viewed as a man, it was feared,
especially when apparently angry in a mist or an eclipse, and so
reverenced and worshipped as the heaven-man, the monthly god.


Anthropomorphism, or the representation of outward objects in the
_form_ of _man_, wrought largely, as we have seen, in the
manufacture of the man in the moon; it entered no less into the
composition of the moon-god. The twenty-first verse of the fiftieth
Psalm contains its recognition and rebuke. "Thou thoughtest that I
was altogether as thyself"; or, still more literally, "Thou hast thought
that being, I shall be like thee." As Dr. Delitzsch says, "Because
man in God's likeness has a bodily form, some have presumed to
infer backwards therefrom that God also has a bodily form like to
man, which is related by way of prototype to the human form."
[125] As well might we say that because a watchmaker constructs a
chronometer with a movement somewhat like that of his own heart,
therefore he is mechanical, metallic, and round. Against this
anthropomorphic materialism science lifts up its voice; for what
modern philosopher, worthy of the name, fails to distinguish
between phenomenon and fact, inert matter and active force? Says a
recent writer, "We infer that as our own master of the mint is neither
a sovereign nor a half-sovereign, so the force which coins and
recoins this ulh, or matter, must be altogether in the god-part and
none of it in the metal or paste in which it works." [126] With the
progress of man's intelligence we shall observe improvement in this
anthropomorphism, but it will still survive. As Mr. Baring-Gould
tells us: "The savage invests God with bodily attributes; in a more
civilized state man withdraws the bodily attributes, but imposes the
limitations of his own mental nature; and in his philosophic
elevation he recognises in God intelligence only, though still with
anthropomorphic conditions." [127]

Xenophanes said that if horses, oxen, and lions could paint, they
would make gods like themselves. And Ralph Waldo Emerson says:
"The gods of fable are the shining moments of great men. We run
all our vessels into one mould. Our colossal theologies of Judaism,
Christism, Buddhism, Mahometism, are the necessary and structural
action of the human mind. The student of history is like a man going
into a warehouse to buy clothes or carpets. He fancies he has a new
article. If he go to the factory, he shall find that his new stuff still
repeats the scrolls and rosettes which are found on the interior walls
of the pyramids of Thebes. Our theism is the purification of the
human mind. Man can paint, or make, or think nothing but man. He
believes that the great material elements had their origin from his
thought. And our philosophy finds one essence collected or
distributed." [128] And a devout author, whose orthodoxy
--whatever that may mean--is unquestioned, acknowledges that man
adored the unknown power in the sun, and "in the moon, which
bathes the night with its serene splendours. Under this latter form,
completed by a very simple anthropomorphism which applies to the
gods the law of the sexes, the religions of nature weighed during
long ages upon Western Asia." [129] A volume might be written
upon this subject; but we have other work in hand.

It seems to be generally admitted that no form of idolatry is older
than the worship of the moon. Lord Kames says, "It is probable that
the sun and moon were early held to be deities, and that they were
the first visible objects of worship." [130] Dr. Inman says, "That the
sun and moon were at a very early period worshipped, none who has
studied antiquity can deny." [131] And Goldziher maintains that
"the lunar worship is older than the solar." [132] Maimonides, "the
light of Israel," says that the Zabaists not only worshipped the moon
themselves, but they also asserted that Adam led mankind to that
species of worship. No doubt luniolatry is as old as the human race.
In some parts the moon is still the superior god. Mr. Tylor writes:
"Moon worship, naturally ranking below sun worship in importance,
ranges through nearly the same district of culture. There are
remarkable cases in which the moon is recognised as a great deity
by tribes who take less account, or none at all, of the sun. An old
account of the Caribs describes them as esteeming the moon more
than the sun, and at new moon coming out of their houses crying,
Behold the moon!" [133] This deity, then, is ancient and modern:
also a chief of the gods: let us now show that he is a god whose
empire is the world.

We begin in Asia, and with the Assyrian monuments, which display
many religious types and emblems. "Representations of the
heavenly bodies, as sacred symbols, are of constant occurrence in
the most ancient sculptures. In the bas-reliefs we find figures of the
sun, moon, and stars, suspended round the neck of the king when
engaged in the performance of religious ceremonies." [134] In
Chaldaea "the moon was named Sin and Hur. Hurki, Hur, and Ur
was the chief place of his worship, for the satellite was then
considered as being masculine. The name for the moon in Armenian
was _Khaldi_, which has been considered by some to be the origin
of the word Chaldee, as signifying moon worshippers." [135] With
this Chaldaean deity may be connected "the Akkadian moon god,
who corresponds with the Semitic Sin," and who "is Aku, 'the
seated-father,' as chief supporter of kosmic order, styled 'the maker
of brightness,' En-zuna, 'the lord of growth,' and Idu, 'the measuring
lord,' the Aïdês of Hesychios." [136]

"With respect to the name of Chaldaean, perhaps the most probable
account of the origin of the word is, that it designates properly the
inhabitants of the ancient capital, Ur or Hur,--_Kkaldi_ being in the
Burbur dialect the exact equivalent of _Hur_, which was the proper
name of the moon god, and Chaldaeans being thus either 'moon
worshippers,' or simply, inhabitants of the town dedicated to, and
called after, the moon." [137] Again: "The first god of the second
triad is Sin or Hurki, the moon deity. It is in condescension to Greek
notions that Berosus inverts the true Chaldaean order, and places the
sun before the moon in his enumeration of the heavenly bodies.
Chaldaean mythology gives a very decided preference to the lesser
luminary, perhaps because the nights are more pleasant than the
clays in hot countries. With respect to the names of the god, we may
observe that Sin, the Assyrian or Semitic term, is a word of quite
uncertain etymology, which, however, is found applied to the moon
in many Semitic languages."  [138] "_Sin_ is used for the moon in
Mendaean and Syriac at the present day. It is the name given to the
moon god in St. James of Seruj's list of the idols of Harran; and it
was the term used for Monday by the Sabaeans as late as the ninth
century." [139] Another author writes: "The Babylonian and
Assyrian moon god is Sin, whose name probably appears in Sinai.
The expression, 'from the origin of the god Sin,' was used by the
Assyrians to mark remote antiquity; because, as chaos preceded
order, so night preceded day, and the enthronement of the moon as
the night-king marks the commencement of the annals of kosmic
order." [140]

When we search the Hebrew Scriptures, we find too many allusions
to the Queen of Heaven, to Astarte and the groves, for us to doubt
that the Israelites adored

     "--moonèd Ashtaroth,
     Heaven's queen and mother both." (Milton's _Odes_.)

Dr. Goldziher is an incontestable authority, and thus writes: "Queen
or Princess of Heaven is a very frequent name for the moon." [141]
Again, "Even in the latest times the Hebrews called the moon the
'Queen of Heaven' (Jer. vii. 18), and paid her Divine honours in this
character at the time of the captivity." [142] And, to complete this
author's witness, he again says: "What was the antiquity of this lunar
worship among the Hebrews, is testified (as has long been known)
by the part played by Mount Sinai in the history of Hebrew religion.
For this geographical name is doubtless related to _Sin_, one of the
Semitic names of the moon. The mountain must in ancient times
have been consecrated to the moon. The beginning of the Hebrew
religion, which was connected with the phenomena of the night-sky,
germinated first during the residence in Egypt on the foundation of
an ancient myth. The recollection of this occasioned them to call the
part of Egypt which they had long inhabited, eres Sînîm, 'moonland'
(Isa. xlix. 12)." [143] It is but just that we should hear the other side,
when there is a difference of opinion. The above mentioned 'Queen
of Heaven' is beyond question the Ashtoreth or Astarte (identical
with our _star_), which was the principal goddess of the
Phoenicians; and we believe she was originally the goddess of the
moon. This is doubted by a modern writer, who says, "Baal is
constantly coupled with Astarte; and the more philosophical opinion
is that this national god and goddess were the lord and lady of
Phoenicia, rather than the sun and moon: for to a people full of
political life the sun and moon would have been themselves
representatives, while a Divine king and queen were the realities.
And if so, the habitual inclination of the Israelites, an essentially
political people, for this worship becomes the more easily
understood." [144] Professor F. D. Maurice, in his _Moral and
Metaphysical Philosophy_, also takes this view. The question here
is not whether the Jews worshipped Astarte, but whether Astarte
was the moon. This we cannot hesitate to answer in the affirmative.
Kenrick writes: "Ashtoreth or Astarte appears physically to
represent the moon. She was the chief local deity of Sidon; but her
worship must have been extensively diffused, not only in Palestine,
but in the countries east of the Jordan, as we find Ashtaroth-Karnaim
(Ashtaroth of two horns) mentioned in the book of Genesis
(xiv. 5). This goddess, like other lunar deities, appears to have been
symbolized by a heifer, or a figure with a heifer's head, whose horns
resembled the crescent moon. The children of Israel renounced her
worship at the persuasion of Samuel; and we do not read again of
her idolatry till the reign of Solomon (1 Kings xi. 5), after which it
appears never to have been permanently banished, though put down
for a time by Josiah (2 Kings xxiii. 13). She is the Queen of Heaven,
to whom, according to the reproaches of Jeremiah (vii. 18, xliv. 25),
the women of Israel poured out their drink-offerings, and burnt
incense, and offered cakes, regarding her as the author of their
national prosperity. This epithet accords well with the supposition
that she represented the moon, as some ancient authors inform us."
[145] Dr. Gotch, an eminent Hebrew scholar, says that there is no
doubt that the moon is the symbol of productive power and must be
identified with Astarte. "That this goddess was so typified can
scarcely be doubted. The ancient name of the city, Ashtaroth-Karnaim,
already referred to, seems to indicate a horned Astarte, that
is an image with a crescent moon on her head like the Egyptian
Athor. At any rate, it is certain that she was by some ancient writers
identified with the moon, as Lucian and Herodian. On these grounds
Movers, Winer, Keil, and others maintain that originally Ashtoreth
was the moon goddess." [146] Clearly, then, the Hebrews
worshipped the moon. But, even apart from Astarte, this worship
may be proven on other evidence. Dr. Jamieson says that the word
_mena_ (moon: Anglo-Saxon, _mona_) "approaches most nearly to
a word used by the prophet Isaiah, which has been understood by
the most learned interpreters as denoting the moon. 'Ye are they that
prepare a table for _Gad_, and that furnish the offering unto
_Meni_.' (Isa. lxv. 11). As _Gad_ is understood of the _sun_, we
learn from Diodor Sicul that _Meni_ is to be viewed as a
designation of the _moon_." [147] This is Bishop Lowth's view.
"The disquisitions and conjectures of the learned concerning Gad
and Meni are infinite and uncertain: perhaps the most probable may
be, that Gad means good fortune, and Meni the moon." [148] One
point is worthy of notice. In our English version _Meni_ is rendered
"number"; and we know very well that by the courses of the moon
ancient months and years were numbered. In Isaiah iii. 18 we find
the daughters of Zion ornamented with feet-rings, and networks, and
_crescents_: or, as our translation reads, "round tires like the moon."
And, once more, in Ezekiel xlvi., we read that the gate of the inner
court of the sanctuary that "looketh toward the east, shall be opened
on the day of the new moon"; and the meat offering on "the day of
the new moon shall be a young bullock without blemish, and six
lambs, and a ram." If there was no sacred significance in the
observance of these lunar changes, why did the writer of the New
Testament Epistle to the Colossians say, "Let no man judge you in
respect of the new moon"? A competent scholar, in recognising this
consociation of Hebrew religion with the moon's phases, rightly
ascribes to it an earlier origin. Says Ewald: "To connect the annual
festivals with the full moon, and to commence them in the evening,
as though greeting her with a glad shout, was certainly a primitive
custom, both among other races and in the circle of nations from
which in the earliest times Israel sprang." [149] And the Bishop of
Derry remarks: "To a religious Hebrew it was rather the moon than
the sun which marked the seasons, as the calendar of the Church
was regulated by it." [150] We have sought to place this Hebrew
luniolatry beyond dispute, because so many Christians have
supposed that "the chosen people" lived in unclouded light, and "the
uncovenanted heathen" in outer and utter darkness.

Passing on we find that "in Pontus and Phrygia were temples to
_Meen_, and Homer says _Meen_ presides over the months, whilst
in the Sanskrit _Mina_, we see her connected with the Fish and
Virgin. It is not improbable that the great Akaimenian race, as
worshipping and upholding sun and moon faiths, were called after
_Meni_, the moon." [151] Among the Arabians the moon was the
great divinity, as may be learned from Pocock's _Specimen
Historiae Arabum_; Prideaux's _Connection_; Gibbon's _Decline
and Fall of the Roman Empire_; and Sale's _Preliminary Discourse_
to his translation of the _Koran_. Tiele says: "The ancient religion
of the Arabs rises little higher than animistic polydaemonism. The
names Itah and Shamsh, the sun god, occur among all the Semitic
peoples; Allât, or Alilât, and Al-Uzza, as well as the triad of moon
goddesses to which these last belong, are common to several, and
the deities which bear them are reckoned among the chief." [152]
The Saracens called the moon _Cabar_, the great; and its crescent is
the religious symbol of the Turks to this day. Tradition says that
"Philip, the father of Alexander, meeting with great difficulties in
the siege of Byzantium, set the workmen to undermine the walls,
but a crescent moon discovered the design, which miscarried;
consequently the Byzantines erected a statue to Diana, and the
crescent became the symbol of the state." Dr. Brewer, who cites this
story, adds: "Another legend is that Othman, the sultan, saw in a
vision a crescent moon, which kept increasing till its horns extended
from east to west, and he adopted the crescent of his dream for his
standard, adding the motto, _Donec repleat orbem_." [153] Schlegel
mentions the story that Mahomet "wished to pass with his disciples
as a person transfigured in a supernatural light, and that the
credulity of his followers saw the moon, or the moon's light,
descend upon him, pierce his garments, and replenish him. That
veneration for the moon which still forms a national or rather
religious characteristic of the Mahometans, may perhaps have its
foundation in the elder superstition, or pagan idolatry of the Arabs."
[154] No doubt this last sentence contains the true elucidation of the
crescent. For astrolatry lives in the east still. The _Koran_ may
expressly forbid the practice, saying: "Bend not in adoration to the
sun or moon"; [155] yet, "monotheist as he is, the Moslem still claps
his hands at sight of the new moon, and says a prayer." [156]

We come next to the Persians, whom Herodotus accuses of adoring
the sun and moon. But, as Gibbon says, "the Persians of every age
have denied the charge, and explained the equivocal conduct, which
might appear to give colour to it." [157] It will certainly require
considerable explanation to free from lunar idolatry the following
passage, which we find in the _Zend Avesta_: "We sacrifice unto
the new moon, the holy and master of holiness: we sacrifice unto the
full moon, the holy and master of holiness." [158] Unquestionably
the Persian recognised the Lord of Light _in_ the ordinances of
heaven; and therefore his was superior to many forms of blind
idol-worship. So far we may accept Hegel's interpretation of the _Zend_
doctrine. "Light is the _body of Ormuzd_; thence the worship of
fire, because Ormuzd is present in all light; but he is not the sun or
moon itself In these the Persians venerate only the light, which is
Ormuzd." [159] In fact, we owe to the Persians a valuable testimony
to the God in whom is no darkness at all. "The prayer of Ajax was
for light"; and we too little feel the Fire which burns and shines
beyond the stars.

In Central India the sun and moon are worshipped by many tribes,
as the Khonds, Korkús, Tunguses, and Buraets. The Korkús adore
the powers of nature, as the gods of the tiger, bison, the hill, the
cholera, etc., "but these are all secondary to the sun and the moon,
which among this branch of the Kolarian stock, as among the Kols
in the far east, are the principal objects of adoration." [160a]
"Although the Tongusy in general worship the sun and moon, there
are many exceptions to this observation. I have found intelligent
people among them, who believed that there was a being superior to
both sun and moon; and who created them and all the world."
[160b] This last sentence we read with gratitude, but not with
surprise. There is some good in all, if there seem to be all good in

"The aboriginal tribes in the Dekkan of India also acknowledge the
presence of the sun and moon by an act of reverence." [161]

The inhabitants of the island of Celebes, in the East Indian
Archipelago, "formerly acknowledged no gods but the sun and the
moon, which were held to be eternal. Ambition for superiority made
them fall out." [162] According to Milton, ambition created
unpleasantness in the Hebrew heaven.

In Northern Asia the moon had adoring admirers among the
Samoyedes, the Morduans, the Tschuwasches, and other tribes. This
is stated by Sir John Lubbock. [163] Lord Kames says: "The people
of Borneo worship the sun and moon as real divinities. The
Samoides worship both, bowing to them morning and evening in the
Persian manner." [164] The _Samoides_ are the "salmon-eaters" of

Moon-worship in China is of ancient origin, and exists in our own
time. Professor Legge tells us that the primitive _shih_ "is the
symbol for manifestation and revelation. The upper part of it is the
same as that in the older form of Tî, indicating 'what is above'; but
of the three lines below I have not found a satisfactory account. Hsü
Shan says they represent 'the sun, moon, and stars,' and that the
whole symbolizes 'the indications by these bodies of the will of
Heaven! Shih therefore tells us that the Chinese fathers believed that
there was communication between heaven and men. The idea of
revelation did not shock them. The special interpretation of the
strokes below, however, if it were established, would lead us to
think that even then, so far back, there was the commencement of
astrological superstition, and also, perhaps, of Sabian worship."
[165] Sabianism, as most readers are aware, is the adoration of the
armies of heaven: the word being derived from the Hebrew _tzaba_,
a host. Dr. Legge leaves Chinese Sabianism in some doubt, in the
above quotation; but later on he speaks of the spirits associated with
the solstitial worship, whose intercession was thus secured, "I, the
emperor of the Great Illustrious dynasty, have respectfully prepared
this paper, to inform the spirit of the sun, the spirit of the moon, the
spirits of the five planets, of the constellations of the zodiac, and of
all the stars in all the sky," and so on: and the professor adds: "This
paper shows how there had grown up around the primitive
monotheism of China the recognition and worship of a multitude of
celestial and terrestrial spirits." [166] This is ample evidence to
prove moon-worship. True, these celestial beings were "but
ministering spirits," and the "monotheism remained." There was no
_henotheism_, no worship of several _single_ supreme deities:
_One only_ was supreme. So among the Hebrews, Persians,
Hindoos, there was one only God; and yet they offered prayers and
sacrifices to heaven's visible and innumerable host. When we come
to modern China we shall find some very remarkable celebrations
taking place, which throw sunlight upon these ancient mists.
Meanwhile to strengthen our position, we may draw additional
support from each of the three great stages reached in the progress
of Chinese religion: namely, Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism.
Dr. Edkins describes them as the moral, materialistic, and
metaphysical systems, standing at the three corners of a great
triangle. [167] The god of Confucianism is _Shang-tî_ or _Shang-te_.
And with the universal anthropomorphism "Shang-te is the
great father of gods and men: Shang-te is a gigantic man." [168]
Again "Heaven is a great man, and man is a little heaven." [169]
And now what does Confucianism say of moon-worship? "The sun
and moon being the chief objects of veneration to the most ancient
ancestors of the Chinese, they translated the soul of their great father
heaven or the first man (Shang-te) to the sun, and the soul of their
great mother earth or the first woman (the female half of the first
man) to the moon." [170] In Taoism there is no room for question.
Dr. Legge says that it had its Chang and Liû, and "many more gods,
supreme gods, celestial gods, great gods, and divine rulers." [171]
And Dr. Edkins writes: "The Taouist mythology resembles, in
several points, that of many heathen nations. Some of its divinities
personate those beings that are supposed to reside in the various
departments of nature. Many of the stars are worshipped as gods."
[172] Buddhism not only supplies further evidence, it also furnishes
a noteworthy instance of mythic transformation. Sakchi or Sasi, the
moon, is literally one who made a sacrifice. This refers to the legend
of the hare who gave himself to feed the god. The wife of Indra
adopted the hare's name, and was herself called Sasi. "The Tantra
school gave every deity its Sakti or consort, and speculation
enlarged the meaning of the term still further, making it designate
female energy or the female principle." [173] Buddhism, then, the
popular religion in China at the present day, the religion which Dr.
Farrar ventures to call "atheism fast merging into idolatry," [174] is
not free from the nature worship which deifies the moon. But
Buddhism, like most other imperfect systems, has precious gold
mixed with its dross; and at the expense of a digression we delight
to quote the statement of a recent writer, who says: "There is no
record, known to me, in the whole of the long history of Buddhism,
throughout the many countries where its followers have been for
such lengthened periods supreme, of any persecution by the
Buddhists of the followers of any other faith." [175] How glad we
should feel if we could assert the same of the Christian Church!

We come at once to those celebrations which still take place in
China, and illustrate the worship of the moon. The festival of
_Yue-Ping_--which is held annually during the eighth month, from the
first day when the moon is new, to the fifteenth, when it is full--is of
high antiquity and of deep interest. Dr. Morrison says that "the
custom of civil and military officers going on the first and fifteenth
of every moon to the civil and military temples to burn incense,
began in the time of the Luh Chaon," which would be not far from
A.D. 550. Also that the "eighth month, fifteenth day, is called
Chung-tsew-tsëë. It is said that the Emperor Ming-hwang, of the
dynasty Tang, was one night led to the palace of the moon, where he
saw a large assembly of Chang-go-sëën-neu--female divinities
playing on instruments of music. Persons now, from the first to the
fifteenth, make cakes like the moon, of various sizes, and paint
figures upon them: these are called Yue-ping, 'mooncakes.' Friends
and relations pay visits, purchase and present the cakes to each
other, and give entertainments. At full moon they spread out
oblations and make prostrations to the moon." [176] Dennys writes:
"The fifteenth day of the eighth month is a day on which a
ceremony is performed by the Chinese, which of all others we
should least expect to find imitated among ourselves. Most people
resident in China have seen the moon-cakes which so delight the
heart of the Chinese during the eighth month of every year. These
are made for an autumnal festival often described as 'congratulating'
or 'rewarding' the moon. The moon, it is well known, represents the
female principle in Chinese celestial cosmogony, and she is further
supposed to be inhabited by a multitude of beautiful females; the
cakes made in her honour are therefore veritable offerings to the
Queen of the Heavens. Now in a part of Lancashire, on the banks of
the Ribble, there exists a precisely similar custom of making cakes
in honour of the 'Queen of Heaven,'--a relic, in all probability, of the
old heathen worship which was the common fount of the two
customs." [177] Witness is also borne to this ceremony by a
well-known traveller. "We arrived at Chaborté on the fifteenth day of the
eighth moon, the anniversary of great rejoicings among the Chinese.
This festival, known as the _Yue-Ping_ (loaves of the moon), dates
from the remotest antiquity. Its original purpose was to honour the
moon with superstitious rites. On this solemn day, all labour is
suspended; the workmen receive from their employers a present of
money, every person puts on his best clothes; and there is
merry-making in every family. Relations and friends interchange cakes of
various sizes, on which is stamped the image of the moon; that is to
say, a hare crouching amid a small group of trees." [178] And
Doolittle says: "It is always full moon on the fifteenth of every
Chinese month; and, therefore, for several days previous, the
evenings are bright, unless it happens to be cloudy, which is not
often the case. The moon is a prominent object of attention and
congratulation at this time. At Canton, it is said, offerings are made
to the moon on the fifteenth. On the following day, young people
amuse themselves by playing what is called _'pursuing_,' or
'_congratulating_' the moon. At this city [Fuhchau], in the
observance of this festival, the expression '_rewarding the moon_' is
more frequently used than 'congratulating the moon.' It is a common
saying that there is 'a white rabbit in the moon pounding out rice.'
The dark and the white spots on the moon's face suggest the idea of
that animal engaged in the useful employment of shelling rice. The
notion is prevalent that the moon is inhabited by a multitude of
beautiful females, who are called by the name of an ancient beauty
who once visited that planet; but how they live, and what they do, is
not a matter of knowledge or of common fame. To the question, 'Is
the moon inhabited?' discussed by some Western philosophers, the
Chinese would answer in the affirmative. Several species of trees
and flowers are supposed to flourish in the moon. Some say that,
one night in ancient times, one of the three souls of the originator of
theatrical plays rambled away to the moon and paid a visit to the
Lunar Palace. He found it filled with Lunarians engaged in
theatrical performances. He is said to have remembered the manner
of conducting fashionable theatres in the moon, and to have imitated
them after his return to this earth. About the time of the festival of
the middle of autumn, the bake shops provide an immense amount
and variety of cakes: many of them are circular, in imitation of the
shape of the moon at that time, and are from six to twelve inches in
diameter. Some are in the form of a pagoda, or of a horse and rider,
or of a fish, or other animals which please and cause the cake to be
readily sold. Some of these 'moon-cakes' have a white rabbit,
engaged with his pounder, painted on one side, together with a lunar
beauty, and some trees or shrubs; on others are painted gods or
goddesses, animals, flowers, or persons, according to fancy." [179]

If we turn now to Jeremiah vii. 18, and read there, "The women
knead dough, to make cakes to the Queen of Heaven, and to pour
out drink offerings unto other gods," and remember that, according
to Rashi, these cakes of the Hebrews had the image of the god or
goddess stamped upon them, we are in view of a fact of much
interest. We are so unaccustomed to think that our peasants in
Lancashire can have anything in common with the Chinese five
thousand miles away, and with the Jews of two thousand five
hundred years ago, that to many these moon-cakes will give a
genuine surprise. But this is not all. Other analogies appear between
Buddhist and Christian rites, such as those mentioned by Dr.
Medhurst. "The very titles of their intercessors, such as 'goddess of
mercy,' 'holy mother,' 'queen of heaven,' with the image of a virgin,
having a child in her arms, holding a cross, are all such striking
coincidences, that the Catholic missionaries were greatly stumbled
at the resemblance between the Chinese worship and their own,
when they came over to convert the natives to Christianity." [180] It
is for the philosophical historian to show, if possible, whether these
Chinese ceremonies are copies of Christian or Hebrew originals; or
whether, many of our own Western forms with others of Oriental
character, are not transcripts of primitive faiths now well-nigh
forgotten in both East and West. The hot cross buns of Good Friday,
at first sight, have little relevancy to moon worship, and those who
eat them suppose they were originated to commemorate the
Christian Sacrifice; but we know that the cross was a sacred symbol
with the earliest Egyptians, for it is carved upon their imperishable
records; we know too that _bun_ itself is ancient Greek, and that
Winckelmann relates the discovery at Herculaneum of two perfect
buns, each marked with a cross: while the _boun_ described by
Hesychius was a cake with a representation of _two horns_.
Incredible as it may seem to some, the cross bun in its origin had
nothing to do with an event with which it is in England identified; it
probably commemorates the worship of the moon. In passing from
China, we may also note the influence of that sexuality of which we
have spoken before. Dr. Medhurst remarks: "The principle of the
Chinese cosmogony seems to be founded on a sexual system of the
universe." [181]

Dr. Prichard tells us that among the Japanese "sacred festivals are
held at certain seasons of the year and at changes of the moon."
Also, "It appears that _Sin-too_, or original Japanese religion, is
merely a form of the worship of material objects, common to all the
nations of Northern Asia, which, among the more civilized tribes,
assumes the aspect of mythology." [182]

From Asia we come to Africa, and to Egypt, that wonderful land
with a lithographed history at least five thousand years old; a land
that basked in the sunshine of civilization and culture when nearly
the whole world without was in shadow and gloom. The mighty
pyramid of Gizeh still stands, a monument of former national
greatness, and a marvel to the admirer of sublimity in design and
perfection in execution. "The setting of the sides to the cardinal
points is so exact as to prove that the Egyptians were excellent
observers of the elementary facts of astronomy." [183] But they
went farther. Diodorus says: "The first generation of men in Egypt,
contemplating the beauty of the superior world, and admiring with
astonishment the frame and order of the universe, judged that there
were two chief gods that were eternal, that is to say, the sun and the
moon, the first of which they called _Osiris_, and the other _Isis_."
[184] This passage is proof that the Greeks and Romans had a very
limited acquaintance with Egyptian mythology; for the historian
was indubitably in error in supposing Osiris and Isis to be sun and
moon. But he was right in calling the sun and moon the first gods of
the Egyptians. Rawlinson says: "The Egyptians had two moon-gods,
Khons or Khonsu, and Tet or Thoth." [185] Dr. Birch has translated
an inscription relating to Thoth, which reads: "All eyes are open on
thee, and all men worship thee as a god." [186] And M. Renouf
says: "The Egyptian god Tehuti is known to the readers of Plato
under the name of Thoyth. He represents the moon, which he wears
upon his head, either as crescent or as full disk." [187] The same
learned Egyptologist tells us that Khonsu or Chonsu was one of the
triad of Theban gods, and was the moon one of his attributes being
the reckoner of time. [188] Of the former divinity, Rawlinson
relates an instructive myth. "According to one legend Thoth once
wrote a wonderful book, full of wisdom and science, containing in it
everything relating to the fowls of the air, the fishes of the sea, and
the four-footed beasts of the mountains. The man who knew a single
page of the work could charm the heaven, the earth, the great abyss,
the mountains and the seas. This marvellous composition he
inclosed in a box of gold, which he placed within a box of silver; the
box of silver within a box of ivory and ebony, and that again within
a box of bronze; the box of bronze within a box of brass; and the
box of brass within a box of iron; and the book, thus guarded, he
threw into the Nile at Coptos. The fact became known, and the book
was searched for and found. It gave its possessor vast knowledge
and magical power, but it always brought on him misfortune. What
became of it ultimately does not appear in the manuscript from
which this account is taken; but the moral of the story seems to be
the common one, that unlawful knowledge is punished by all kinds
of calamity." [189] There is also a story of the moon-god Chonsu,
which is worthy of repetition. Its original is in the _Bibliothèque
Nationale_ at Paris, and for its first translation we are indebted to
Dr. Birch, of the British Museum. [190] A certain Asiatic princess
of Bechten, wherever that was, was possessed by a spirit. Being
connected, through her sister's marriage, with the court of Egypt, on
her falling ill, an Egyptian practitioner was summoned to her aid.
He declared that she had a demon, with which he himself was
unable to cope. Thereupon the image of the moon-god Chonsu was
despatched in his mystic ark, for the purpose of exorcising the spirit
and delivering the princess. The demon at once yielded to the divine
influence; and the king of Bechten was so delighted that he kept the
image in his possession for upwards of three years. In consequence
of an alarming dream he then sent him back to Egypt with presents
of great value. Whatever evil powers the moon may have exerted
since, we must credit him with having once ejected an evil spirit and
prolonged a royal life.

Returning to Thoth, we find the following valuable hints in the great
work of Baron Bunsen:--"The connection between Tet and the moon
may allude, according to Wilkinson, to the primitive use of a lunar
year. The ancients had already remarked that the moon in Egyptian
was masculine, not feminine, as the Greeks and Romans generally
made it. Still we have no right to suppose a particular moon-god,
separate from Thoth. We meet with a deity called after the moon
(Aah) either as a mere personification, or as Thoth, in whom the
agency of the moon and nature become a living principle. We find
him so represented in the tombs of the Ramesseum, opposite to
Phre; a similar representation in Dendyra is probably symbolical.
According to Champollion he is often seen in the train of Ammon,
and then he is Thoth. He makes him green, with the four sceptres
and cup of Ptah, by the side of which, however, is a sort of Horus
curl, the infantine lock, as child or son. In the inscriptions there is
usually only the crescent, but on one occasion the sign _nuter_
(god) is added. In the tombs a moon-god is represented sitting on a
bark, and holding the sceptre of benign power, to whom two
Cynocephali are doing homage, followed by the Crescent and Nuter
god. Lastly, the same god is found in a standing posture,
worshipped by two souls and two Cynocephali." [191]

With these "dog-headed" worshippers of the moon may be
associated another animal that from an early date has been
connected with the luminaries of the day and night. We saw that the
Australian moon-myth of Mityan was of a native cat. Renouf says:
"It is not improbable that the cat, in Egyptian _mäu_, became the
symbol of the Sun-god, or Day, because the word mäu also means
light." [192] Charles James Fox, with no thought of Egyptian, told
the Prince of Wales that "cats always prefer the sunshine." The
native land of this domestic pet, or nuisance, is certainly Persia, and
some etymologists assign _pers_ as the origin of _puss_. Be this as
it may, the pupil of a cat's eye is singularly changeable, dilating
from the narrow line in the day-time to the luminous orb in the dark.
On this account the cat is likened to the moon. But in Egypt feline
eyes shine with supernatural lustre. Mr. Hyde Clarke tells us that
"the mummies of cats, which Herodotus saw at Bubastis, attested
then, as they do now, to the dedication of the cat to Pasht, the moon,
and the veneration of the Egyptians for this animal. The cat must
have been known to man, and have been named at least as early as
the origin of language. The superstition of its connection with the
moon is also of pre-historic date, and not invented by the Egyptians.
According to Plutarch, a cat placed in a lustrum denoted the moon,
illustrating the mutual symbology. He supposes that this is because
the pupils of a cat's eyes dilate and decrease with the moon. The
reason most probably depends, as before intimated, on another
phenomenon of periodicity corresponding to the month. Dr. Rae
has, however, called my attention to another possible cause of the
association, which is the fact that the cat's eyes glisten at night or in
the dark. It is to be observed that the name of the sun in the Malayan
and North American languages is the day-eye, or sky-eye, and that
of the moon the night-eye." [193] Our own daisy, too, is the _day's
eye_, resembling the sun, and opening its little pearly lashes when
the spring wakes to newness of life.

The Nubians "pay adoration to the moon; and that their worship is
performed with pleasure and satisfaction, is obvious every night that
she shines. Coming out from the darkness of their huts, they say a
few words upon seeing her brightness, and testify great joy, by
motions of their feet and hands, at the first appearance of the new
moon." [194] The Shangalla worship the moon, and think that "a
star passing near the horns of the moon denotes the coming of an
enemy." [195] In Western Africa moon-worship is very prevalent.
Merolla says: "They that keep idols in their houses, every first day
of the moon are obliged to anoint them with a sort of red wood
powdered. At the appearance of every new moon, these people fall
on their knees, or else cry out, standing and clapping their hands, 'So
may I renew my life as thou art renewed.'" [196]

H. H. Johnston, Esq., F.Z.S., F.R.G.S., who had just returned from
the region of the Congo, related the following curious incident
before the Anthropological Institute, in January, 1884. It looks
remarkably like a relic of ancient worship, which gave the fruit of
the body for the sin of the soul, and committed murder on earth to
awaken mercy in heaven! "At certain villages between Manyanga
and Isangila there are curious eunuch dances to celebrate the new
moon, in which a white cock is thrown up into the air alive, with
clipped wings, and as it falls towards the ground it is caught and
plucked by the eunuchs. I was told that originally this used to be a
human sacrifice, and that a young boy or girl was thrown up into the
air and torn to pieces by the eunuchs as he or she fell, but that of late
years slaves had got scarce or manners milder, and a white cock was
now substituted." [197]

The Mandingoes are more attracted to the varying moon than to the
sun. "On the first appearance of the new moon, which they look
upon to be newly created, the Pagan natives, as well as
Mahomedans, say a short prayer; and this seems to be the only
visible adoration which the Kaffirs offer up to the Supreme Being."
The purport of this prayer is "to return thanks to God for His
kindness through the existence of the past moon, and to solicit a
continuation of His favour during that of the new one." [198] Park
writes on another page: "When the fast month was almost at an end,
the Bushreens assembled at the Misura to watch for the appearance
of the new moon; but the evening being rather cloudy, they were for
some time disappointed, and a number of them had gone home with
a resolution to fast another day, when on a sudden this delightful
object showed her sharp horns from behind a cloud, and was
welcomed with the clapping of hands, beating of drums, firing
muskets, and other marks of rejoicing." [199] The Makololo and
Bechuana custom of greeting the new moon is curious. "They watch
most eagerly for the first glimpse of the new moon, and when they
perceive the faint outline after the sun has set deep in the west, they
utter a loud shout of 'Ku?!' and vociferate prayers to it." [200] The
degraded Hottentots have not much improved since Bory de St.
Vincent described them as "brutish, lazy, and stupid," and their
worship of the moon is still demonstrative, as when Kolben wrote:
"These dances and noises are religious honours and invocations
to the moon. They call her _Gounja_. The Supreme they call
_Gounja-Gounja_, or _Gounja Ticquoa_, the god of gods, and place him
far above the moon. The moon, with them, is an inferior visible god
--the subject and representation of the High and Invisible. They
judge the moon to have the disposal of the weather, and invoke her
for such as they want. They assemble for the celebration of her
worship at full and change constantly. No inclemency of the
weather prevents them. And their behaviour at those times is indeed
very astonishing. They throw their bodies into a thousand different
distortions, and make mouths and faces strangely ridiculous and
horrid. Now they throw themselves flat on the ground, screaming
out a strange, unintelligible jargon. Then jumping up on a sudden,
and stamping like mad (insomuch that they make the ground shake),
they direct, with open throats, the following expressions, among
others, to the moon: '_I salute you; you are welcome. Grant us
fodder for our cattle and milk in abundance_.' These and other
addresses to the moon they repeat over and over, accompanying
them with dancing and clapping of hands. At the end of the dance
they sing '_Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!_' many times over, with a variation of
notes; which being accompanied with clapping of hands makes a
very odd and a very merry entertainment to a stranger." [201] In
reality they hold a primitive watch-night service; their welcome of
the new moon being very similar to our popular welcome of the new
year. Nor should it be omitted that the ancient Ethiopians
worshipped the moon; and that those who lived above Meroë
admitted the existence of eternal and incorruptible gods, among
which the moon ranked as a chief divinity.

Descending the Nile and crossing the Mediterranean, we come to

     "The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece
          Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
     Where grew the arts of war and peace,
          Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung
     Eternal summer gilds them yet,
          But all, except their sun, is set." [202]

Yes, Pericles and Plato, Sophocles and Pheidias, are dust; and much
of their nation's pristine glory has "melted into the infinite azure of
the past": but the sun shines as youthful yet as on that eventful day
when unwearied he sank in ocean, "loth, and ere his time:

     "So the sun sank, and all the host had rest
     From onset and the changeful chance of war." [203]

Where Phoebus sprang, sprang Phoebe also--the bright and beautiful
moon. To a people addicted to the idolatry of perfect form and
comeliness, no object could be more attractive than the queen of the
night. When Socrates was accused of innovating upon the Greek
religion, and of ridiculing the Athenian deities, he replied on his
trial, "You strange man, Melêtus, are you seriously affirming that I
do not think Helios and Selene to be gods, as the rest of mankind
think?" [204] Pausanias, the historian, tells us that in Phocis there
was a chapel consecrated to Isis, which of all the places erected by
the Greeks to this Egyptian goddess was by far the most holy. It was
not lawful for any one to approach this sacred edifice but those
whom the goddess had invited by appearing to them for that purpose
in a dream. [205] By Isis, as we saw from Diodorus, the Greeks
understood the moon. Diana was also one of the Grecian moon-goddesses,
but Sir George C. Lewis thinks that this was not till a
comparatively late period. The religion of Greece was so mixed up,
or made up, with mythology, that for an interpretation of their
theogony we must resort to poetry and impersonation. Here again
we see the working of sexual anthropomorphism. _Ouranos_
espoused _Ge_, and their offspring was _Kronos_; which is but an
ancient mode of saying that chronology is the measurement on earth
of heavenly motion. Solar and lunar worship was but the recognition
in the primitive consciousness of the superior _worth-ship_ of these
celestial bodies. As Grote says: "To us these now appear puerile,
though pleasing fancies, but to our Homeric Greek they seemed
perfectly natural and plausible. In his view, the description of the
sun, as given in a modern astronomical treatise, would have
appeared not merely absurd, but repulsive and impious." [206] What
an amount of misunderstanding would be obviated if readers of the
Bible would bear this in mind when they meet with erroneous
conceptions in Hebrew cosmogony. Grote further says on the same
page of his magnificent history: "Personifying fiction was blended
by the Homeric Greeks with their conception of the physical
phenomena before them, not simply in the way of poetical
ornament, but as a genuine portion of their everyday belief." We
cannot better conclude our brief glance at ancient Greece than by
quoting that splendid comparison from the bard of Chios, which
Pope thought "the most beautiful night-piece that can be found in
poetry." Pope's own version is fine, but, as a translation, Lord
Derby's must be preferred:

     "As when in heaven, around the glittering moon
     The stars shine bright amid the breathless air;
     And every crag and every jutting peak
     Stands boldly forth, and every forest glade
     Even to the gates of heaven is opened wide
     The boundless sky; shines each particular star
     Distinct; joy fills the gazing shepherd's heart." [207]

The Romans had many gods, superior and inferior. The former were
the _celestial_ deities, twelve in number, among whom was Diana;
and the _Dii Selecti_, numbering eight. Of these, one was Luna, the
moon, daughter of Hyperion and sister of the Sun. [208] Livy
speaks of "a temple of Luna, which is on the Aventine"; and Tacitus
mentions, in his Annals, a temple consecrated to the moon. In
Horace, Luna is "_siderum regina_"; [209] and in Apuleius,
"_Regina coeli_," [210] Bishop Warburton, in his synopsis of
Apuleius, speaks of the hopeless condition of _Lucius_, which
obliged him to fly to heaven for relief. "The _moon_ is in full
splendour; and the awful silence of the night inspires him with
sentiments of religion." He then purifies himself, and so makes his
prayer to the moon, invoking her by her several names, as the
celestial _Venus_ and _Diana_. [211] This whole section of the
_Divine Legation_ is worthy of close study.

"The ancient Goths," says Rudbeck ("Atalantis," ii. 609), "paid such
regard to the moon, that some have thought that they worshipped
her more than the sun." [212]

And of the ancient Germans Grimm says: "That to our remote
ancestry the heavenly bodies, especially the sun and moon, were
divine beings, will not admit of any doubt." [213] Gibbon, Friedrich
Schlegel, and others, say the same.

The Finns worshipped "Kun, the male god of the moon, who
corresponded exactly with the Aku, Enizuna, or Itu of the
Accadians." [214]

In ancient Britain the moon occupied a high position in the religion
of the Druids, who had superstitious rites at the lunar changes, and
who are "always represented as having the crescent in their hands."
[215] "From the _Penitential_ of Theodore, Archbishop of
Canterbury, in the seventh century, and the _Confessional_ of
Ecgbert, Archbishop of York, in the early part of the eighth century,
we may infer that homage was then offered to the sun and moon."
[216] Again, "There are many proofs, direct and circumstantial, that
place it beyond all doubt that the moon was one of the objects of
heathen worship in Britain. But under what name the moon was
invoked is not discoverable, unless it may have been Andraste,
the goddess to whom the British queen Boadicea, with hands
outstretched to heaven, appealed when about to engage in battle
with the Romans." [217] A writer of the seventeenth century, says:
"In Yorkeshire, etc., northwards, some country woemen do-e
worship the New Moon on their bare knees, kneeling upon an
earthfast stone. And the people of Athol, in the High-lands in
Scotland, doe worship the New Moon." [218] Camden writes of the
Irish: "Whether or no they worship the moon, I know not; but, when
they first see her after the change, they commonly bow the knee,
and say the Lord's Prayer; and near the wane, address themselves to
her with a loud voice, after this manner: 'Leave us as well as thou
foundest us.'" [219] Sylvester O'Halloran, the Irish general and
historian, speaking of "the correspondent customs of the
Phoenicians and the Irish," adds: "Their deities were the same. They
both adored Bel, or the sun, the Moon, and the stars. The house of
Rimmon (2 Kings v. 18), which the Phoenicians worshipped in, like
our temples of Fleachta, in Meath, was sacred to the moon. The
word 'Rimmon' has by no means been understood by the different
commentators; and yet by recurring to the Irish (a branch of the
Phoenicians) it becomes very intelligible; for _Re_ is Irish for the
moon, and _Muadh_ signifies an image; and the compound word
_Reamham_ signifies prognosticating by the appearances of the
moon. It appears by the life of our great St. Columba, that the Druid
temples were _here_ decorated with figures of the sun, the moon,
and the stars. The Phoenicians, under the name of Bel-Samen,
adored the Supreme; and it is pretty remarkable that _to this very
day_, to wish a friend every happiness this life can afford, we say in
Irish, '_the blessings of Samen and Eel be with you_!' that is, of all
the seasons; Bel signifying the sun, and Samhain the moon." [220]
And again: "Next to the sun was the moon, which the Irish
undoubtedly adored. Some remains of this worship may be traced,
even at this day; as particularly borrowing, if they should not have it
about them, a piece of silver on the first night of a new moon, as an
omen of plenty during the month; and at the same time saying in
Irish, 'As you have found us in peace and prosperity, so leave us in
grace and mercy.'" [221] Tuathal, the prince to whom the estates
(_circa_ A.D. 106) swore solemnly "by the sun, moon, and stars," to
bear true allegiance, "in that portion of the imperial domain taken
from Munster, erected a magnificent temple called Flachta, sacred
to the fire of Samhain, and to the Samnothei, or priests of the moon.
Here, on every eve of November, were the fires of Samhain lighted
up, with great pomp and ceremony, the monarch, the Druids, and
the chiefs of the kingdom attending; and from this holy fire, and no
other, was every fire in the land first lit for the winter. It was
deemed an act of the highest impiety to kindle the winter fires from
any other; and for this favour the head of every house paid a
Scrubal, or threepence, tax, to the Arch-Druid of Samhain." [222]
Another writer mentions another Irish moon-god. "The next heathen
divinity which I would bring under notice is St. Luan, _alias_
Molua, _alias_ Euan, _alias_ Lugidus, _alias_ Lugad, and Moling,
etc. The foundations, with which this saint under some of his
_aliases_ is connected, extend over eight counties in the provinces
of Ulster, Leinster, and Munster. Luan is to this; day the common
Irish word for the moon. We read that there were fifteen saints of
the name of Lugadius; and as Lugidus was one of Luan's _aliases_, I
have set them all down as representing the moon in the several
places where that planet was worshipped as the symbol of Female
nature." [223] We have already seen that the moon was the
embodiment of the female principle in China, and now we see that
the primitive Kelts associated sexuality with astronomy and
religion. It but further proves that "one touch of nature makes the
whole world kin."

Moreover, to show that former moon-worship still colours our
religion, it is not to be overlooked that, as our Christmas festivities
are but a continuation of the Roman saturnalia, with their
interchanges of visits and presents, so "the Church, celebrating in
August the festival of the harvest moon, celebrates at the same time
the feast of the Assumption and of the Sacred Heart of the Virgin.
And Catholic painters, following the description in the Apocalypse,
fondly depict her as 'clothed with the sun, and having the moon
under her feet,' and both as overriding the dragon. Even the triumph
of Easter is not celebrated until, by attaining its full, the moon
accords its aid and sanction. Is it not interesting thus to discover the
true note of Catholicism in the most ancient paganisms, and to find
that the moon, which for us is incarnate in the blessed Virgin Mary,
was for the Syrians and Greeks respectively personified in the virgin
Ashtoreth, the queen of heaven, and Diana, or Phoebe, the feminine
of Phoebus?" [224]

A recent contributor to one of our valuable serials writes: "I take the
following extract from a little book published under the auspices of
Dr. Barnardo. It is the 'truthful narrative' of a little sweep-girl picked
up in the streets of some place near Brighton, and 'admitted into Dr.
Barnardo's Village Home.' 'She had apparently no knowledge of
God or sense of His presence. The only thing she had any reverence
for was the moon. On one occasion, when the children were going
to evening service, and a beautiful moon was shining, one of them
pointed to it, exclaiming, 'Oh, mother! look, what a beautiful moon!'
Little Mary caught hold of her hand, and cried, 'Yer mustn't point at
the blessed moon like that; and yer mustn't talk about it!' Was it
from constantly sleeping under hedges and in barns, and waking up
and seeing that bright calm eye looking at her, that some sense of a
mysterious Presence had come upon the child?" [225] To this query,
the answer we think should be negative. The cause more likely was
that she had heard the common tradition which is yet current in East
Lancashire, Cumberland, and elsewhere, that it is a sin to point at
the moon. Certain old gentlemen, who ought to be better informed,
still touch their hats, and devout young girls in the country districts
still curtsey, to the new moon, as an act of worship.

The American races practise luniolatry very generally. The
Dakotahs worship both sun and moon. The Delaware and Iroquois
Indians sacrifice to these orbs, and it is most singular that "they
sacrifice to a hare, because, according to report, the first ancestor of
the Indian tribes had that name." But, although they receive in a
dream as their tutelar spirits, the sun, moon, owl, buffalo, and so
forth, "they positively deny that they pay any adoration to these
subordinate good spirits, and affirm that they only worship the true
God, through them." [226] This reminds us of some excellent
remarks made by one whose intimate acquaintance with North
American Indians entitled him to speak with authority. We have
seen from Dr. Legge's writings that though the Chinese worshipped
a multitude of celestial spirits, "yet the monotheism remained." Mr.
Catlin will now assure us that though the American Indians adore
the heavenly bodies, they recognise the Great Spirit who inhabits
them all. These are his words: "I have heard it said by some very
good men, and some who have even been preaching the Christian
religion amongst them, that they have no religion--that all their zeal
in their worship of the Great Spirit was but the foolish excess of
ignorant superstition--that their humble devotions and supplications
to the sun and the moon, where many of them suppose that the
Great Spirit resides, were but the absurd rantings of idolatry. To
such opinions as these I never yet gave answer, nor drew other
instant inferences from them, than that, from the bottom of my
heart, I pitied the persons who gave them." [227] Mr. Catlin
undoubtedly was right, as the Apostle Paul was right, when he
acknowledged that the Athenians worshipped the true God, albeit in
ignorance. At the same time, though idolatry is in numberless
instances nothing more than the use of media and mediators, in
seeking the One, Invisible, Absolute Spirit, it is so naturally abused
by sensuous beings who rest in the concrete, that no image
worshipper is free from the propensity to worship the creature more
than the Creator, and to forget the Essence in familiarity with the
form. The perfection of worship, we conceive, is pure theism; but
how few are capable of breathing in such a supersensuous air! Men
must have their "means of grace," their visible symbols, their holy
waters and consecrated wafers, their crucifixes and talismans, their
silver shrines and golden calves. "These be thy gods, O Israel."

"The Ahts undoubtedly worship the sun and the moon, particularly
the full moon, and the sun while ascending to the zenith. Like the
Teutons, they regard the moon as the husband, and the sun as the
wife; hence their prayers are more generally addressed to the moon,
as being the superior deity. The moon is the highest of all the
objects of their worship; and they describe the moon--I quote the
words of my Indian informant--as looking down upon the earth in
answer to prayer, and as seeing everybody." [228] Of the Indians of
Vancouver Island, another writer says: "The moon is among all the
heavenly bodies the highest object of veneration. When working at
the settlement at Alberni in gangs by moonlight, individuals have
been observed to look up to the moon, blow a breath, and utter
quickly the word, '_Teech! teech!_' (health, or life). Life! life! this is
the great prayer of these people's hearts." [229] "Among the
Comanches of Texas, the sun, moon, and earth are the principal
objects of worship." The Kaniagmioutes consider the moon and sun
to be brother and sister. [230]

Meztli was the moon as deified by the Mexicans. In Teotihuacan,
thirty miles north of the city of Mexico, is the site of an ancient city
twenty miles in circumference. Near the centre of this spot stand the
Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon. The Pyramid of
the Sun has a base 682 feet long and is 180 feet high (the Pyramid
of Cheops is 728 feet at the base, and is 448 feet in height). The
Pyramid of the Moon is rather less, and is due north of that of the
Sun. [231] No doubt the philosophy of all pyramids would show
that they embody the uplifting of the human soul towards the
Heaven-Father of all.

In Northern Mexico still "the Ceris superstitiously celebrate the new
moon." [232] This luniolatry the Abbé Brasseur de Bourbourg
explains by a novel theory. He holds that the forefathers of
American civilization lived in a certain Crescent land in the Atlantic
that a physical catastrophe destroyed their country whereupon the
remnant that was saved commemorated their lost land by adopting
the moon as their god. [233] "The population of Central America,"
says the Vicomte de Bussierre, "although they had preserved the
vague notion of a superior eternal God and Creator, known by the
name Teotl, had an Olympus as numerous as that of the Greeks and
the Romans. It would appear that the inhabitants of Anahuac joined
to the idea of a supreme being the worship of the sun and the moon,
offering them flowers, fruits, and the first fruits of their fields."
[234] Dr. Reville bids us "note that the ancient Central-American
cultus of the sun and moon, considered as the two supreme deities,
was by no means renounced by the Aztecs." [235] Regarding this
remarkable race, a writer in the _Quarterly Review_ for April, 1883,
says: "Even the Chaldaeans were not greater astrologers than the
Aztecs, and we need no further proof that the heavenly bodies were
closely and accurately observed, than we find in the fact that the
true length of the tropical year had been ascertained long before
scientific instruments were even thought of. Their religious festivals
were regulated by the movements of these bodies; but with their
knowledge was mingled so vast a mass of superstition, that it is
difficult to discern a gleam of light through the thick darkness."
"The Botocudos of Brazil held the moon in high veneration, and
attributed to her influence the chief phenomena in nature." [236]
The Indian of the Coroados tribe in Brazil, "chained to the present,
hardly ever raises his eyes to the starry firmament. Yet he is
actuated by a certain awe of some constellations, as of everything
that indicates a spiritual connection of things. His chief attention,
however, is not directed to the sun, but to the moon; according to
which he calculates time, and from which he is used to deduce good
and evil." [237]

The celebrated Abipones honour with silver altars and adoration the
moon, which they call the consort of the sun, and certain stars,
which they term the handmaids of the moon: but their most singular
idea is that the Pleiades represent their grandfather; and "as that
constellation disappears at certain periods from the sky of South
America, upon such occasions they suppose that their grandfather is
sick, and are under a yearly apprehension that he is going to die; but
as soon as those seven stars are again visible in the month of May,
they welcome their grandfather, as if returned and restored from
sickness, with joyful shouts, and the festive sound of pipes and
trumpets, congratulating him on the recovery of his health." [238]

The Peruvians "acknowledge no other gods than the Pachacamac,
who is the supreme, and the Sun, who is inferior to him, and the
Moon, who is his sister and wife." [239] In the religion of the Incas
the idol (huaco) of the Moon was in charge of women, and when it
was brought from the house of the Sun, to be worshipped, it was
carried on their shoulders, because they said "it was a woman, and
the figure resembled one."  [240]_Pachacamac_, the great deity
mentioned above, signifies "earth-animator."

Prescott, in describing the temple of the Sun, at Cuzco in Peru, tells
us that "adjoining the principal structure were several chapels of
smaller dimensions. One of them was consecrated to the Moon, the
deity held next in reverence, as the mother of the Incas. Her effigy
was delineated in the same manner as that of the Sun, on a vast plate
that nearly covered one side of the apartment. But this plate, as well
as all the decorations of the building, was of silver, as suited to the
pale, silvery light of the beautiful planet." [241]

In the far-off New Hebrides the Eramangans "worship the moon,
having images in the form of the new and full moons, made of a
kind of stone. They do not pray to these images, but cleave to them
as their protecting gods." [242]

We have now circumnavigated the globe, touching at many points,
within many degrees of latitude and longitude. But everywhere,
among men of different literatures and languages, colours and
creeds, we have discovered the worship of the moon. No nation has
outgrown the practice, for it obtains among the polished as well as
the rude. One thing, indeed, we ought to have had impressed upon
our minds with fresh force; namely, that we often draw the lines of
demarcation too broad between those whom we are pleased to
divide into the civilized and the savage. Israelite and heathen,
Grecian and barbarian, Roman and pagan, enlightened and
benighted, saintly and sinful, are fine distinctions from the Hebrew,
Greek, Roman, enlightened, and saintly sides of the question; but
they often reflect small credit upon the wisdom and generosity of
their authors. The antipodal Eramangan who cleaves to his moon
image for protection may be quite equal, both intellectually and
morally, with the Anglo-Saxon who still wears his amulet to ward
off disease, or nails up his horse-shoe, as Nelson did to the mast of
the _Victory_, as a guarantee of good luck. Sir George Grey has
written: "It must be borne in mind, that the native races, who
believed in these traditions or superstitions, are in no way deficient
in intellect, and in no respect incapable of receiving the truths of
Christianity; on the contrary, they readily embrace its doctrines and
submit to its rules; in our schools they stand a fair comparison with
Europeans; and, when instructed in Christian truths, blush at their
own former ignorance and superstitions, and look back with shame
and loathing upon their previous state of wickedness and credulity."


We design this chapter to be the completion of moon-worship, and
at the same time an anticipation of those lunary superstitions which
are but scattered leaves from luniolatry, the parent tree. If the new
moon, with its waxing light, may represent the primitive
nature-worship which spread over the earth; and the full moon, the deity
who is supposed to regulate our reservoirs and supplies of water: the
waning moon may fitly typify the grotesque and sickly superstition,
which, under the progress of radiant science and spiritual religion, is
readier every hour to vanish away.

"The name Astarte was variously identified with the moon, as
distinguished from the sun, or with air and water, as opposed in
their qualities to fire. The name of this goddess represented to the
worshipper the great female parent of all animated things, variously
conceived of as the moon, the earth, the watery element, primeval
night, the eldest of the destinies." [244] It is worthy of note that Van
Helmont, in the seventeenth century, holds similar language. His
words are, "The moon is chief over the night darkness, rest, death,
and the waters." [245] It is also remarkable that in the language of
the Algonquins of North America the ideas of night, death, cold,
sleep, water, and moon are expressed by one and the same word.
[246] In the oriental mythology "the connection between the moon
and water suggests the idea that the moon produces fertility and
freshness in the soil." [247] "Al Zamakhshari, the commentator on
the Koran, derives _Manah_ (one of the three idols worshipped by
the Arabs before the time of Mohammad) from the root 'to flow,'
because of the blood which flowed at the sacrifices to this idol, or,
as Millius explains it, because the ancient idea of the moon was that
it was a star full of moisture, with which it filled the sublunary
regions." [248] The Persians held that the moon was the cause of an
abundant supply of water and of rain, and therefore the names of the
most fruitful places in Persia are compounded with the word _mâh_,
"moon"; "for in the opinion of the Iranians the growth of plants
depends on the influence of the moon." [249] In India "the moon is
generally a male, for its most popular names, _Candras_, _Indus_,
and _Somas_, are masculine; but as Somas signifies ambrosia, the
moon, as giver of ambrosia, soon came to be considered a
milk-giving cow; in fact, moon is one among the various meanings given
in Sanskrit to the word Gâus (cow). The moon, Somas, who
illumines the nocturnal sky, and the pluvial sun, Indras, who during
the night, or the winter, prepares the light of morn, or spring, are
represented as companions; a young girl, the evening, or autumnal
twilight, who goes to draw water towards night, or winter, finds in
the well, and takes to Indras, the ambrosial moon, that is, the Somas
whom he loves. Here are the very words of the Vedic hymn: 'The
young girl, descending towards the water, found the moon in the
fountain, and said: I will take you to Indras, I will take you to
Çakras; flow, O moon, and envelop Indras.'" [250] Here in India we
again find our old friend "the frog in the moon." "It is especially
Indus who satisfies the frog's desire for rain. Indus, as the moon,
brings or announces the Somas, or the rain; the frog, croaking,
announces or brings the rain; and at this point the frog, which we
have seen identified at first with the cloud, is also identified with the
pluvial moon." [251] This myth is not lacking in involution.

In China "the moon is regarded as chief and director of everything
subject in the kosmic system to the Yin [feminine] principle, such as
darkness, the earth, female creatures, water, etc. Thus Pao P'ah Tsze
declares with reference to the tides: 'The vital essence of the moon
governs water: and hence, when the moon is at its brightest, the
tides are high.'" [252] According to the Japanese fairy tale the moon
was to "rule over the new-born earth and the blue waste of the sea,
with its multitudinous salt waters." [253] Thus we see that
throughout Asia, "as lord of moisture and humidity, the moon is
connected with growth and the nurturing power of the peaceful
night." [254]

Of the kindred of the Pharaohs, Plutarch observes: "The sun and
moon were described by the Egyptians as sailing round the world in
boats, intimating that these bodies owe their power of moving, as
well as their support and nourishment, to the principle of humidity"
(Plut. de Isid. s. 34): which statement Sir J. Gardner Wilkinson says
is confirmed by the sculptures. The moon-god Khons bears in his
hands either a palm-branch or "the Nilometer." When the Egyptians
sacrificed a pig to the moon, "the first sacred emblem they carried
was a _hydria_, or water-pitcher." At another festival the Egyptians
"marched in procession towards the sea-side, whither likewise the
priests and other proper officers carried the sacred chest, inclosing a
small boat or vessel of gold, into which they first poured some fresh
water; and then all present cried out with a loud voice 'Osiris is
found.' This ceremony being ended, they threw a little fresh mould,
together with rich odours and spices, into the water, mixing the
whole mass together, and working it up into a little image in the
shape of a crescent. The image was afterwards dressed and adorned
with a proper habit, and the whole was intended to intimate that they
looked upon these gods as the essence and power of earth and
water." [255]

The Austro-Hungarians have a man in the moon who is a sort of
aquarius. Grimm says: "Water, an essential part of the Norse myth,
is wanting in the story of the man with the thorn bush, but it
reappears in the Carniolan story cited in Bretano's Libussa (p. 421):
the man in the moon is called Kotar, he makes her grow by pouring
water." [256] The Scandinavian legend, distilled into Jack and Jill,
is, as we have seen, an embodiment of early European belief that the
ebb and flow of the tides were dependent upon the motions and
mutations of the moon.

We find the same notion prevailing in the western hemisphere. "As
the MOON is associated with the dampness and dews of night, an
ancient and widespread myth identified her with the goddess of
water. Moreover, in spite of the expostulations of the learned, the
common people the world over persist in attributing to her a marked
influence on the rains. Whether false or true, this familiar opinion is
of great antiquity, and was decidedly approved by the Indians, who
were all, in the words of an old author, 'great observers of the
weather by the moon.' They looked upon her, not only as
forewarning them by her appearance of the approach of rains and
fogs, but as being their actual cause. Isis, her Egyptian title, literally
means moisture; Ataensic, whom the Hurons said was the moon, is
derived from the word for water; and Citatli and Atl, moon and
water, are constantly confounded in Aztec theology." [257] One of
the gods of the Dakotahs was "Unk-ta-he (god of the water). The
Dakotahs say that this god and its associates are seen in their
dreams. It is the master-spirit of all their juggling and superstitious
belief, From it the medicine men obtain their supernatural powers,
and a great part of their religion springs from this god." [258]
Brinton also says of this large Indian nation, "that Muktahe, spirit of
water, is the master of dreams and witchcraft, is the belief of the
Dakotahs." [259] We know that the Dakotahs worshipped the moon,
and therefore see no difficulty in identifying that divinity with their
god of dreams and water. "In the legend of the Muyscas it is Chia,
the moon, who was also goddess of water and flooded the earth out
of spite." [260] In this myth the moon is a malevolent deity, and
water, usually a symbol of life, becomes an agency of death.
Reactions are constantly occurring in the myth-making process. The
god is male or female, good or evil, angry or amiable, according to
the season or climate, the aspect of nature or the mood of the
people. "In hot countries," says Sir John Lubbock, "the sun is
generally regarded as an evil, and in cold as a beneficent being."
[261] We are willing to accept this, with allowance. There is little
question that taking men as a whole they are mainly optimistic in
their judgments respecting the gifts of earth and the glories of
heaven. Mr. Brinton, in reference to the imagined destructiveness of
the water deity, writes: "Another reaction in the mythological
laboratory is here disclosed. As the good qualities of water were
attributed to the goddess of night, sleep, and death, so her
malevolent traits were in turn reflected back on this element.
Taking, however, American religions as a whole, water is far more
frequently represented as producing beneficent effects than the
reverse." [262]

"The time of full moon was chosen both in Mexico and Peru to
celebrate the festival of the deities of water, the patrons of
agriculture, and very generally the ceremonies connected with the
crops were regulated by her phases. The Nicaraguans said that the
god of rains, Quiateot, rose in the east, thus hinting how this
connection originated." [263] "The Muyscas of the high plains of
Bogota were once, they said, savages without agriculture, religion,
or law; but there came to them from the east an old and bearded
man, Bochica, the child of the sun, and he taught them to till the
fields, to clothe themselves, to worship the gods, to become a
nation. But Bochica had a wicked, beautiful wife, Huythaca, who
loved to spite and spoil her husband's work; and she it was who
made the river swell till the land was covered by a flood, and but a
few of mankind escaped upon the mountain tops. Then Bochica was
wroth, and he drove the wicked Huythaca from the earth, and made
her the moon, for there had been no moon before; and he cleft the
rocks and made the mighty cataract of Tequendama, to let the
deluge flow away. Then, when the land was dry, he gave to the
remnant of mankind the year and its periodic sacrifices, and the
worship of the sun. Now the people who told this myth had not
forgotten, what indeed we might guess without their help, that
Bochica was himself Zuhé, the sun, and Huytheca, the sun's wife,
the moon." [264] This interesting and instructive legend, to which
we alluded before in a brief quotation from Mr. Brinton, is worthy
of reproduction in its fuller form, and fitly concludes our moon
mythology and worship, as it presents a synoptical view of the chief
points to which our attention has been turned. It shows us primitive
or primeval man, the dawn of civilization, the daybreak of religion,
the upgrowth of national life. In its solar husband and lunar wife it
embraces that anthropomorphism and sexuality which we think
have been and still are the principal factors in the production of
legendary and religious impersonations. It includes that dualism
which is one of man's oldest attempts to account for the opposition
of good and evil. And finally it predicts a new humanity, springing
from a remnant of the old; and a progress of brighter years, when,
the deluge having disappeared, the dry land shall be fruitful in every
good; when men shall worship the Father of lights, and "God shall
be all in all."

[*] For further information on the universality of moon-worship, see
_The Ceremonies and Religious Customs of the Various Nations of
the Known World_, by Bernard Picart. London: 1734, folio, vol. iii.



Superstition may be defined as an extravagance of faith and fear:
not what Ecclesiastes calls being "righteous overmuch," but
religious reverence in excess. Some etymologists say that the word
originally meant a "_standing_ still _over_ or by a thing" in fear,
wonder, or dread. [265] Brewer's definition is rather more classical:
"That which survives when its companions are dead (Latin,
_supersto_). Those who escaped in battle were called _superstitës_.
Superstition is that religion which remains when real religion is
dead; that fear and awe and worship paid to the religious impression
which survives in the mind when correct notions of Deity no longer
exist." [266] Hooker says that superstition "is always joined with a
wrong opinion touching things divine. Superstition is, when things
are either abhorred or observed with a zealous or fearful, but
erroneous relation to God. By means whereof the superstitious do
sometimes serve, though the true God, yet with needless offices, and
defraud Him of duties necessary; sometimes load others than Him
with such honours as properly are His." [267] A Bampton Lecturer
on this subject says: "Superstition is an _unreasonable belief_ of
that which is mistaken for truth concerning the nature of God and
the invisible world, our relations to these unseen objects, and the
duties which spring out of those relations." [268]

We may next briefly inquire into the origin of the thing, which, of
course, is older than the word. Burton will help us to an easy
answer. He tells us that "the _primum mobile_, and first mover of
all superstition, is the devil, that great enemy of mankind, the
principal agent, who in a thousand several shapes, after divers
fashions, with several engines, illusions, and by several names, hath
deceived the inhabitants of the earth, in several places and countries,
still rejoicing at their falls." [269] Verily this protean, omnipresent,
and malignant devil has proved himself a great convenience! He has
been the scapegoat upon whom we have laid the responsibility of all
our mortal woe: and now we learn that to his infernal influence we
are indebted for our ignorance and superstition. Henceforth, when
we are at our wit's end, we may apostrophize the difficulty, and
exclaim, "O thou invisible spirit, if thou hast no name to be known
by, let us call thee devil!" We hesitate to spoil this serviceable
illusion: for as we have known some good people, of a sort, who
would be distressed to find that there was no hell to burn up the
opponents of their orthodoxy; we fear lest many would be
disappointed if they found out that the infernal spirit was not at the
bottom of our abysmal ignorance. But we will give even the devil
his due. We are not like Sir William Brown, who "could never bring
himself heartily to hate the devil." We can, wherever we find him;
but we think it only honest to father our own mental deficiencies, as
well as our moral delinquencies, and instead of seeking a substitute
to use the available remedy. "To err is human"; and it is in humanity
itself that we shall discover the source of superstition. We are the
descendants of ancestors who were the children of the world, and
we were ourselves children not so long ago. Childhood is the age of
fancy and fiction; of sensitiveness to outer influences; of
impressions of things as they seem, not as they are. When we
become men we put away childish things; and in the manhood of
our race we shall banish many of the idols and ideas which please us
while we grow. Darwin has told us that our "judgment will not
rarely err from ignorance and weak powers of reasoning. Hence the
strangest customs and superstitions, in complete opposition to the
true welfare and happiness of mankind, have become all-powerful
throughout the world. How so many absurd rules of conduct, as well
as so many absurd religious beliefs, have originated, we do not
know; nor how it is that they have become, in all quarters of the
world, so deeply impressed on the mind of men; but it is worthy of
remark that a belief constantly inculcated during the early years of
life, whilst the brain is impressible, appears to acquire almost the
nature of an instinct; and the very essence of an instinct is that it is
followed independently of reason." [270]

But if superstition be the result of imperfection, there is no
gainsaying the fact that it is productive of infinite evil; and on this
account it has been attributed to a diabolical paternity. Bacon even
affirms that "it were better to have no opinion of God at all, than
such an opinion as is unworthy of Him; for the one is unbelief, the
other is contumely: and certainly superstition is the reproach of the
Deity." [271] Most heartily do we hold with Dr. Thomas Browne:
"It is not enough to believe in God as an irresistible power that
presides over the universe; for this a malignant demon might be. It
is necessary for our devout happiness that we should believe in Him
as that pure and gracious Being who is the encourager of our virtues
and the comforter of our sorrows.

     Quantum religio potuit suadere malorum,

exclaims the Epicurean poet, in thinking of the evils which
superstition, characterized by that ambiguous name, had produced;
and where a fierce or gloomy superstition has usurped the influence
which religion graciously exercises only for purposes of
benevolence to man, whom she makes happy with a present
enjoyment, by the very expression of devout gratitude for happiness
already enjoyed, it would not be easy to estimate the amount of
positive misery which must result from the mere contemplation of a
tyrant in the heavens, and of a creation subject to his cruelty and
caprice." [272] The above quoted line from Lucretius--To such evils
could religion persuade!--is more than the exclamation of righteous
indignation against the sacrifice of Iphigenia by her father,
Agamemnon, at the bidding of a priest, to propitiate a goddess. It is
still further applicable to the long chain of outrageous wrongs which
have been inflicted upon the innocent at the instigation of a stupid
and savage fanaticism. What is worst of all, much of this
bloodthirsty religion has claimed a commission from the God of
love, and performed its detestable deeds in the insulted name of that
"soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit," whom the loftiest and
best of men delight to adore as the Prince of peace. No wonder that
Voltaire cried out, "Christian religion, behold thy consequences!" if
he could calculate that ten million lives had been immolated on the
altar of a spurious Christianity. One hundred thousand were slain in
the Bartholomew massacre alone. Righteousness, peace, and love
were not the monster which Voltaire laboured to crush: he was most
intensely incensed against the blind and bigoted priesthood, against
the malicious and murderous servants who ate the bread of a holy
and harmless Master, against "their intolerance of light and hatred of
knowledge, their fierce yet profoundly contemptible struggles with
one another, the scandals of their casuistry, their besotted cruelty."
[273] We have been betrayed into speaking thus strongly of the
extreme lengths to which superstition will carry those who yield
themselves to its ruthless tyranny. But perhaps we have not gone far
from our subject, after all; for the innocent Iphigenia, whose doom
kindled our ire, was sacrificed to the goddess of the moon.


There are a few phosphorescent fancies about the moon, like _ignes

     "Dancing in murky night o'er fen and lake,"

which we may dispose of in a section by themselves. Those of them
that are mythical are too evanescent to become full-grown myths;
and those which are religious are too volatile to remain in the
solution or salt of any bottled creed. Like the wandering lights of the
Russians, answering to our will-o'-the-wisp, they are the souls of
still-born children. There is, for example, the insubstantial and
formless but pleasing conception of the Indian Veda. In the
Râmâyanam the moon is a good fairy, who in giving light in the
night assumes a benignant aspect and succours the dawn. In the
Vedic hymn, Râkâ, the full moon, is exhorted to sew the work with
a needle which cannot be broken. Here the moon is personified as
preparing during the night her luminous garments, one for the
evening, the other for the morning, the one lunar and of silver, the
other solar and of gold. [274] Another notion, equally airy but more
religious, has sprung up in Christian times and in Catholic countries.
It is that heathen fancy which connects the moon with the Virgin
Mary. Abundant evidence of this association in the minds of Roman
Catholics is furnished by the style of the ornaments which crowd the
continental churches. One of the most conspicuous is the sun and
moon in conjunction, precisely as they are represented on
Babylonian and Grecian coins; and the identification of the Virgin
and her Child with the moon any Roman Catholic cathedral will
show. [275] The _Roman Missal_ will present to any reader "Sancta
Maria, coeli Regina, et mundi Domina"; the _Glories of Mary_ will
exhibit her as the omnipotent mother, Queen of the Universe; and
Ecclesiastical History will declare how, as early as the close of
the fourth century, the women who were called Collyridians
worshipped her "as a goddess, and judged it necessary to appease
her anger, and seek her favour and protection, by libations,
sacrifices, and oblations of cakes (_collyridae_)." [276] This is but a
repetition of the women kneading dough to make cakes to the queen
of heaven, as recorded by Jeremiah; and proves that the relative
position occupied by Astarte in company with Baal, Juno with
Jupiter, Doorga with Brahma, and Ma-tsoo-po with Boodh, is that
occupied by Mary with God. Nay more, she is "Mater Creatoris"
and "Dei Genetrix": Mother of the Creator, Mother of God. Having
thus been enthroned in the position in the universal pantheon which
was once occupied by the moon, what wonder that the ignorant
devotee should see her in that orb, especially as the sun, moon, and
stars of the Apocalypse are her chief symbols. Southey has recorded
a good illustration of this superstitious fancy. "A fine circumstance
occurred in the shipwreck of the _Santiago_, 1585. The ship struck
in the night; the wretched crew had been confessing, singing
litanies, etc., and this they continued till, about two hours before
break of day, the moon arose beautiful and exceeding bright; and
forasmuch as till that time they had been in such darkness that they
could scarcely sec one another when close at hand, such was the stir
among them at beholding the brightness and glory of that orb, that
most part of the crew began to lift up their voices, and with tears,
cries, and groans called upon Our Lady, saying they saw her in the
moon." [277]

The preceding fancies would produce upon the poetic and religious
sense only an agreeable effect. Other hallucinations have wrought
effects of an opposite kind. The face in the moon does not always
wear an amiable aspect, and it is not unnatural that those who have
been taught to believe in angry gods and frowning providences
should see the caricatures of their false teachers reproduced in the
heavens above and in the earth beneath. We are reminded here of
the magic mirror mentioned by Bayle. There is a trick, invented by
Pythagoras, which is performed in the following manner. The moon
being at the full, some one writes with blood on a looking-glass
anything he has a mind to; and having given notice of it to another
person, he stands behind that other and turns towards the moon the
letters written in the glass. The other looking fixedly on the shining
orb reads in it all that is written on the mirror as if it were written on
the moon. [278] This is precisely the _modus operandi_ by which
the knavish have imposed upon the foolish in all ages. The
manipulator of the doctrine stands behind his credulous disciple,
writing out of sight his invented science or theology, and writing too
often with the blood of some innocent victim. The poor patient
student is meanwhile gazing on the moon in dreamy devotion; until
as the writing on the mirror is read with solemn intonation, it all
appears before his moon-struck gaze as a heavenly revelation. Woe
to the truth-loving critic who breaks the enchantment and the mirror,
crying out in the vernacular tongue, Your mysteries are myths, your
writings are frauds; and the fair moon is innocent of the lying

To multitudes the moon has always been an object of terror and
dread. Not only is it a supramundane and magnified man--that it
will always be while its spots are so anthropoid, and man himself is
so anthropomorphic--but it has ever been, and still is, a being of
maleficent and misanthropic disposition. As Mr. Tylor says, "When
the Aleutians thought that if any one gave offence to the moon, he
would fling down stones on the offender and kill him; or when the
moon came down to an Indian squaw, appearing in the form of a
beautiful woman with a child in her arms, and demanding an
offering of tobacco and fur-robes: what conceptions of personal life
could be more distinct than these?" [279] Personal and distinct,
indeed, but far from pleasant. Another author tells us that "in some
parts of Scotland to point at the stars or to do aught that might be
considered an indignity in the face of the sun or moon, is still to be
dreaded and avoided; so also it was not long since, probably still is,
in Devonshire and Cornwall. The Jews seem to have been equally
superstitious on this point (Jer. viii. 1, 2), and the Persians believed
leprosy to be an infliction on those who had committed some
offence against the sun." [280] Southey supplies us with an
illustration of the moon in a fit of dudgeon. He is describing the
sufferings of poor Hans Stade, when he was caught by the
Tupinambas and expected that he was about to die. "The moon was
up, and fixing his eyes upon her, he silently besought God to
vouchsafe him a happy termination of these sufferings. Yeppipo
Wasu, who was one of the chiefs of the horde, and as such had
convoked the meeting, seeing how earnestly he kept gazing
upwards, asked him what he was looking at. Hans had ceased from
praying, and was observing the man in the moon, and fancying that
he looked angry; his mind was broken down by continual terror, and
he says it seemed to him at that moment as if he were hated by God,
and by all things which God had created. The question only half
roused him from this phantasy, and he answered, it was plain that
the moon was angry. The savage asked whom she was angry with,
and then Hans, as if he had recollected himself, replied that she was
looking at his dwelling. This enraged him, and Hans found it
prudent to say that perhaps her eyes were turned so wrathfully upon
the Carios; in which opinion the chief assented, and wished she
might destroy them all." [281] Some such superstitious fear must
have furnished the warp into which the following Icelandic story
was woven. "There was once a sheep-stealer who sat down in a
lonely place, with a leg of mutton in his hand, in order to feast upon
it, for he had just stolen it. The moon shone bright and clear, not a
single cloud being there in heaven to hide her. While enjoying his
gay feast, the impudent thief cut a piece off the meat, and, putting it
on the point of his knife, accosted the moon with these godless

          'O moon, wilt thou
          On thy mouth now
     This dainty bit of mutton-meat?'

Then a voice came from the heavens, saying:--

          'Wouldst thou, thief, like
          Thy cheek to strike
     This fair key, scorching-red with heat?'

At the same moment, a red-hot key fell from the sky on to the cheek
of the thief, burning on it a mark which he carried with him ever
afterwards. Hence arose the custom in ancient times of branding or
marking thieves." [282] The moral influence of this tale is excellent,
and has the cordial admiration of all who hate robbery and
effrontery: at the same time it exhibits the moon as an irascible
body, with which no liberty may be taken. In short, it is an object of
superstitious awe.

One other lunar fancy, born and bred in fear, is connected with the
abominable superstition of witchcraft. Abominable, unquestionably,
the evil was; but justice compels us to add that the remedy of
relentless and ruthless persecution with which it was sought to
remove the pest was a reign of abhorrent and atrocious cruelty. Into
the question itself we dare not enter, lest we should be ourselves
bewitched. We know that divination by supposed supernatural
agency existed among the Hebrews, that magical incantations were
practised among the Greeks and Romans, and that more modern
witchcraft has been contemporaneous with the progress of
Christianity. But we must dismiss the subject in one borrowed
sentence. "The main source from which we derived this superstition
is the East, and traditions and facts incorporated in our religion.
There were only wanted the ferment of thought of the fifteenth
century, the energy, ignorance, enthusiasm, and faith of those days,
and the papal denunciation of witchcraft by the bull of Innocent the
Eighth, in 1459, to give fury to the delusion. And from this time, for
three centuries, the flames at which more than a hundred thousand
victims perished cast a lurid light over Europe." [283] The singular
notion, which we wish to present, is the ancient belief that witches
could control the moon. In the _Clouds_ of Aristophanes,
Strepsiades tells Socrates that he has "a notion calculated to deprive
of interest"; which is as follows:--

     "_Str_. If I were to buy a Thessalian witch, and draw down the
          moon by night, then shut her up in a round helmet-case, like a
          mirror, and then keep watching her--"

     "_Soc_. What good would that do you, then?"

     "_Str_. What? If the moon were not to rise any more anywhere, I
          should not pay the interest."

     "_Soc_. Because what?"

     "_Str_. Because the money is lent by the month." [284]

Shakespeare alludes to this, where Prospero says, "His mother was a
witch, and one so strong that could control the moon" (_Tempest_,
Act v.).

If the witch's broom, on whose stick she rode to the moon, be a type
of the wind, we may guess how the fancy grew up that the airy
creation could control those atmospheric vapours on which the light
and humidity of the night were supposed to depend. [285]


All round the globe, from time immemorial, those periodic
phenomena known as solar and lunar eclipses have been occasions
of mental disquietude and superstitious alarm. Though now
regarded as perfectly natural and regular, they have seemed so
preternatural and irregular to the unscientific eye that we cannot
wonder at the consternation which they have caused. And it must be
confessed that a total obscuration of the sun in the middle of the day
casts such a gloom over the earth that men not usually timid are still
excusable if during the parenthesis they feel a temporary uneasiness,
and are relieved when the ruler of the day emerges from his dark
chamber, apparently rejoicing to renew his race. An eclipse of the
moon, though less awe-inspiring, is nevertheless sufficiently so to
awaken in the superstitious brain fearful forebodings of impending
calamity. Science may demonstrate that there is nothing abnormal in
these occurrences, but to the seeker after signs it wilt be throwing
words away; for, as Lord Kames says, "Superstitious eyes are never
opened by instruction."

We will now produce a number of testimonies to show how these
lunar eclipses have been viewed among the various races of the
earth in ancient and modern times. The Chaldaeans were careful
observers of eclipses, and Berosus believed that when the moon was
obscured she turned to us her dark side. Anaximenes said that her
mouth was stopped. Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics, and the
Mathematicians said that she fell into conjunction with the bright
sun. Anaxagoras of Clazomenae (born B.C. 499) was the first to
explain the eclipse of the moon as caused by the shadow of the earth
cast by the sun. But he was as one born out of due time. We are all
familiar with the use made by students of unfulfilled prophecy of
every extraordinary occurrence in nature, such as the sudden
appearance of a comet, an earthquake, an eclipse, etc. We know
how mysteriously they interpret those simple passages in the Bible
about the sun being darkened and the moon being turned into blood.
If they were not wilfully blind, such facts as are established by the
following quotations would open their eyes to the errors in their
exegesis. At any rate, they would find their theories anticipated in
nearly every particular by those very heathen whom they are wont
to pity as so benighted and hopelessly lost.

Grimm writes: "One of the most terrible phenomena to heathens
was an _eclipse_ of the sun or moon, which they associated with a
destruction of all things and the end of the world. I may safely
assume that the same superstitious notions and practices attend
eclipses among nations ancient and modern. The Indian belief is that
a serpent eats up the sun and moon when they arc eclipsed, or a
demon devours them. To this day the Hindoos consider that a giant
lays hold of the luminaries and tries to swallow them. The Chinese
call the solar eclipse zhishi (solis devoratio), the lunar yueshi (lunae
devoratio), and ascribe them both to the machinations of a dragon.
Nearly all the populations of Northern Asia hold the same opinion.
The Finns of Europe, the Lithuanians, and the Moors in Africa, have
a similar belief." [286] Flammarion says: "Among the ancient
nations people used to come to the assistance of the moon, by
making a confused noise with all kinds of instruments, when it was
eclipsed. It is even done now in Persia and some parts of China,
where they fancy that the moon is fighting with a great dragon, and
they think the noise will make him loose his hold and take to flight.
Among the East Indians they have the same belief that when the sun
and the moon are eclipsed, a dragon is seizing them, and
astronomers who go there to observe eclipses are troubled by the
fears of their native attendants, and by their endeavours to get into
the water as the best place under the circumstances. In America the
idea is that the sun and moon are tired when they are eclipsed. But
the more refined Greeks believed for a long time that the moon was
bewitched, and that the magicians made it descend from heaven to
put into the herbs a certain maleficent froth. Perhaps the idea of the
dragon arose from the ancient custom of calling the places in the
heavens at which the eclipses of the moon took place the head and
tail of the dragon." [287] Sir Edward Sherburne, in his "Annotations
upon the _Medea_," quaintly says: "Of the beating of kettles,
basons, and other brazen vessels used by the ancients when the
moone was eclipsed (which they did to drown the charms of
witches, that the moon might not hear them, and so be drawne from
her spheare as they suppos'd), I shall not need to speake, being a
thing so generally knowne, a custom continued among the Turks to
this day; yet I cannot but adde, and wonder at, what Joseph Scaliger,
in his 'Annotations upon Manilius,' reports out of Bonincontrius, an
ancient commentator upon the same poet, who affirms that in a
town of Italy where he lived (within these two centuries of yeares),
he saw the same piece of paganisme acted upon the like occasion."
[288] Another, and more recent writer, also says of these eclipses:
"The Chinese imagine them to be caused by great dragons trying to
devour the sun and moon, and beat drums and brass kettles to make
the monsters give up their prey. Some of the tribes of American
Indians speak of the moon as hunted by huge dogs, catching and
tearing her till her soft light is reddened and put out by the blood
flowing from her wounds. To this day in India the native beats his
gong, as the moon passes across the sun's face, and it is not so very
long ago that in Europe both eclipses and rushing comets were
thought to show that troubles were near." [289] Respecting China, a
modern traveller speaks in not very complimentary language. "If
there is on the earth a nation absorbed by the affairs of this world
and who trouble themselves little about what passes among the
heavenly bodies, it is assuredly the Chinese. The most erudite
among them just know of the existence of astronomy, or, as they
call it, _tienwen_--'celestial literature.' But they are ignorant of the
simplest principles of the science, and those who regard an eclipse
as a natural phenomenon, instead of a dragon who is seeking to
devour the sun and moon, are enlightened indeed." [290] This
statement ought to be taken with more than one _granum salis_,
especially as Mrs. Somerville assures us that the Chinese had made
advances in the science of astronomy 1,100 years before the
Christian era, and also adds: "Their whole chronology is founded on
the observation of eclipses, which prove the existence of that empire
for more than 4,700 years." [291] With this discount the charge
against Chinese ignorance may be passed. "A Mongolian myth
makes out that the gods determined to punish Arakho for his
misdeeds, but he hid so effectually that no one could find out his
lurking-place. They therefore asked the _sun_, who gave an
unsatisfactory answer; but when they asked the _moon_, she
disclosed his whereabouts. So Arakho was dragged forth and
chastised; in revenge of which he _pursues both sun and moon_,
and whenever he comes to hand-grips with one of them, _an eclipse
occurs_. To help the lights of heaven in their sad plight, a
_tremendous uproar_ is made with musical and other instruments,
till Arakho is scared away." [292] "Referring to the Shoo, Pt. III.,
Bk. IV., parag. 4, we find this sentence: 'On the first day of the last
month of autumn the sun and moon did not meet harmoniously in
Fang.'" [293] In less euphemistic phrase, the sun and moon were

Dr. Wells Williams describes an interesting scene. "In the middle of
the sixth moon lanterns are hung from the top of a pole placed on
the highest part of the house. A single small lantern is deemed
sufficient, but if the night be calm, a greater display is made by
some householders, and especially in boats, by exhibiting coloured
glass lamps arranged in various ways. The illumination of a city like
Canton, when seen from a high spot, is made still more brilliant by
the moving boats on the river. On one of these festivals at Canton,
an almost total eclipse of the moon called out the entire population,
each one carrying something with which to make a noise, kettles,
pans, sticks, drums, gongs, guns, crackers, and what not to frighten
away the dragon of the sky from his hideous feast. The advancing
shadow gradually caused the myriads of lanterns to show more and
more distinctly, and started a still increasing clamour, till the
darkness and the noise were both at their climax. Silence gradually
resumed its sway as the moon recovered her fulness." [294] On
another page Dr. Williams tells us that "some clouds having on one
occasion covered the sky, so that an eclipse could not be seen, the
courtiers joyfully repaired to the emperor to felicitate him that
Heaven, touched by his virtues, had spared him the pain of
witnessing the 'eating of the sun.'" [295] The following passage
from Doolittle's work on the Chinese is sufficiently interesting to be
given without abridgment: "It is a part of the official duties of
mandarins to 'save the sun and moon when eclipsed.' Prospective
eclipses are never noticed in the Imperial Calendar, published
originally at Peking, and republished in the provinces. The imperial
astronomers at the capital, a considerable time previous to a visible
eclipse, inform the Board of Rites of its month, day, and hour.
These officers send this intelligence to the viceroys or governors of
the eighteen provinces of the empire. These, in turn, communicate
the information to all the principal subordinate officers in the
provinces of the civil and the military grade. The officers make
arrangements to save the moon or the sun at the appointed time. On
the day of the eclipse, or on the day preceding it, some of them put
up a written notice in or near their yamuns, for the information of
the public.

"The Chinese generally have no rational idea of the cause of
eclipses. The common explanation is that the sun or the moon has
experienced some disaster. Some even affirm that the object
eclipsed is being devoured by an immense ravenous monster. This is
the most popular sentiment in Fuhchau in regard to the procuring
cause of eclipses. All look upon the object eclipsed with wonder.
Many are filled with apprehension and terror. Some of the common
people, as well as mandarins generally, enter upon some course of
action, the express object of which is to save the luminary from its
dire calamity, or to rescue it from the jaws of its greedy enemy.
Mandarins must act officially, and in virtue of their being officers of
government. Neither they nor the people seem to regard the
immense distance of the celestial object as at all interfering with the
success of their efforts. The various obstacles which ought
apparently to deter them from attempting to save the object eclipsed
do not seem to have occurred to them at all, or, if they have
occurred, do not appear to be sufficient to cause them to desist from
prosecuting their laudable endeavours. The high mandarins procure
the aid of priests of the Taoist sect at their yamuns. These place an
incense censer and two large candlesticks for holding red candles or
tapers on a table in the principal reception room of the mandarin, or
in the open space in front of it under the open heavens.

"At the commencement of the eclipse the tapers are lighted, and
soon after the mandarin enters, dressed in his official robes. Taking
some sticks of lighted incense in both hands, he makes his
obeisance before or facing the table, raising and depressing the
incense two or three times, according to the established fashion,
before it is placed in the censer. Or sometimes the incense is lighted
and put in the censer by one of the priests employed. The officer
proceeds to perform the high ceremony of kneeling down three
times, and knocking his head on the ground nine times. After this he
rises from his knees. Large gongs and drums near by are now beaten
as loudly as possible. The priests begin to march slowly around the
tables, reciting formulas, etc., which marching they keep up, with
more or less intermissions, until the eclipse has passed off.

"A uniform result always follows these official efforts to save the
sun and the moon. _They are invariably successful_. There is not a
single instance recorded in the annals of the empire when the
measures prescribed in instructions from the emperor's astronomers
at Peking, and correctly carried out in the provinces by the
mandarins, have not resulted in a complete rescue of the object
eclipsed. Doubtless the vast majority of the common people in
China believe that the burning of tapers and incense, the prostration
of the mandarins, the beating of the gongs and drums, and the
recitations on the part of the priests, are signally efficacious in
driving away the voracious monster. They observe that the sun or
the moon does not seem to be permanently injured by the attacks of
its celestial enemy, although a half or nearly the whole appeared to
have been swallowed up. This happy result is doubtless viewed with
much complacency by the parties engaged to bring it about. The
lower classes generally leave the saving of the sun or the moon,
when eclipsed, to their mandarins, as it is a part of their official
business. Some of the people occasionally beat in their houses a
winnowing instrument, made of bamboo splints, on the occasion of
an eclipse. This gives out a loud noise. Some venture to assert that
the din of this instrument penetrates the clouds as high as the very
temple of Heaven itself! The sailors connected with junks at this
place, on the recurrence of a lunar eclipse, always contribute their
aid to rescue the moon by beating their gongs in a most deafening

"Without doubt, most of the mandarins understand the real occasion
of eclipses, or, at least, they have the sense to perceive that nothing
which they can do will have any effect upon the object eclipsed, or
the cause which produces the phenomenon; but they have no
optional course in regard to the matter. They must comply with
established custom, and with the understood will of their superiors.
The imperial astronomers, having been taught the principles of
astronomy and the causes which produce eclipses by the Roman
Catholic missionaries a long while since, of course know that the
common sentiments on the subject are as absurd as the common
customs relating to it are useless. But the emperor and his cabinet
cling to ancient practices, notwithstanding the clearest evidences of
their false and irrational character." [296]

Mr. Herbert Giles accounts for this Chinese obtuseness, or, as some
would have it, opacity, in much the same way. Under the head of
_Natural Phenomena_, he writes: "It is a question of more than
ordinary interest to those who regard the Chinese people as a worthy
object of study, What are the speculations of the working and
uneducated classes concerning such natural phenomena as it is quite
impossible for them to ignore? Their theory of eclipses is well
known, foreign ears being periodically stunned by the gonging of an
excited crowd of natives, who are endeavouring with hideous noises
to prevent some imaginary dog of colossal proportions from
banqueting, as the case may be, upon the sun or moon. At such
laughable exhibitions of native ignorance it will be observed there is
always a fair sprinkling of well-to-do, educated persons, who not
only ought to know better themselves, but should be making some
effort to enlighten their less fortunate countrymen instead of joining
in the din. Such a hold, however, has superstition on the minds of
the best informed in a Chinese community, that under the influence
of any real or supposed danger, philosophy and Confucius are
scattered to the four winds of heaven, and the proudest disciple of
the master proves himself after all but a man." [297] No doubt Mr.
Doolittle and Mr. Giles are both right: custom and superstition form
a twisted rope which pinions the popular mind. But there is yet
another strand to be mentioned which makes the bond a threefold
cord which it will take some time to break. _Prescriptive right_
requires that the official or cultured class in China, answering to the
clerical caste elsewhere, should keep the other classes in ignorance;
because, if science and religion are fellow-helpers, science and
superstition can never dwell together, and the downfall of
superstition in China would be the destruction of imperial despotism
and magisterial tyranny. "Sirs, ye know that by this craft we have
our wealth. But this Paul says that they be no gods, which are made
with hands: so that our craft is in danger to be set at nought. Great is
Diana of the Ephesians!" The mandarins know why they encourage
the mechanics and merchants to save the moon.

We once met a good story in reading one of Jean Astruc's medical
works. "Theodore de Henry, of Paris, coming one time into the
church of St. Dionis, he fell prostrate at the foot of the statue of
Charles the Eighth, as in a sudden fit of devotion. When being told
by one of the monks that was not the image of any saint, he replied,
he was not ignorant of that, but was willing to pay a grateful
acknowledgment to the memory of that prince who had brought the
_Morbus Gallicus_ into France, by which he had made his own
fortune." Herein lies the secret of half of the hypocrisy of the world.
Thank God! the world moves; and the millennium of truth is at

The literature of China is, happily, not all linsey-woolsey. The
following sample is of the finest silk, worthy to adorn the purest

"MING TI of the HOUSE of WEI.

"Reigned 227-239 A.D.

"_On an Eclipse.--A Rescript_. WE have heard that if a sovereign is
remiss in government, Heaven terrifies him by calamities and
strange portents. These are divine reprimands sent to recall him to a
sense of duty. Thus, partial eclipses of the sun and moon are
manifest warnings that the rod of empire is not wielded aright. Ever
since WE ascended the throne, OUR inability to continue the
glorious traditions of our departed ancestors and carry on the great
work of civilization, has now culminated in a warning message from
on high. It therefore behoves Us to issue commands for personal
reformation, in order to avert the impending calamity.

"But the relations of Heaven with Man are those of a father and son;
and a father about to chastise his son would not be deterred were the
latter to present him with a dish of meat. WE do not therefore
consider it part of OUR duty to act in accordance with certain
memorials advising that the prime minister and chief astronomer be
instructed to offer up sacrifices on this occasion. Do ye, governors
of districts and other high officers of State, seek rather to rectify
your own hearts; and if any one can devise means to make up for
OUR shortcomings, let him submit his proposals to the Throne."

The writer of that was "not far from the kingdom of God."

Father Borri, in his account of Cochin China, describes the effect of
a lunar eclipse upon several scholars in the city of Nuoecman in the
province of Pulucambi. "I showed them that the circle of the moon,
on that side the eclipse began, was not so perfect as it should be, and
soon after all the moon being darkened, they perceived the truth of
my prediction. The commander and all of them being astonished,
presently sent to give notice of it to all the ward, and spread the
news of the eclipse throughout the city, that every man might go out
to make the usual noise in favour of the moon; giving out
everywhere that there were no such men as the fathers, whose
doctrine and books could not fail being true, since they had so
exactly foretold the eclipse, which their learned men had taken no
notice of; and therefore, in performance of his promise, the
commander with all his family became Christians, as did many
more of his ward, with some of the most learned men of the city and
others of note." [299] In no unkind spirit we cannot refrain from
noticing, what will strike every reader, how ready divines of all
denominations are to turn the teachings of science to their own
account in the propagation of their faith. It would have been
seemlier for theologians in all ages, if their attitude towards physical
inquirers had been less hostile; they would then have made converts
through eclipses with a better grace. They would, moreover, have
prevented the alienation of many of their truest friends.

Captain Beeckman gives an amusing story of an eclipse in
Cantongee, in the island of Borneo, on the 10th of November, 1714.
"We sat very merry till about eight at night, when, preparing to go to
bed, we heard all on a sudden a most terrible outcry, mixed with
squealing, halloing, whooping, firing of guns, ringing and clattering
of gongs or brass pans, that we were greatly startled, imagining
nothing less but that the city was surprised by the rebels. I ran
immediately to the door, where I found my old fat landlord
roaring and whooping like a man raving mad. This increased my
astonishment, and the noise was so great that I could neither be
heard, nor get an answer to know what the matter was. At last I
cried as loud as possibly I could to the old man to know the reason
of this sad confusion and outcry, who in a great fright pointed up to
the heavens, and said, '_Look there; see, the devil is eating up the
moon_!' I was very glad to hear that there was no other cause of
their fright but their own ignorance. It was only a great eclipse of
the moon. I smiled, and told him that there was no danger; that in a
little while the moon would be as well as ever. Whereupon, catching
fast hold of my sleeve, as I was returning to bed, he asked me if I
was sure on't (for they take us white men to be very wise in those
matters). I assured him I was, and that we always knew many years
before when such a thing would happen; that it proceeded from a
natural cause, according to the course and motion of the sun and
moon, and that the devil had no hand in it. After the eclipse was
over, the old man, being not a little rejoiced, took me in." [300]
Another writer speaks of the East India Islands in general. "There is
to this day hardly a country of the Archipelago in which the
ceremony of frightening the supposed monster from his attack on
the luminary is not performed. This consists in shouting, in striking
gongs, but, above all, in striking their stampers against the sides of
the wooden mortars which are used by the villagers in husking their
corn." [301] That the Indians of the continent regard the phenomena
in question with more than ordinary interest is evinced by their
resorting in large numbers to Benares, the ancient seat of
brahminical learning and religion, on every occasion of an eclipse of
the moon. Lord Kames reminds us that among the Greeks "an
eclipse being held a prognostic given by the gods of some grievous
calamity, Anaxagoras was accused of atheism for attempting to
explain the eclipse of the moon by natural causes: he was thrown
into prison, and with difficulty was relieved by the influence of
Pericles. Protagoras was banished Athens for maintaining the same
doctrine." [302]

Thucydides tells us that an eclipse of the moon delayed the
departure of the expedition against the Syracusans. "The
preparations were made, and they were on the point of sailing, when
the moon, being just then at the full, was eclipsed. The mass of the
army was greatly moved, and called upon the generals to remain.
Nicias himself, who was too much under the influence of divination
and omens, refused even to discuss the question of their removal
until they had remained thrice nine days, as the soothsayers
prescribed. This was the reason why the departure of the Athenians
was finally delayed." [303]

"At any eclipse of the moone, the Romanes would take their brazen
pots and pannes, and beat them, lifting up many torches and linckes
lighted, and firebrandes into the aire, thinking by these superstitious
meanes to reclaime the moone to her light." [304]

_The Constantinople Messenger_ of December 23rd, 1880, contains
the following:--"Mgr. Mamarbasci, who represents the Syrian
Patriarch at the Porte, and who resides in St. Peter's Monastery in
Galata, underwent a singular experience on the evening of the last
eclipse of the moon. Hearing a great noise outside of the firing of
revolvers and pistols, he opened his window to see what could be
the cause of so much waste of powder. Being a native of Aleppo, he
was at no loss to understand the cause of the disturbance as soon as
he cast his eye on the heavens, and he therefore immediately
withdrew his head from the window again. Hardly had he done so,
however, ere a ball smashed the glass into a thousand pieces. Rising
from the seat into which he had but just sat down, he perceived a
conical ball on the floor of his room, which there is every reason to
believe would have killed him on the spot had he remained a
moment longer on the spot he had just quitted. From the yard of the
mosque of Arab-Djami, which is in front of the prelate's window,
the bullet had, it appears, been fired with the intention of frightening
the dragon or bear which, according to oriental superstition, lies in
wait to devour the moon at its eclipse. It is a fortunate circumstance
that the Syrian ecclesiastic escaped scathless from the snares laid to
destroy the celestial dragon." [305]

In the _Edda_, an ancient collection of Scandinavian poetry,
embodying the national mythology, Managarmer is the monster who
sometimes swallows up the moon, and stains the heaven and the air
with blood. "Here," says M. Mallett, "we have the cause of eclipses;
and it is upon this very ancient opinion that the general practice is
founded, of making noises at that time, to fright away the monster,
who would otherwise devour the two great luminaries." [306] Of the
Germans, Grimm says:--"In a lighted candle, if a piece of the wick
gets half detached and makes it burn away too fast, they say 'a
_wolf_ (as well as a thief) is in the candle'; this too is like the wolf
devouring the sun or moon. Eclipses of sun or moon have been a
terror to many heathen nations; the incipient and increasing
obscuration of the luminous orb marks for them the moment when
the gaping jaws of the wolf threaten to devour it, and they think by
loud cries to bring it succour." [307] And again:--"The personality
of the sun and moon shows itself moreover in a fiction that has
well-nigh gone the round of the world. These two, in their unceasing
unflagging career through the void of heaven, appear to be in flight,
avoiding some pursuer. A pair of wolves are on their track, _Sköll_
dogging the steps of the sun, _Hati_ of the moon: they come of a
giant race, the mightiest of whom, Mânagarmr (moon-dog),
apparently but another name for Hati, is sure some day to _overtake
and swallow the moon_." [308] Francis Osborn, whose _Advice_
contains, in the opinion of Hallam, "a considerable sprinkling of
sound sense and observation," thus counsels his son: "Imitate not
the wild Irish or Welch, who, during eclipses, run about beating
kettles and pans, thinking their clamour and vexations available to
the assistance of the higher orbs." [309] "In eclipses of the moon,
the Greenlanders carry boxes and kettles to the roofs of their houses,
and beat on them as hard as they can." [310] With the Californian
Indians, "on an eclipse, all is consternation. They congregate and
sing, as some say to appease, and others to frighten, the evil spirits.
They believe that the devils are eating up the luminary, and they do
not cease until it comes forth in its wonted splendour." [311]
Among certain Indian tribes "dogs were supposed to stand in some
peculiar relation to the moon, probably because they howl at it, and
run at night; uncanny practices which have cost them dear in
reputation. The custom prevailed among tribes so widely asunder as
Peruvians, Tupis, Creeks, Iroquois, Algonkins, and Greenland
Eskimos, to thrash the curs most soundly during an eclipse. The
Creeks explained this by saying that the big dog was swallowing the
sun, and that by whipping the little ones they could make him desist.
What the big dog was they were not prepared to say. We know. It
was the night goddess, represented by the dog, who was thus
shrouding the world at midday." [312]

It is well known that Columbus found his acquaintance with the
calculations of astronomy of great practical value. For when, during
his last expedition, he was reduced to famine by the inhabitants of
the newly discovered continent, who kept him and his companions
prisoners, he, aware that an eclipse was at hand, threatened to
deprive them of the light of the moon, if they did not forthwith bring
him provisions. At first they did not care; but when the moon
disappeared, they brought abundance of supplies, with much
entreaty of pardon. This occurred on the 1st day of March, 1504, a
date which modern tables of lunar eclipses may fully verify.

"In the Mexican mythology we read of the woman serpent, or the
moon, devoured by the sun, a myth probably descriptive of the
changes in the phases of the moon." [313] More probably this myth
referred to the moon's eclipse; for Bradford tells us that "the
Mexicans believed when there was an eclipse of the sun or moon,
that one of those bodies was being devoured by the other. The
Peruvians believed these phenomena portended some great
calamity; that the eclipsed body was sick and about to die, in which
case the world would perish. As soon as an eclipse commenced,
they made a dreadful noise with their musical instruments; they
struck their dogs and made them howl, in the hope that the moon,
which they believed had an affection for those animals in
consequence of some signal service which they had rendered her,
would have pity on their cries. The Araucanians called eclipses the
'deaths' of the sun and moon." [314] In Aglio we are told of the
Mexicans that "in the year of Five Rabbits, or in 1510, there was an
eclipse of the sun; they take no account of the eclipses of the moon,
but only of those of the sun; for they say that the sun devours the
moon when an eclipse of the moon takes place." [315] "The
Tlascaltecs, regarding the sun and the moon as husband and wife,
believed eclipses to be domestic quarrels. Ribas tells how the
Sinaloas held that the moon in an eclipse was darkened with the
dust of battle. Her enemy had come upon her, and a terrible fight,
big with consequence to those on earth, went on in heaven. In wild
excitement the people beat on the sides of their houses, encouraging
the moon, and shooting flights of arrows up into the sky to distract
her adversary. Much the same as this was also done by certain
Californians." [316] "At a lunar eclipse the Orinoko Indians seized
their hoes and laboured with exemplary vigour on their growing
corn, saying the moon was veiling herself in anger at their habitual
laziness." [317] The umbrated moon did good in this way: as many
of us remember the beautiful comet of 1858 did good, when it
frightened some trembling Londoners into a speedy settlement of
old debts, in anticipation of the final account. Ellis says of the
Tahitians: "An eclipse of the moon filled them with dismay; they
supposed the planet was _natua_, or under the influence of the spell
of some evil spirit that was destroying it. Hence they repaired to the
temple, and offered prayers for the moon's release. Some imagined
that on an eclipse, the sun and moon were swallowed by the god
which they had by neglect offended. Liberal presents were offered,
which were supposed to induce the god to abate his anger, and eject
the luminaries of day and night from his stomach." [318] The
Tongans or Friendly Islanders have a notion that the earth's surface
is flat, that the sun and moon "pass through the sky and come back
some way, they know not how. When the moon is eclipsed, they
attribute the phenomenon to a thick cloud passing over it: the same
with the sun." [319] In the Hervey Islands, the common exclamation
during an eclipse is, "Alas! a divinity has devoured the moon!"

Finally, to close this chapter where it commenced, in Chaldaea, the
cradle of _star-reading_, Sir Austen Henry Layard says: "I gained,
as other travellers have done before me, some credit for wisdom and
superhuman knowledge by predicting, through the aid of an
almanack, a partial eclipse of the moon. It duly took place, to the
great dismay of my guests, who well-nigh knocked out the bottoms
of all my kitchen utensils in their endeavour to frighten away the
jins who had thus laid hold of the planet. The common notion
amongst ignorant Mahometans is, that an eclipse is caused by some
evil spirit catching hold of the sun or moon. On such occasions, in
Eastern towns, the whole population assembles with pots, pans, and
other equally rude instruments of music, and, with the aid of their
lungs, make a din and turmoil which might suffice to drive away a
whole army of evil spirits, even at so great a distance." [320] We
have reached three general conclusions. _First_, when the moon is
occulted by the earth it is believed to be devoured by some evil
demon, or by wolves or dogs. This is the superstitious vagary of the
Hindoos, the Chinese, Asiatics generally, Europeans, Africans,
Americans, and Polynesians. _Secondly_, a lunar eclipse is the
precursor of some dreadful calamity to the inhabitants of the earth.
This notion is also traceable in every quarter of the globe. And
_thirdly_, during the obscuration the light of the moon is reddened,
and at last extinguished, by the blood which flows from its wounds;
which belief originates with the _Edda_, and obtains in the Western
world. Students of sacred prophecy may still elect to deem these
occurrences that are purely natural as of supernatural significance,
and may risk the interests of true religion in their insane disregard of
science; but the truth will remain, in spite of their misconceptions,
that eclipses of the moon have no concern with the moral destiny of


The superficies of the earth being twice seven times that of the
moon, what an influence the earth must exercise over its satellite!
We may be unable to describe this influence in all of its effects; but
we may observe its existence in some of its apparent signs. The
moon not only turns while we turn, but its rotations on its axis keep
exact time with its revolutions round our globe; it accompanies us as
we encircle the sun, facing us all the while, never turning its back
upon us; it waits on us like a link-bearer, or lackey; is our admiring
Boswell, living and moving and having its being in the equability it
derives from attending its illustrious master. An African sage once
illustrated this philosophical principle of the greater controlling the
less, by the following fine conundrum. "Why does the dog waggle
his tail?" This problem, being beyond his auditors, was given up.
The sage made answer, "Because the dog is bigger than the tail; else
the tail would waggle the dog." It is alarming to contemplate the
effect which the moon might have upon our august earth, if it were
fourteen times larger instead of fourteen times smaller in extent of
surface. As it is, Luna's influences are so many and so mighty, that
we will require considerable space merely to set them in order, and
to substantiate them with a few facts. We believe that most, if not
all, of them, are the offspring of superstition; but we shall none the
less find them in every land, in every age. In the nineteenth century
as well as in the dark ages, in London as well as in the ends of the
earth, men of all colours and clans are found turning their faces
heavenward to read their duty and destiny in the oracular face of the
moon. Many consult their almanacks more than their Bibles, and
follow the lunar phases as their sole interpretation of the will of

Among those who worship the moon as a personal deity, whether
beneficent or malign, its influences are of course welcomed or
dreaded as the manifestations of supreme power. In South America,
for example, "the Botocudos are said to give the highest rank among
the heavenly bodies to Taru, the moon, as causing thunder and
lightning and the failure of vegetables and fruits, and as even
sometimes falling to the earth, whereby many men die." [321] So, in
Africa, the emotions of the worshippers vary with their subjective
views of their god. "Negro tribes seem almost universally to greet
the new moon, whether in delight or disgust. The Guinea people
fling themselves about with droll gestures, and pretend to throw
firebrands at it; the Ashango men behold it with superstitious fear;
the Fetu negroes jumped thrice into the air with hands together and
gave thanks." [322] But even amongst men who neither personify
nor deify the moon, its dominion over the air, earth, and sea, over
human health and happiness, is held to be so all-important, that if
the Maker and Monarch of all were jealous, as men count jealousy,
such lunar fears and affections would be unpardonable sin.

Let us proceed to particulars, rising from inorganic nature to beings
endowed with the highest instruments of life. Even the mineral
kingdom is supposed to be swayed by the moon; for in Scotland,
Martin says, "The natives told me, that the rock on the east side of
Harries, in the Sound of Island Glass, hath a vacuity near the front,
on the north-west side of the Sound; in which they say there is a
stone that they call the _Lunar Stone_, which advances and retires
according to the increase and decrease of the moon." [323] An
ancient instance of belief in lunar influence upon inanimate matter is
cited by Plutarch. "_Euthydemus_ of _Sunium_ feasted us upon a
time at his house, and set before us a wilde bore, of such bignesse,
that all wee at the table wondred thereat; but he told us that there
was another brought unto him farre greater; mary naught it was, and
corrupted in the carriage, by the beames of the moone-shine;
whereof he made great doubt and question, how it should come to
passe; for that he could not conceive, nor see any reason, but that
the sunne should rather corrupt flesh, being as it was, farre hotter
than the moone." [324] Pliny said that the moon corrupted carcases
of animals exposed to its malefic rays. As with the lifeless, so with
the living. "The inhabitants of St. Kilda observe that when the April
moon goes far in May, the fowls are ten or twelve days later in
laying their eggs than ordinarily they use to be." [325] The influence
of the moon upon vegetation is an opinion hoary with age. In the
_Zend-Avesta_ we read, "And when the light of the moon waxes
warmer, golden-hued plants grow on from the earth during the
spring." [326] An old English author writes:--

     "Sowe peason and beanes, in the wane of the moone,
     Who soweth them sooner, he soweth too soone
     That they with the planet may rest and arise,
     And flourish, with bearing most plentiful wise." [327]

Cucumbers, radishes, turnips, leeks, lilies, horseradish, saffron, and
other plants, are said to increase during the fulness of the moon; but
onions, on the contrary, are much larger and are better nourished
during the decline. [328] To recur to Plutarch is to find him saying:
"The moone showeth her power most evidently even in those
bodies, which have neither sense nor lively breath; for carpenters
reject the timber of trees fallen in the ful-moone, as being soft and
tender, subject also to the worme and putrifaction, and that quickly,
by reason of excessive moisture; husbandmen, likewise, make haste
to gather up their wheat and other grain from the threshing-floore, in
the wane of the moone, and toward the end of the month, that being
hardened thus with drinesse, the heape in the garner may keepe the
better from being fustie, and continue the longer; whereas corne
which is inned and laied up at the full of the moone, by reason of
the softnesse and over-much moisture, of all other, doth most cracke
and burst. It is commonly said also, that if a leaven be laied in the
ful-moone, the paste will rise and take leaven better." [329] Still in
Cornwall the people gather all their medicinal plants when the moon
is of a certain age; which practice is very probably a relic of
druidical superstition. "In some parts it is a prevalent belief that the
growth of mushrooms is influenced by the changes of the moon, and
in Essex the subjoined rule is often scrupulously adhered to:--

     "When the moon is at the full,
     Mushrooms you may freely pull
     But when the moon is on the wane,
     Wait ere you think to pluck again.'" [330]

Henderson says, "I may, perhaps, mention here, that apples are said
to 'shrump up' in Devonshire if picked when the moon is waning."
[331] A writer of miscellaneous literature tells us that "it has been
demonstrated that moonlight has the power, _per se_, of awakening
the sensitive plant, and consequently that it possesses an influence
of some kind on vegetation. It is true that the influence is very
feeble, compared with that of the sun; but the action is established,
and the question remains, what is the practical value of the fact? 'It
will immediately,' says Professor Lindley, 'occur to the reader that
possibly the screens which are drawn down over hothouses at
night, to prevent loss of heat by radiation, may produce some
unappreciated injury by cutting off the rays of the moon, which
nature intended to fall upon plants as much as the rays of the sun."
[332] The same author says elsewhere, "Columella, Cato, Vitruvius,
and Pliny, all had their notions of the advantages of cutting timber at
certain ages of the moon; a piece of mummery which is still
preserved in the royal ordonnances of France to the conservators of
the forests, who are directed to fell oaks only 'in the wane of the
moon' and 'when the wind is at north.'" [333] Of trees, astrologers
affirm that the moon rules the palm tree (which the ancients say
"sends forth a twig every time the moon rises") and all plants, trees,
and herbs that are juicy and full of sap. [334]

"A description of the New Netherlands, written about 1650, remarks
that the savages of that land 'ascribe great influence to the moon
over crops.' This venerable superstition, common to all races, still
lingers among our own farmers, many of whom continue to observe
'the signs of the moon' in sowing grain, setting out trees, cutting
timber, and other rural avocations." [335] What is here said of the
new world applies also to the old; for in England a current
expression in Huntingdonshire is "a dark Christmas sends a fine
harvest": dark meaning moonless.

Of the lunar influence upon the tides, old John Lilly writes: "There
is nothing thought more admirable, or commendable in the sea, than
the ebbing and flowing; and shall the moone, from whom the sea
taketh this virtue, be accounted fickle for encreasing and
decreasing?" [336] Another writer of the sixteenth century says,
"The moone is founde, by plaine experience, to beare her greatest
stroke uppon the seas, likewise in all things that are moiste, and by
consequence in the braines of man." [337] Dennys tells us that "the
influence exerted by the moon on tides is recognised by the
Chinese." [338] What some record in prose, others repeat in rhyme.
The following is _one_ kind of poetry.

     "Moone changed, keepes closet, three daies as a Queene,
     Er she in hir prime, will of any be scene:
     If great she appereth, it showreth out,
     If small she appereth, it signifieth drout.
     At change or at full, come it late, or else soone,
     Maine sea is at highest, at midnight and noone,
     But yet in the creekes, it is later high flood:
     Through farnesse of running, by reason as good." [339]

Indirectly, through the influence upon the tides, the moon is
concerned in human mortality.

     "Tyde flowing is feared, for many a thing,
     Great danger to such as be sick it doth bring.
     Sea eb, by long ebbing, some respit doth give,
     And sendeth good comfort, to such as shal live." [340]

Henderson says, "It is a common belief along the east coast of
England, from Northumberland to Kent, that deaths mostly occur
during the falling of the tide." [341] Every reader of the inimitable
Dickens will be reminded here of the death of poor old Barkis.

"'He's a-going out with the tide,' said Mr. Peggotty to me, behind his

"My eyes were dim, and so were Mr. Peggotty's; but I repeated in a
whisper, 'With the tide?'

"'People can't die, along the coast,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'except when
the tide's pretty nigh out. They can't be born, unless it's pretty nigh
in-not properly born, till flood. He's a-going out with the tide. It's
ebb at half-arter three, slack water half an hour. If he lives till it
turns, he'll hold his own till past the flood, and go out with the next

"'He's coming to himself,' said Peggotty.

"Mr. Peggotty touched me, and whispered with much awe and
reverence, 'They are both a-going out fast.'

"He now opened his eyes.

"I was on the point of asking him if he knew me, when he tried to
stretch out his arm, and said to me distinctly, with a pleasant

"'Barkis is willin'.'

"And, it being low water, he went out with the tide." [342]

That the rise and fall of our tides twice a day, with spring and neap
tides twice in the lunar month, are the effect of the combined action
of the sun and moon, is never called in question. The water under
the moon is drawn up from the earth, and the earth is drawn from
the water on the opposite side, the consequence of which is two high
tides in the two hemispheres at the same hour. The rotation of the
earth bringing the same point of the ocean twice under the moon's
meridian, once under the upper meridian and once under the lower,
each hemisphere has two high tides in the course of the day. The
spring tide is caused by the attractive force of the sun and moon
acting in conjunction, or in a straight line; and the neap tide is
caused by the moon being in quadrature, or when the sun and moon
are at right angles to each other. They counteract each other's
influence, and our tides arc therefore low. So much is science; but
the connection of ebb and flow with life and death is superstition.

From a very remote antiquity, in the twilight of natural astrology, a
belief arose that changes in the weather were occasioned by the
moon. [343] That the notion lives on, and will not soon die, is clear
to any one who is conversant with current literature and common
folk-lore. Even intelligent, well-informed people lend it
countenance. Professor Newcomb, of Washington, rightly says:
"Thus far there is no evidence that the moon directly affects the
earth or its inhabitants in any other way than by her attraction,
which is so minute as to be entirely insensible except in the ways we
have described. A striking illustration of the fallibility of the human
judgment when not disciplined by scientific training is afforded by
the opinions which have at various times obtained currency
respecting a supposed influence of the moon on the weather. Neither
in the reason of the case nor in observations do we find any real
support for such a theory. It must, however, be admitted that
opinions of this character are not confined to the uneducated." [344]
Mr. Edward B. Tylor holds similar language: "The notion that the
weather changes with the moon's quarterings is still held with great
vigour in England. That educated people to whom exact weather
records are accessible should still find satisfaction in the fanciful
lunar rule, is an interesting case of intellectual survival." [345] No
marvel that the "heathen Chinee" considers lunar observations as
forecasting scarcity of provisions he is but of the same blood with
his British brother, who takes his tea and sends him opium. "The
Hakkas (and also many Puntis) believe that if in the night of the
fifteenth day of the eighth month (mid autumn) there are clouds
obscuring the moon before midnight, it is a sign that oil and salt will
become very dear. If, however, there are clouds obscuring the moon
after midnight, the price of rice will, it is supposed, undergo a
similar change." [346]

One of our provincial proverbs is: "So many days old the moon is
on Michaelmas Day, so many floods after." Sometimes a proverb is
a short saying spoken after long experience; at other times it is a
small crystal left after a lengthy evaporation. In certain instances our
rural apothegms are sacred relics of extinct but canonized fictions.
An equally wise prediction is that if Christmas comes during a
waxing moon we shall have a very good year; and the nearer to the
new moon, the better. But if during a waning moon, a hard year; and
the nearer the end of the moon, so much the worse. Another sage
belief is that the condition of the weather is dependent upon the day
of the week upon which the new moon chances to fall. We are told
that "Dr. Forster, of Bruges, well known as a meteorologist, declares
that by the _Journal_ kept by his grandfather, father, and self, ever
since 1767, to the present time, whenever the new moon has fallen
on a _Saturday_, the following _twenty days_ have been wet and
windy, in nineteen cases out of twenty." [347] In Italy it is said, "If
the moon change on a Sunday, there will be a flood before the
month is out." New moon on Monday, or moon-day, is, of course,
everywhere held a sign of good weather and luck.

That a misty moon is a misfortune to the atmosphere is widely
supposed. In Scotland it is an agricultural maxim among the canny
farmers that--

     "If the moon shows like a silver shield,
     You need not be afraid to reap your field
     But if she rises haloed round,
     Soon we'll tread on deluged ground." [348]

Others say that a mist is unfavourable only with the new moon, not
with the old.

     "An old moon in a mist
     Is worth gold in a kist (chest)
     But a new moon's mist
     Will never lack thirst," [349]

is a rugged rhyme found in several places. In Cornwall the idea is

     "A fog and a small moon
     Bring an easterly wind soon."

The east wind, as we know, is dry. Two of the Shepherd of
Banbury's rules are:

     "xii. If mists in the new moon, rain in the old.
     xiii. If mists in the old, rain in the new moon." [350]

One thing is a meteorological certainty: the full moon very
frequently clears the sky. But this may be partly accounted for by
the fact that a full moon shows the night to be clear, which in the
moon's absence might be called cloudy.

Another observation shows that in proportion to the clearness of the
night is its cold. The clouds covering the earth with no thick
blanket, it radiates its heat into space. This has given rise to the
notion that the moon itself reduces our temperature. It is _cold_ at
night without doubt. But the cold moon is so warm when the sun is
shining full on its disk that no creature on earth could endure a
moment's contact with its surface. The centre of the "pale-faced
moon" is hotter than boiling water. This thought may cheer us when
"the cold round moon shines deeply down." We may be pardoned if
we take with a tincture of scepticism the following statement
"Native Chinese records aver that on the 18th day of the 6th moon,
1590, snow fell one summer night from the midst of the moon. The
flakes were like fine willow flowers on shreds of silk." [351] Instead
of cold, it is more likely that the white moon gives us heat, for from
Melloni's letter to Arago it seems to be already an ascertained fact.
Having concentrated the lunar rays with a lens of over three feet
diameter upon his thermoscopic pile, Melloni found that the needle
had deviated from 0° 6' to 4° 8', according to the lunar phase. Other
thermoscopes may give even larger indications; but meanwhile the
Italian physicist has exploded an error with a spark of science.

"Another weather guide connected with the moon is, that to see 'the
old moon in the arms of the new one' is reckoned a sign of fine
weather; and so is the turning up of the horns of the new moon. In
this position it is supposed to retain the water, which is imagined to
be in it, and which would run out if the horns were turned down."
[352] On this novel idea of a lunar bason or saucer, Southey writes
from "Keswick, December 29th, 1828," as follows:--"Poor
Littledale has this day explained the cause of our late rains, which
have prevailed for the last six weeks, by a theory which will
probably be as new to you as it is to me. 'I have observed,' he says,
'that, when the moon is turned upward, we have fine weather after
it; but if it is turned down, then we have a wet season; and the
reason I think is, that when it is turned down, it holds no water, like
a bason, you know, and then down it all comes.' There, it will be a
long while before the march of intellect shall produce a theory as
original as this, which I find, upon inquiry, to be the popular opinion
here." [353] George Eliot has taken notice of this fancy in the burial
of "poor old Thias Bede." "They'll ha' putten Thias Bede i' the
ground afore ye get to the churchyard," said old Martin, as his son
came up. "It 'ud ha' been better luck if they'd ha' buried him i' the
forenoon when the rain was fallin'; there's no likelihoods of a drop
now, an' the moon lies like a boat there, dost see? That's a sure sign
o' fair weather; there's a many as is false, but that's sure." [354]

In Dekker's _Match Me in London_, Act i., the King says, "My
Lord, doe you see this change in the moone? Sharp hornes doe
threaten windy weather."

In the famous ballad of Sir Patrick Spens, concerning whose origin
there has been so much discussion, without eliciting any very
accurate information, we read:

     "O ever alack! my master dear,
          I fear a deadly storm.
     I saw the new moon late yestreen,
          Wi' the auld moon in her arm
          And if ye gang to sea, maister,
     I fear we'll suffer harm." [355]

Jamieson informs us that "prognostications concerning the weather,
during the course of the month, are generally formed by the country
people in Scotland from the appearance of the _new moon_. It is
considered as an almost infallible presage of bad weather, if she
_lies sair on her back_, or when her horns are pointed towards the
zenith. It is a similar prognostic, when the new moon appears _wi'
the auld moon in her arm_, or, in other words, when that part of the
moon which is covered with the shadow of the earth is seen through
it." [356] The last sentence is a _lapsus calami_. Dr. Jamieson
should have said, when that part of the moon which is turned from
the sun is dimly visible through the reflected light of the earth.

"At Whitby, when the moon is surrounded by a halo with watery
clouds, the seamen say that there will be a change of weather, for
the 'moon dogs' are about." [357] At Ulceby, in Lincolnshire, "there
is a very prevalent belief amongst sailors and seafaring men that
when a large star or planet is seen near the moon, or, as they express
it, 'a big star is dogging the moon,' that this is a certain
prognostication of wild weather. I have met old sailors having the
strongest faith in this prediction, and who have told me that they
have verified it by a long course of observation." [358]

"Some years ago," says a writer from Torquay, "an old fisherman of
this place told me, on the morning next after a violent gale, that he
had foreseen the storm for some time, as he had observed one star
ahead of the moon, towing her, and another astern, chasing her. 'I
know'd 'twas coming, safe enough.'" [359] The moon was simply in
apparent proximity to two stars; but the old Devonian descried

The following incident from Zulu life will be of interest. "1878. A
curious phenomenon occurred 7th January. A bright star appeared
near the moon at noonday, the sun shining brightly. _Omen_--The
natives from this foretold the coming war with the Amazulu. Intense
heat and drought prevailed at this time." [360]

Hitherto we have reviewed only the imaginary influences of the
moon over inanimate nature and what are called irrational beings.
We have seen that this potent orb is supposed to affect the lightning
and thunder of the air; the rocks and seas, the vegetables and
animals of the earth; and generally to govern terrestrial matters in a
manner altogether its own. Furthermore, we have found these
imaginations rooted in all lands, and among men whose culture
might have been expected to refuse such fruitless excrescences.
When classical authors counsel us to set eggs under the hen at new
moon, and to root up trees only when the moon is waning and after
mid-day; and when "the wisest, brightest," if not the "meanest of
mankind" seriously attributes to the moon the extraction of heat, the
furtherance of putrification, the increase of moisture, and the
excitement of animal spirits, with the increase of hedges and herbs
if cut or set during certain phases of that body, we can but repeat to
ourselves the saying, "The best of men are but men at the best." The
half, however, has not been told; and we must now pass on to speak
of lunar influences upon the birth, health, intellect, and fortune of
microcosmical man.

In the system of astrology, which professed to interpret the events of
human existence by the movements of the stars, the moon was one
of the primary planets. As man was looked upon in the light of a
microcosm, or world in miniature, so the several parts of his
constitution were viewed as but a reproduction in brief of the great
parts of the vast organism. Creation was a living, intelligent being,
whose two eyes were the sun and the moon, whose body was the
earth, whose intellect was the ether, whose wings were the heavens.
Man was an epitome of all this; and as the functions of the less were
held to correspond with the functions of the greater, the microcosm
with the macrocosm, man's movements could be inferred by first
ascertaining the motions of the universe. The moon, having
dominion in the twelve "houses" of heaven, through which she
passed in the course of the year, her _aspects_ to the other bodies
were considered as of prime significance, in indicating benignant or
malignant influences upon human life. This system, which was
based upon ignorance and superstition, and upheld by arbitrary rules
and unreasoning credulity, is so repugnant to all principles of
science and common sense, that it would be unworthy of notice, if
we did not know that to this day there are educated persons still to
be seen poring over old almanacs and peering into the darkness of
divination, to read their own fortune or that of their children by the
dim light of some lucky or unlucky configuration of the planets with
the moon. The wheel of fortune yet revolves, and the despotism of
astrology is not dead. The lunar influence is considered supreme in
the hour of birth. Nay, with some the moon is potential even before
birth. In Iceland it is said: "If a pregnant woman sit with her face
turned towards the moon, her child will be a lunatic." [361] And this
imagination obtains at home as well as abroad. We are told that
"astrologers ascribe the most powerful influence to the moon on
every person, both for success and health, according to her zodiacal
and mundane position at birth, and her aspects to other planets. The
sensual faculties depend almost entirely on the moon, and as she is
aspected so are the moral or immoral tendencies. She has great
influence always upon every person's constitution." [362] This is the
doctrine of a book published not thirty years ago. Another work,
issued also in London, says, "Cynthia, 'the queen of heaven,' as the
ancients termed her, or the MOON, the companion of the earth, and
chief source of our evening light, is a cold, moist, watery,
phlegmatic planet, variable to an extreme, in astrological science;
and partaking of good or evil, as she is aspected by good or evil
stars. When angular and unafflicted in a nativity, she is the
promissory pledge of great success in life and continual good
fortune. She produces a full stature, fair, pale complexion, round
face, gray eyes, short arms, thick hands and feet, smooth, corpulent,
and phlegmatic body. Blemishes in the eyes, or a peculiar weakness
in the sight, is the result of her being afflicted by the Sun. Her
conjunction, semi-sextile, sextile, or trine, to Jupiter, is exceeding
fortunate; and she is said by the old Astrologers to govern the
_brain_, _stomach_, _bowels_, _left eye_ of the male, and _right
eye_ of the female. Her usual diseases are rheumatism, consumption,
palsy, cholic, apoplexy, vertigo, lunacy, scrophula, smallpox,
dropsy, etc.; also most diseases peculiar to young children."
[363] Such teaching is not a whit in advance of Plutarch's odd
dictum that the moon has a "special hand in the birth of children."

If this belief have disciples in London, it is not by any means
confined to that city. In Sweden great influence is ascribed to the
moon, not only in regulating the weather, but as affecting all the
affairs of man's daily life. The lower orders, and many of the better
sort, will not fell a tree for agricultural purposes in the wane of that
orb, lest it should shrink and decay; nor will the housewife then
slaughter for her family, lest the meat should shrivel and melt away
in the pot. The moon is the domestic deity, whom the household
must fear: the Fortuna who presides over the daily doings of
sublunary mortals. In the matter of birth, we find Francis Bacon
affirming that "the calculation of nativities, fortunes, good or bad
hours of business, and the like fatalities, are mere levities that have
little in them of certainty and solidity, and may be plainly confuted
by physical reasons"; [364] and yet in his Natural History he writes:
"It may be that children and young cattle that are brought forth in
the full of the moon, are stronger and larger than those that are
brought forth in the wane." [365] There surely can be no
superstition in studying the moon's conjunctions and oppositions if
her influence in a nativity have the slightest weight. And this
influence is still widely maintained by philosophers who read
Bacon, as well as by the peasants who read nothing at all. "In
Cornwall, when a child is born in the interval between an old moon
and the first appearance of a new one, it is said that it will never live
to reach the age of puberty. Hence the saying, 'no moon, no man.' In
the same county, too, when a boy is born in the wane of the moon, it
is believed that the next birth will be a girl, and vice versa; and it is
also commonly said that when a birth takes place on the 'growing of
the moon' the next child will be of the same sex." [366]

As a natural proceeding, we find that the moon has influence when
the child is weaned. Caledonian mothers very carefully observe the
lunar phases on this account. Jamieson tells us that "this
superstition, with respect to the fatal influence of a waning moon,
seems to have been general in Scotland. In Angus, it is believed,
that, if a child be put from the breast during the waning of the moon,
it will decay all the time that the moon continues to wane." [367] So
in the heart of Europe, "the Lithuanian precept to wean boys at a
waxing, but girls on a waning moon, no doubt to make the boys
sturdy and the girls slim and delicate, is a fair match for the Orkney
Islanders' objection to marrying except with a growing moon, while
some even wish for a flowing tide." [368] As to marriage, the
ancient Greeks considered the day of the full moon the most
propitious period for that ceremony. In Euripides, Clytemnestra
having asked Agamemnon when he intended to give Iphigenia in
marriage to Achilles, he replies, "When the full moon comes forth
with good luck." In Pindar, too, this season is preferred. [369]

Lunar influences over physical health and disease must be a fearful
contemplation to those who are of a superstitious turn. There is no
malady within the whole realm of pathology which the moon's
destroying angel cannot inflict; and from the crown of the head to
the sole of the foot the entire man is at the mercy of her beams. We
have all seen those disgusting woodcuts to which the following just
condemnation refers: "The moon's influence on parts of the human
body, as given in some old-fashioned almanacs, is an entire
_fallacy_; it is most untrue and absurd, often indecent, and is a
discredit to the age we live in." [370] Most of these inartistic
productions are framed upon the assumption of the old alchymists
that the physiological functions were regulated by planetary
influence. The sun controlled the heart, the moon the brain, Jupiter
the lungs, Saturn the spleen, Mars the liver, Venus the kidneys, and
Mercury the reproductive powers. But even with this distribution
among the heavenly bodies the moon was allowed plenipotentiary
sway. As in mythology it is the god or goddess of water, so in
astrology it is the embodiment of moisture, and therefore rules the
humours which circulate throughout the human system. No wonder
that phlebotomy prevailed so long as the reign of the moon endured.
"This lunar planet," says La Martinière, "is damp of itself, but, by
the radiation of the sun, is of various temperaments, as follows: in
its first quadrant it is warm and damp, at which time it is good to let
the blood of sanguine persons; in its second it is warm and dry, at
which time it is good to bleed the choleric; in its third quadrant it is
cold and moist, and phlegmatic people may be bled; and in its fourth
it is cold and dry, at which time it is well to bleed the melancholic."
Whatever the moon's phase may be, let blood be shed! We are
reminded here of that sanguifluous theology, which even Christians
of a certain temperament seem to enjoy, while they sing of fountains
filled with blood: as though a God of love could take delight in the
effusion of precious life. La Martinière continues, and physicians
will make a note of his words: "It is a thing quite necessary to those
who meddle with medicine to understand the movement of this
planet, in order to discern the causes of sickness. And as the moon is
often in conjunction with Saturn, many attribute to it apoplexy,
paralysis, epilepsy, jaundice, hydropsy, lethargy, catapory,
catalepsy, colds, convulsions, trembling of the limbs, etc., etc. I
have noticed that this planet has such enormous power over living
creatures, that children born at the first quarter of the declining
moon are more subject to illness, so that children born when there is
no moon, if they live, are weak, delicate, and sickly, or are of little
mind or idiots. Those who are born under the house of the moon
which is Cancer, are of a phlegmatic disposition." [371]

That the ancient Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans believed in the
deleterious influence of the moon on the health of man, is very
evident. The Talmud refers the words, "Though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death" (Ps. xxiii. 4) "to him who sleeps in
the shadow of the moon." [372] Another Psalm (cxxi. 6) reads,
literally, "By day the sun shall not smite thee, and the moon in the
night." In the Greek Testament we find further proof of this belief.
Among those who thronged the Great Teacher (Matt. iv. 24) were
the seleniaxomenoi (_lunatici_, Beza; _i lunatici_, Diodati; _les
lunatiques_, French version; "those who were lunatick"). The
Revised Version of 1881 reads "epileptic," but that is a comment, not
a translation. So again (Matt. xvii. 15) we read of a boy who was
"lunatick"--seleniaxetai. On which Archbishop Trench remarks,
"Of course the word originally, like mania (from mene) and
lunaticus, arose from the widespread belief of the evil influence of
the moon on the human frame." [373] Jerome attributes all this
superstition to daemons, of which men were the dupes. "The
_lunatics_," he says, "were not really smitten by the moon, but were
believed to be so, through the subtlety of the daemons, who by
observing the seasons of the moon sought to bring an evil report
against the creature, that it might redound to the blasphemy of the
Creator." [374] Demons or no demons, faith in moonstroke is clear
enough. Pliny was of opinion that the moon induced drowsiness and
stupor in those who slept under her beams. Galen, in the second
century, taught that those who were born when the moon was
falciform, or sickle-shaped, were weak and short-lived, while those
born during the full moon were vigorous and of long life. He also
took notice of the lunar influence in epilepsy [375] of which fearful
malady a modern physician writes, "This disease has been known
from the earliest antiquity, and is remarkable as being that malady
which, even beyond insanity, was made the foundation of the
doctrine of possession by evil spirits, alike in the Jewish, Grecian,
and Roman philosophy." [376] The terrible disorder was a fact; and
evil spirits or the moon had to bear the blame.

In modern times the moon is no less the deity of insalutary disaster.
Of Mexico, Brinton says: "Very different is another aspect of the
moon-goddess, and well might the Mexicans paint her with two
colours. The beneficent dispenser of harvests and offspring, she
nevertheless has a portentous and terrific phase. She is also the
goddess of the night, the dampness, and the cold; she engenders the
miasmatic poisons that rack our bones; she conceals in her mantle
the foe who takes us unawares; she rules those vague shapes which
fright us in the dim light; the causeless sounds of night or its more
oppressive silence are familiar to her; she it is who sends dreams
wherein gods and devils have their sport with man, and slumber, the
twin brother of the grave." [377] So farther south, "the Brazilian
mother carefully shielded her infant from the lunar rays, believing
that they would produce sickness; the hunting tribes of our own
country will not sleep in its light, nor leave their game exposed to
its action. We ourselves have not outgrown such words as lunatic,
moon-struck, and the like. Where did we get these ideas? The
philosophical historian of medicine, Kurt Sprengel, traces them to
the primitive and popular medical theories of ancient Egypt, in
accordance with which all maladies were the effects of the anger of
the goddess Isis, the moisture, the moon." [378] Perhaps Dr.
Brinton's own Mexican myth is a better elucidation of this origin of
nocturnal evil than that which traces it to Egypt. According to an
ancient tradition in Mexico, "it is said that in the absence of the sun
all mankind lingered in darkness. Nothing but a human sacrifice
could hasten his arrival. Then Metzli, the moon, led forth one
Nanahuatl, the leprous, and building a pyre, the victim threw
himself in its midst. Straightway Metzli followed his example, and
as she disappeared in the bright flames, the sun rose over the
horizon. Is not this a reference to the kindling rays of the aurora, in
which the dark and baleful night is sacrificed, and in whose light the
moon presently fades away, and the sun comes forth?" [379] We
venture to think that it is, and that it is nearest to a natural
explanation of purely natural effects.

Coming next to Britain, we find that "no prejudice has been more
firmly rivetted than the influence of the moon over the human
frame, originating perhaps in some superstition more ancient than
recorded by the earliest history. The frequent intercourse of
Scotland with the north may have conspired to disseminate or renew
the veneration of a luminary so highly venerated there, in
counteracting the more southern ecclesiastical ordinances." [380]
Forbes Leslie surely goes too far, and mixes matters up too much,
when he writes: "An ancient belief, adhered to by the ignorant after
being denounced and apparently disproved by the learned, is now
admitted to be a fact; viz. the influence of the moon in certain
diseases. This, from various circumstances, is more apparent in
some of the Asiatic countries, and may have given rise to the
custom which extended into Britain, of exposing sick children on
the housetops." [381] We know that the _solar_ rays, from the time
of Hippocrates, the reputed "father of medicine," were believed by
the Greeks to prolong life; and that the Romans built terraces on the
tops of their houses called _solaria_, where they enjoyed their solar
baths. "Levato sole levatur morbus," was one of their medical
axioms. But who ever heard of the _lunar_ rays as beneficial? If
sick children were exposed on the housetops, it must have been in
the daytime; and, unless it were intended as an alterative, it is
difficult to see what connection this had with the belief that disease
was the product of the lunar beam. Besides, is the moon's influence
in disease an admitted fact? The "certain diseases" should be
specified, and their lunar origin sustained.

The following strange superstition is singularly like that interpolated
legend in the Gospel of John, about the angel troubling the pool of
Bethesda. In this case the medicinal virtue seems to come with the
change of the moon. But in both cases supernatural agency is
equally mythical. "A cave in the neighbourhood of Dunskey ought
also to be mentioned, on account of the great veneration in which it
is held by the people. At the change of the moon (which is still
considered with superstitious reverence), it is usual to bring, even
from a great distance, infirm persons, and particularly ricketty
children, whom they often suppose bewitched, to bathe in a stream
which pours from the hill, and then dry them in the cave." [382]

Those who are in danger of apoplexy, or other cerebral disease,
through indulgence too freely in various liquids, vinous and
spirituous, should cherish Bacon's sapient deliverance: "It is like
that the brain of man waxeth moister and fuller upon the full of the
moon; and therefore it were good for those that have moist brains,
and are great drinkers, to take sume of _lignum aloes_, rosemary,
frankincense, etc., about the full of the moon. It is like, also, that the
humours in men's bodies increase and decrease as the moon doth;
and therefore it were good to purge some day or two after the full;
for that then the humours will not replenish so soon again." [383]
All this sounds so unphilosophical that it is almost incredible that
the learned Bacon believed what he wrote. Darker superstitions,
however, still linger in our land. "In Staffordshire, it is commonly
said, if you want to cure chin-cough, take out the child and let it
look at the new moon; lift up its clothes and rub your right hand up
and down its stomach, and repeat the following lines (looking
steadfastly at the moon, and rubbing at the same time):--

     'What I see, may it increase;
     What I feel, may it decrease;

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.'" [384]
There is a little ambiguity here. What is felt is the child's stomach.
But the desire is not that that may decrease, but only the whooping
cough, which is _felt_, we take it, by proxy. A lady, writing of the
southern county of Sussex, says: "A superstition lingering amongst
us, worthy of the days of paganism, is that the new May moon,
aided by certain charms, has the power of curing scrofulous
complaints." [385]

As the cutting of hair, finger-nails, and corns has some relation to
health and comfort, we may here mention that in Devonshire it is
said that hair and nails should always be cut in the waning of the
moon, thereby beneficial consequences will result. If corns are cut
after the full moon, some say that they will gradually disappear. In
the _British Apollo_ we have the following request for advice:

     "Pray tell your querist if he may
     Rely on what the vulgar say,
     That when the moon's in her increase,
     If corns be cut they'll grow apace
     But if you always do take care
     After the full your corns to pare,
     They do insensibly decay
     And will in time wear quite away.
     If this be true, pray let me know,
     And give the reason why 'tis so." [386]

The following passage is worth quoting, without any abbreviation,
as an excellent summary of wisdom and sense regarding the moon's
influence on health: "There is much reason for regarding the moon
as a source of evil, yet not that she herself is so, but only the
circumstances which attend her. With us it happens that a bright
moonlight night is always a cold one. The absence of cloud allows
the earth to radiate its heat into space, and the air gradually cools,
until the moisture it contained is precipitated in the form of dew,
and lies like a thick blanket on the ground to prevent a further
cooling. When the quantity of moisture in the air is small, the
refrigerating process continues until frost is produced, and many a
moonlight night in spring destroys half or even the whole of the
fruit of a new season. Moonlight, therefore, frequently involves the
idea of frigidity. With us, whose climate is comparatively cold, the
change from the burning, blasting, or blighting heat of day, or
sun-up, to the cold of a clear night, or sun-down, is not very great, but
within the tropics the change is enormous. To such sudden
vicissitudes in temperature, an Indian doctor, in whom I have great
confidence, attributes fevers and agues. As it is clear that those
persons only, whose business or pleasure obliges them to be out on
cloudless nights, suffer from the severe cold produced by the rapid
radiation into space of the heat of their own bodies and that of the
earth, those who remain at home are not likely to suffer from the
effects of the sudden and continued chill. Still further, it is clear that
people in general will not care to go out during the darkness of a
moonless night, unless obliged to do so. Consequently few persons
have experience of the deleterious influence of starlight nights. But
when a bright moon and a hot, close house induce the people to turn
out and enjoy the coldness and clearness of night, it is very probable
that refrigeration may be followed by severe bodily disease.
Amongst such a people, the moon would rather be anathematised
than adored. One may enjoy half an hour, or perhaps an hour, of
moonlight, and yet be blighted or otherwise injured by a whole
night of it." [387] In Denmark a superstition is current concerning
the noxious influences of night. The Danes have a kind of elves
which they call the "Moon Folk." "The man is like an old man with
a low-crowned hat upon his head; the woman is very beautiful in
front, but behind she is hollow, like a dough-trough, and she has a
sort of harp on which she plays, and lures young men with it, and
then kills them. The man is also an evil being, for if any one comes
near him he opens his mouth and breathes upon them, and his breath
causes sickness. It is easy to see what this tradition means: it is the
damp marsh wind, laden with foul and dangerous odours; and the
woman's harp is the wind playing across the marsh rushes at
nightfall." [388] It is the Queen of the Fairies in the
_Midsummer-Night's Dream_ who says to the Fairy King,--

     These are the forgeries of jealousy
     And never, since the middle summer's spring,
     Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
     By pavèd fountain, or by rushy brook,
     Or in the beachèd margent of the sea,
     To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
     But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
     No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
     Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
     Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
     That rheumatic diseases do abound
     And this same progeny of evils comes
     From our debate, from our dissension
     We are their parents and original.

It will be thought rashly iconoclastic if we cast the least doubt upon
the idea that blindness is caused directly by the light of the moon.
So many cases have been adduced that it is considered a settled
point. We, however, dare to dispute some of the evidence. For
instance "A poor man born in the village _Rowdil_, commonly
called St. Clement's, blind, lost his sight at every change of the
moon, which obliged him to keep his bed for a day or two, and then
he recovered his sight." [389] If logic would enable us to prove a
negative to this statement, we would meet it with simple denial. But
we have no hesitation in saying that an investigation into this case
would have exonerated the moon of any share in the affliction, and
have revealed some other and likely cause. Our chief objection to
this story is its element of periodicity; and we would require
overwhelming testimony to establish even the probability of such a
miracle once a month. That permanent injury may accrue to those
whose sleeping eyes are exposed all night to the brightness of a full
moon is probable enough. But this would take place not because the
moon's beams were peculiarly baneful, but because any strong light
would have a hurtful effect upon the eyes when fixed for hours in
the condition of sleep.

We can quite believe that in a dry atmosphere like that of Egypt,
where ophthalmia is very prevalent on account of constant irritation
from the fine sand in the air, the eye, weary with the heat and aridity
of the day, would be impaired if uncovered in the air to the rays of
the moon. Carne's statements are consequently quite credible. He
tells us: "The effect of the moonlight on the eyes in this country is
singularly injurious; the natives tell you, as I found they also
afterwards did in Arabia, always to cover your eyes when you sleep
in the open air. The moon here really strikes and affects the sight,
when you sleep exposed to it, much more than the sun; indeed, the
sight of a person who should sleep with his face exposed at night,
would soon be utterly impaired or destroyed." [390] For the same
reason, that strong light oppresses the slumbering eye, "the seaman
in his hammock takes care not to face the full moon, lest he be
struck with blindness." [391] Nor can we regard the following as
"an _extraordinary_ effect of moonlight upon the human subject." In
1863, "a boy, thirteen years of age, residing near Peckham Rye, was
expelled his home by his mother for disobedience. He ran away to a
cornfield close by, and, on lying down in the open air, fell asleep.
He slept throughout the night, which was a moonlight one. Some
labourers on their way to work, next morning, seeing the boy
apparently asleep, aroused him; the lad opened his eyes, but
declared he could not see. He was conveyed home, and medical
advice was obtained; the surgeon affirmed that the total loss of sight
resulted from sleeping in the moonlight." [392] This was sad
enough; but it was antecedently probable. No doubt a boy of
thirteen who for disobedience was cast out of home in such a place
as London had a hard lot, and went supperless to his open bed. His
optic nerves were young and sensitive, and the protracted light so
paralysed them that the morning found them closed "in endless
night." This was a purely natural result: to admitting it, reason
opposes no demur. But we must object, for truth's sake, to the
tendency to account for natural consequences by assigning
supernatural causes. The moon is no divinity; moonlight is no
Divine emanation, with a vindictive animus; and those who
countenance such silly superstition as that moonstroke is a
mysterious, evil agency, are contributing to a polytheism which
leads to atheism: for many gods logically means no GOD at all.

Another branch of this umbrageous if not fructuous tree of lunar
superstition is the moon's influence on human fortune. Butler
satirizes the visionary who--

     "With the moon was more familiar
     Than e'er was almanac well-willer (compiler);
     Her secrets understood so clear
     That some believed he had been there;
     Knew when she was in fittest mood
     For cutting corns, or letting blood:
     Whether the wane be, or increase,
     Best to set garlick, or sow pease:
     Who first found out the man i' th' moon,
     That to the ancients was unknown."--_Hudibras_.

A Swiss theologian amusingly describes the superstitious person
who reads his fortune in the stars. He, it is said, "will be more afraid
of the constellation fires than the flames of his next neighbour's
house. He will not open a vein till he has asked leave of the planets.
He will not commit his seed to the earth when the soil, but when the
moon, requires it. He will have his hair cut when the moon is either
in _Leo_, that his locks may stare like the lion's shag, or in _Aries_,
that they may curl like a ram's horn. Whatever he would have to
grow, he sets about when she is in her increase; but for what he
would have made less, he chuses her wane. When the moon is in
_Taurus_, he never can be persuaded to take physic, lest that animal
which chews its cud should make him cast it up again. He will avoid
the sea whenever _Mars_ is in the midst of heaven, lest that warrior-god
should stir up pirates against him. In _Taurus_ he will plant his
trees, that this sign, which the astrologers are pleased to call
_fixed_, may fasten them deep in the earth. If at any time he has a
mind to be admitted into the presence of a prince, he will wait till
the moon is in conjunction with the sun; for 'tis then the society of
an inferior with a superior is salutary and successful." [393]

The _new moon_ is considered pre-eminently auspicious for
commencements,--for all kinds of building up, and beginning _de
novo_. Houses are to be erected and moved into; marriages are to be
concluded, money counted, hair and nails cut, healing herbs and
pure dew gathered, all at the new moon. Money counted at that
period will be increased. The _full moon_ is the time for pulling
down, and thinking of the end of all things. Cut your timber, mow
your grass, make your hay, not while the sun shines, but while the
moon wanes; also stuff your feather-bed then, and so kill the newly
plucked feathers completely, and bring them to rest. Wash your
linen, too, by the waning moon, that the dirt may disappear with the
dwindling light. [394] According to one old notion it was deemed
unlucky to assume a new dress when the moon was in her decline.
So says the Earl of Northampton: "They forbidde us when the
moone is in a fixed signe, to put on a newe garment. Why so?
Because it is lyke that it wyll be too longe in wearing, a small fault
about this towne, where garments seldome last till they be payd for.
But thyr meaning is, that the garment shall continue long, not in
respect of any strength or goodness in the stuffe, but by the durance
or disease of him that hath neyther leysure nor liberty to weare it."
[395] It is well known that the ancient Hebrews held the new moon
in religious reverence. The trumpets were blown, solemn sacrifices
were offered and festivals held; and the first clay of the lunar month
was always holy. In a Talmudic compilation, to which Dr. Farrar
has contributed a preface, we find an interesting account of the
_Blessing the new moon_. "It is a very pious act to bless the moon
at the close of the Sabbath, when one is dressed in his best attire and
perfumed. If the blessing is to be performed on the evening of an
ordinary week-day, the best dress is to be worn. According to the
Kabbalists the blessings upon the moon are not to be said till seven
full days after her birth, but, according to later authorities, this may
be done after three days. The reason for not performing this monthly
service under a roof, but in the open air, is because it is considered
as the reception of the presence of the Shekinah, and it would not be
respectful so to do anywhere but in the open air. It depends very
much upon circumstances when and where the new moon is to be
consecrated, and also upon one's own predisposition, for authorities
differ. We will close these remarks with the conclusion of the Kitzur
Sh'lu on the subject, which, at p. 72, col. 2, runs thus:

"When about to sanctify the new moon, one should straighten his
feet (as at the Shemonah-esreh) and give one glance at the moon
before he begins to repeat the ritual blessing, and having
commenced it he should not look at her at all. Thus should he begin
--'In the united name of the Holy and Blessed One' and His
Shekinah, through that Hidden and Consecrated One! and in the
name of all Israel!' Then he is to proceed with the 'Form of Prayer
for the New Moon,' word for word, with out haste, but with solemn
deliberation, and when he repeats--

     'Blessed is thy Former, Blessed is thy Maker,
     Blessed is thy Possessor, Blessed is thy Creator,'

he is to meditate on the initials of the four Divine epithets, which
form 'Jacob'; for the moon, which is called 'the lesser light,' is his
emblem or symbol, and he is also called 'little' (see Amos vii. 2).
This he is to repeat three times. He is to skip three times while
repeating thrice the following sentence, and after repeating three
times forwards and backwards: thus (_forwards_)--'Fear and dread
shall fall upon them by the greatness of thine arm; they shall be as
still as a stone'; thus (_backwards_)--'Still as a stone may they be;
by the greatness of thine arm may fear and dread fall on them'; he
then is to say to his neighbour three times, 'Peace be unto you,' and
the neighbour is to respond three times, 'Unto you be peace.' Then
he is to say three times (very loudly), 'David, the King of Israel,
liveth and existeth!' and finally, he is to say three times, 'May a
good omen and good luck be upon us and upon all Israel! Amen!'"

That the ancient Germans held the moon in similar regard we know
from Caesar, who, having inquired why Ariovistus did not come to
an engagement, discovered this to be the reason: "that among the
Germans it was the custom for their matrons to pronounce from lots
and divination, whether it were expedient that the battle should be
engaged in or not; that they had said, 'that it was not the will of
heaven that the Germans should conquer, if they engaged in battle
before the new moon.'" [396b]

Halliwell has reproduced an illustration of British superstition of the
same sort. "A very singular divination practised at the period of the
harvest moon is thus described in an old chap-book. When you go to
bed, place under your pillow a prayer-book open at the part of the
matrimonial service 'with this ring I thee wed'; place on it a key, a
ring, a flower, and a sprig of willow, a small heart-cake, a crust of
bread, and the following cards:--the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace
of spades, and the ace of diamonds. Wrap all these in a thin
handkerchief of gauze or muslin, and on getting into bed, cross your
hands, and say:--

     'Luna, every woman's friend,
     To me thy goodness condescend
     Let me this night in vision see
     Emblems of my destiny.'

If you dream of storms, trouble will betide you; if the storm ends in
a fine calm, so will your fate; if of a ring or the ace of diamonds,
marriage; bread, an industrious life; cake, a prosperous life; flowers,
joy; willow, treachery in love; spades, death; diamonds, money;
clubs, a foreign land; hearts, illegitimate children; keys, that you
will rise to great trust and power, and never know want; birds, that
you will have many children; and geese, that you will marry more
than once." [397] Such ridiculous absurdities would be rejected as
apocryphal if young ladies were not still in the habit of placing bits
of wedding cake under their pillows in the hope that their dreaming
eyes may be enchanted with blissful visions of their future lords.

Hone tells us that in Berkshire, "at the first appearance of a new
moon, maidens go into the fields, and, while they look at it, say:--

     'New moon, new moon, I hail thee!
     By all the virtue in thy body.
     Grant this night that I may see
     He who my true love is to be.'

Then they return home, firmly believing that before morning their
future husbands will appear to them in their dreams." [398]

In Devonshire also "it is customary for young people, as soon as
they see the first new moon after midsummer, to go to a stile, turn
their back to it, and say:--

     'All hail, new moon, all hail to thee!
     I prithe, good moon, reveal to me
     This night who shall my true love be
     Who is he, and what he wears,
     And what he does all months and years.'" [399]

Aubrey says the same of the Scotch of his day, and the custom is not
yet extinct. "In Scotland (especially among the Highlanders) the
women doe make a curtsey to the new moon; I have known one in
England doe it, and our English woemen in the country doe retain
(some of them) a touch of this gentilisme still, _e.g._:--

     'All haile to thee, moon, all haile to thee
     I prithe, good moon, declare to me,
     This night, who my husband must be.'

This they doe sitting astride on a gate or stile the first evening the
new moon appears. In Herefordshire, etc., the vulgar people at the
prime of the moon say, ''Tis a fine moon, God bless her.'" [400] "In
Ireland, at the new moon, it is not an uncommon practice for people
to point with a knife, and after invoking the Holy Trinity, to say:--

     'New moon, true morrow, be true now to me,
     That I ere the morrow my true love may see.'

The knife is then placed under the pillow, and silence strictly
observed, lest the charm should be broken." [401]

Dr. Charles Mackay quotes from Mother Bridget's _Dream and
Omen Book_ the following prescription for ascertaining the events
of futurity. "_First new moon of the year_. On the first new moon in
the year take a pint of clear spring water, and infuse into it the
_white_ of an egg laid by a _white_ hen, a glass of _white_ wine,
three almonds peeled _white_, and a tablespoonful of _white_
rose-water. Drink this on going to bed, not making more nor less than
three draughts of it; repeating the following verses three several
times in a clear distinct voice, but not so loud as to be overheard by

     'If I dream of water pure
     Before the coming morn,
     'Tis a sign I shall be poor,
     And unto wealth not born.
     If I dream of tasting beer,
     Middling, then, will be my cheer--
     Chequered with the good and bad,
     Sometimes joyful, sometimes sad;
     But should I dream of drinking wine,
     Wealth and pleasure will be mine.
     The stronger the drink, the better the cheer--
     Dreams of my destiny, appear, appear!'" [402]

The day of the week on which the moon is new or full, is a question
that awakens the most anxious concern. In the north of Italy
Wednesday is dreaded for a lunar change, and in the south of France
the inauspicious day is Friday. [403] In most of our own rural
districts Friday's new moon is much disliked

     "Friday's moon,
     Come when it wool,
     It comes too soon."

Saturday is unlucky for the _new_, and Sunday for the _full_ moon.
In Norfolk it is said:--

     "Saturday's new and Sunday's full,
     Never was good, and never wull."

An apparently older version of the same weather-saw runs:--

     "A Saturday's change, and a Sunday's prime,
     Was nivver a good mune in nea man's time."

In Worcestershire, a cottager near Berrow Hill told Mr. Edwin Lees,
F.L.S., that as the new moon had fallen on a Saturday, there would
follow twenty-one days of wind or rain; for

     "If the moon on a Saturday be new or full,
     There always _was_ rain, and there always _wüll_."

One rustic rhyme rehearsed in some places is:--

     "A Saturday moon,
     If it comes once in seven years,
          Comes once too soon."

Next to the day, the medium through which the new moon is first
beheld, is of vital moment. In Staffordshire it is unlucky to see this
sight through trees. A correspondent in _Notes and Queries_ (21st
January, 1882) once saw a person almost in tears because she
looked on the new moon through her veil, feeling convinced that
misfortune would follow. Henderson cites a canon to be observed
by those who would know what year they would wed. "Look at the
first new moon of the year through a silk handkerchief which has
never been washed. As many moons as you see through the
handkerchief (the threads multiplying the vision), so many years
will pass ere you are married." [404] Hunt tells us, what in fact is
widely believed, that "to see the new moon for the first time through
glass, is unlucky; you may be certain that you will break glass
before that moon is out. I have known persons whose attention has
been called to a clear new moon hesitate. 'Hev I seed her out o'
doors afore?' if not, they will go into the open air, and, if possible,
show the moon 'a piece of gold,' or, at all events, turn their money."
[405] Mrs. Latham says: "Many of our Sussex superstitions are
probably of Saxon origin; amongst which may be the custom of
bowing or curtseying to the new or Lady moon, as she is styled, to
deprecate bad luck. There is another kindred superstition, that the
Queen of night will dart malignant rays upon you, if on the first day
of her re-appearance you look up to her without money in your
pocket. But if you are not fortunate enough to have any there, in
order to avert her evil aspect, you must immediately turn head over
heels! It is considered unlucky to see the new moon through a
window-pane, and I have known a maidservant shut her eyes when
closing the shutters lest she should unexpectedly see it through the
glass. Do not kill your pig until full moon, or the pork will be
ruined." [406] In Suffolk, also, "it is considered unlucky to kill a pig
in the wane of the moon; if it is done, the pork will waste in boiling.
I have known the shrinking of bacon in the pot attributed to the fact
of the pig having been killed in the moon's decrease; and I have also
known the death of poor piggy delayed, or hastened, so as to happen
during its increase." [407]

The desirability of possessing _silver_ in the pocket, and of turning
it over, when the new moon is first seen, is a point of some interest.
Forbes Leslie says, "The ill-luck of having no _silver_ money
--coins of other metals being of no avail--when you first see or hail a
new moon, is still a common belief from Cornwall to Caithness, as
well as in Ireland." [408] And Jamieson writes: "Another
superstition, equally ridiculous and unaccountable, is still regarded
by some. They deem it very unlucky to see the new moon for the
first time without having _silver_ in one's pocket. Copper is of no
avail." [409] We venture to think that this is not altogether
unaccountable. The moon at night, in a clear sky, reflects a brilliant
whiteness. The two Hebrew words used of this luminary in the
Bible, mean "pale light" and "white." "Hindooism says that the
moon, Soma, was turned into a female called Chandra--'the White
or Silvery One.'" [410] The Santhals of India call the sun _Chando_,
which means bright, and is also a name for the moon. Now pure
silver is of a very white colour and of a strong metallic lustre. It was
one of the earliest known metals, and used as money from the
remotest times. Its whiteness led the ancient astrologers, as it
afterwards led the alchemists, to connect it with the moon, and to
call it Diana and Luna, names previously given to the satellite. For
Artemis, the Greek Diana, the Ephesian craftsmen made silver
shrines. The moon became the symbol of silver; and to this day
fused nitrate of silver is called _lunar_ caustic. It was natural and
easy for superstition to suppose that silver was the moon's own
metal; and to imagine that upon the reappearance of the lunar deity
or demon, its beams should be propitiated by some argentine
possession. We find that silver was exclusively used in the worship
of the moon in Peru.

In a book published in the earlier part of last century, and attributed
to Daniel Defoe, we read; "To see a new moon the first time after
her change, on the right hand, or directly before you, betokens the
utmost good fortune that month; as to have her on your left, or
behind you, so that in turning your head back you happen to see her,
foreshows the worst; as also, they say, to be without gold in your
pocket at that time is of very bad consequence." [411] The mistake
in substituting gold for silver here is easily explained. As among the
Romans _aes_ meant both copper and money; and among the
French _argent_ means both silver and money in general; so in
England gold is the common expression for coin of any substance.
Silver being _money_, the word gold was thus substituted; the
generic for the specific. Other superstitions besides those above
noticed are found in different parts of our enlightened land. Denham
says, "I once saw an aged matron turn her apron to the new moon to
insure good luck for the ensuing month." [412] And Halliwell
mentions a prayer customary among some persons:--

     "I see the moon, and the moon sees me.
     God bless the moon, and God bless me." [413]

In Devonshire it is lucky to see the new moon over the right, but
unlucky to see it over the left shoulder; and to see it straight before
is good fortune to the end of the month. "In Renfrewshire, if a man's
house be burnt during the wane of the moon, it is deemed unlucky.
If the same misfortune take place when the moon is waxing, it is
viewed as a presage of prosperity. In Orkney, also, it is reckoned
unlucky to flit, or to remove from one habitation to another, during
the waning of the moon." [414] A recent writer tells us that in
Orkney "there are superstitions likewise associated with the moon.
The increase, and full growth, and wane of that satellite are the
emblems of a rising, flourishing, and declining fortune. No business
of importance is begun during the moon's wane; if even an animal is
killed at that period, the flesh is supposed to be unwholesome. A
couple to think of marrying at that time would be regarded as
recklessly careless respecting their future happiness Old people in
some parts of Argyllshire were wont to invoke the Divine blessing
on the moon after the monthly change. The Gaelic word for fortune
is borrowed from that which denotes the full moon; and a marriage
or birth occurring at that period is believed to augur prosperity."

Kirkmichael, says another writer on the Highlands of Scotland, hath
"its due proportion of that superstition which generally prevails over
the Highlands. Unable to account for the cause, they consider the
effects of times and seasons as certain and infallible. The moon in
her increase, full growth, and in her wane, are with them the
emblems of a rising, flourishing, and declining fortune. At the last
period of her revolution they carefully avoid to engage in any
business of importance; but the first and the middle they seize with
avidity, presaging the most auspicious issue to their undertakings.
Poor Martinus Scriblerus never more anxiously watched the
blowing of the west wind to secure an heir to his genius, than the
love-sick swain and his nymph for the coming of the new moon to
be noosed together in matrimony. Should the planet happen to be at
the height of her splendour when the ceremony is performed, their
future life will be a scene of festivity, and all its paths strewed over
with rosebuds of delight. But when her tapering horns are turned
towards the north, passion becomes frost-bound, and seldom thaws
till the genial season again approaches. From the moon they not
only draw prognostications of the weather, but according to their
creed also discover future events. There they are clearly portrayed,
and ingenious illusion never fails in the explanation. The veneration
paid to this planet, and the opinion of its influences, are obvious
from the meaning still affixed to some words of the Gaelic
language. In Druidic mythology, when the circle of the moon was
complete, fortune then promised to be most propitious. Agreeably to
this idea, _rath_, which signifies in Gaelic a wheel or circle, is
transferred to signify fortune." [416]

Forbes Leslie writes: "The influence which the moon was supposed
to exercise on mankind, as well as on inanimate objects, may be
traced in the practice of the Druids. It is not yet extinct in Scotland;
and the moon, in the increase, at the full, and on the wane, are
emblems of prosperity, established success, or declining fortune, by
which many persons did, and some still do, regulate the period for
commencing their most important undertakings." [417] And yet
once more, to make the induction most conclusive; we are told that
"the canon law anxiously prohibited observance of the moon as
regulating the period of marriage; nor was any regard to be paid to
certain days of the year for ceremonies. If the Lucina of the ancients
be identified with Diana, it was not unreasonable to court the care of
the parturient, by selecting the time deemed most propitious. The
strength of the ecclesiastical interdiction does not seem to have
prevailed much in Scotland. Friday, which was consecrated to a
northern divinity, has been deemed more favourable for the union.
In the southern districts of Scotland, and in the Orkney Islands, the
inhabitants preferred the increase of the moon for it. Auspicious
circumstances were anticipated in other parts, from its celebration at
full moon. Good fortune depended so much on the increase of that
luminary, that nothing important was undertaken during its wane.
Benefit even accrued to the stores provided during its increase, and
its effect in preserving them is still credited." [418] To what, but to
this prevalent belief in lunar influence on fortune can Shakespeare
allude, when Romeo swears:

     "_Rom_. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
          That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--
     _Jul_. Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
          That monthly changes in her circled orb,
          Lest that thy love prove likewise variable." [419]

Upon the physiological influence of the lunar rays in the generation
or aggravation of disease, we have but little to add to what has been
already written. It is a topic for a special treatise, and properly
belongs to those medical experts whose research and practice in this
particular branch of physics qualify them to speak with plenary
authority. Besides, it has been so wisely handled by Dr. Forbes
Winslow, in his admirable monograph on _Light_, that inquirers
cannot follow a safer guide than his little book affords. Dr. Winslow
accounts for the theory of planetary influence partly by the action of
the moon in producing the tides. He says: "Astronomers having
admitted that the moon was capable of producing this physical
effect upon the waters of the ocean, it was not altogether unnatural
that the notion should become not only a generally received but a
popular one, that the ebb and flow of the tides had a material
influence over the bodily functions. The Spaniards imagine that all
who die of chronic diseases breathe their last during the ebb.
Southey says, that amongst the wonders of the isles and city of
Cadiz, which the historian of that city, Suares de Salazar,
enumerates, one is, according to p. Labat, that the sick never die
there while the tide is rising or at its height, but always during the
ebb. He restricts the notion to the isle of Leon, but implies that the
effect was there believed to take place in diseases of all kinds, acute
as well as chronic. 'Him fever,' says the negro in the West Indies,
'shall go when the water come low; him always come not when the
tide high.' The popular notion amongst the negroes appears to be
that the ebb and flow of the tides are caused by a '_fever of the
sea_,' which rages for six hours, and then intermits for as many
more." [420] Dr. Winslow then subjoins a long list of learned
authorities, several of whose writings he subjects to a brief analysis.
He disapproves of the presumption that the subject is altogether
visionary and utopian; and affirms that it has not always been
pursued by competent observers. Periodicity is noted as an
important symptom in disease; a feature in febrile disturbance which
the present writer himself had abundant opportunity of marking and
measuring during an epidemic of yellow fever in the city of
Savannah in the year 1876. This periodicity Dr. Winslow regards as
the foundation of the alleged lunar influence in morbid conditions.
Some remarkable cases are referred to, which, if the fact of the
moon's interference with human functions could be admitted, would
go a long way to corroborate and confirm it. The supposed influence
of the moon on plants is not passed over, nor the chemical
composition of lunar light as a possible evil agency. Still
considering the matter _sub judice_, Dr. Winslow then proceeds to
the alleged influence of the moon on the insane; a question with
which he was pre-eminently competent to cope. After alluding to
the support given to the popular belief by poets and philosophers of
ancient and modern times, the question of periodicity, or "lucid
intervals," is again discussed, this time in its mental aspect, and the
hygienic or sanatory influence of light is allowed its meed of
consideration. The final result of the investigation is that the matter
is held to be purely speculative, and it is esteemed wise to hold in
reserve any theory in relation to the subject that may have been
formed. With this conclusion we are greatly disappointed. Dr.
Winslow's aid in the inquiry is most valuable, and if he, after his
careful review of pathological literature on lunar influence, coupled
with his own extended experience, holds the question in abeyance,
who will venture upon a decision? We however believe, notwithstanding
every existing difficulty, that the subject will be brought
into clear light ere long, and all superstition end in accurate
science. Meanwhile, many, even of the enlightened, will cling to the
unforgotten fancy which gave rise to the word _lunatic_, and in
cases of mental derangement will moralize with young Banks in the
_Witch of Edmonton_ (1658), "When the moon's in the full, then
wit's in the wane."


Science having practically diminished the moon's distance, and
rendered distinct its elevations and depressions, it is natural for
"those obstinate questionings of sense and outward things" to urge
the inquiry, _Is the moon inhabited_? This question it is easier to
ask than to answer. It has been a mooted point for many years, and
our wise men of the west seem still disposed to give it up, or, at
least, to adjourn its decision for want of evidence. Of "guesses at
truth" there have been a great multitude, and of dogmatic assertions
not a few; but demonstrations are things which do not yet appear.
We now take leave to report progress, and give the subject a little
ventilation. We do not expect to furnish an Ariadne's thread, but we
may hope to find some indication of the right way out of this
labyrinth of uncertainty. _Veritas nihil veretur nisi abscondi_: or, as
the German proverb says, "Truth creeps not into corners"; its life is
the light.

But before we advance a single step, we desire to preclude all
misunderstanding on one point, by distinctly avowing our
conviction that the teachings of Christian theology are not at all
involved in the issue of this discussion, whatever it may prove.
Infinite harm has been done by confusing the religion of science
with the science of religion. Religion _is_ a science, and science is a
religion; but they are not identical. Philosophy ought to be pious,
and piety ought to be philosophical; but philosophy and piety are
two quantities and qualities that may dwell apart, though, happily,
they may also be found in one nature. Each has its own faculties and
functions; and in our present investigation, religion has nothing
more to do than to shed the influence of reverence, humility, and
teachableness over the scientific student as he ponders his problem
and works out the truth. In this, and in kindred studies, we may
yield without reluctance what a certain professor of religion
concedes, and grant without grudging what a certain professor of
science demands. Dr. James Martineau says, "In so far as Church
belief is still committed to a given kosmogony and natural history of
man, it lies open to scientific refutation"; and again, "The whole
history of the Genesis of things Religion must unconditionally
surrender to the Sciences." [421] In this we willingly concur, for
science ought to be, and will be, supreme in its own domain. Bishop
Temple does "not hesitate to ascribe to Science a clearer knowledge
of the true interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis, and to
scientific history a truer knowledge of the great historical prophets.
Science enters into Religion, and the believer is bound to recognise
its value and make use of its services." [422] Then, to quote the
professor of science, Dr. John Tyndall says. "The impregnable
position of science may be described in a few words. We claim, and
we shall wrest from Theology, the entire domain of cosmological
theory." [423] We wish the eloquent professor all success. It was not
the spirit of primitive Christianity, but the spirit of priestly
ignorance, intolerance, and despotism, which invaded the territory
of natural science; and if those who are its rightful lords can recover
the soil, we bid them heartily, God speed! We have been driven to
these remarks by a twofold impulse. First, we can never forget the
injury that has been inflicted on science by the oppositions of a
headless religion; any more than we can forget the injury which has
been inflicted on religion by the oppositions of a heartless science.
Secondly, we have seen this very question of the inhabitation of the
planets and satellites rendered a topic of ridicule for Thomas Paine,
and an inviting theme for raillery to others of sophistical spirit, by
the way in which it has been foolishly mixed up with sacred or
spiritual concerns. Surely, the object of God in the creation of our
terrestrial race, or the benefits of the death of Jesus Christ, can have
no more to do with the habitability of the moon, than the doctrine of
the Trinity has to do with the multiplication table and the rule of
three, or the hypostatical union with the chemical composition of
water and light. Having said thus much of compulsion, we return,
not as ministers in the temple of religion so much as students in the
school of science, to consider with docility the question in dispute,
_Is the moon inhabited_?

Three avenues, more or less umbrageous, are open to us; all of
which have been entered. They may be named _observation_,
_induction_, and _analogy_. The first, if we could pursue it, would
explicate the enigma at once. The second, if clear, would satisfy our
reason, which, in such a matter, might be equivalent to sight. And
the third might conduct us to a shadow which would "prove the
substance true." We begin by dealing briefly with the argument
from _observation_. Here our data are small and our difficulties
great. One considerable inconvenience in the inquiry is, of course,
the moon's distance. Though she is our next-door neighbour in the
many-mansioned universe, two hundred and thirty-seven thousand
miles are no mere step heavenward. Transit across the intervenient
space being at present impracticable, we have to derive our most
enlarged views of this "spotty globe" from the "optic glass." But this
admirable appliance, much as it has revealed, is thus far wholly
inadequate to the solution of our mystery. Robert Hooke, in the
seventeenth century, thought that he could construct a telescope
with which we might discern the inhabitants of the moon life-size
--seeing them as plainly as we see the inhabitants of the earth. But,
alas! the sanguine mathematician died in his sleep, and his dream
has not yet come true. Since Hooke's day gigantic instruments have
been fitted up, furnished with all the modern improvements which
could be supplied through the genius or generosity of such
astronomers as Joseph Fraunhofer and Sir William Herschel, the
third Earl of Rosse and the fourth Duke of Northumberland. But all
of these worthy men left something to be done by their successors.
Consequently, not long since, our scientists set to work to increase
their artificial eyesight. The Rev. Mr. Webb tells us that "the first
'Moon Committee' of the British Association recommended a power
of 1,000." But he discourages us if we anticipate large returns; for
he adds: "Few indeed are the instruments or the nights that will bear
it; but when employed, what will be the result? Since increase of
magnifying is equivalent to decrease of distance, we shall see the
moon as large (though not as distinct) as if it were 240 miles off,
and any one can judge what could be made of the grandest building
upon earth at that distance." [424] If therefore we are to see the
settlement of the matter in the speculum of a telescope, it may be
some time before we have done with what Guillemin calls "the
interesting, almost insoluble question, of the existence of living and
organized beings on the surface of the satellite of our little earth."
[425] Some cynic may interpose with the quotation,--

     "But optics sharp it needs, I ween,
     To see what is not to be seen." [426]

True, but it remains to be shown that there is nothing to be seen
beyond what _we_ see. We are not prepared to deny the existence of
everything which our mortal eyes may fail to trace. Four hundred
years ago all Europe believed that to sail in search of a western
continent was to wish "to see what is not to be seen"; but a certain
Christopher Columbus went out persuaded of things not seen as yet,
and having embarked in faith he landed in sight. The lesson must
not be lost upon us.

     "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
     Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Because we cannot now make out either habitations or habitants on
the moon, it does not necessarily follow that the night will never
come when, through some mightier medium than any ever yet
constructed or conceived, we shall descry, beside mountains and
valleys, also peopled plains and populous cities animating the fair
features of this beautiful orb. One valuable auxiliary of the
telescope, destined to play an important part in lunar discovery,
must not be overlooked. Mr. Norman Lockyer says, "With reference
to the moon, if we wish to map her correctly, it is now no longer
necessary to depend on ordinary eye observations alone; it is
perfectly clear that by means of an image of the moon, taken by
photography, we are able to fix many points on the lunar surface."
[427] With telescopic and photographic lenses in skilled hands, and
a wealth of inventive genius in fertile brains, we can afford to wait a
long while before we close the debate with a final negative.

In the meantime, eyes and glasses giving us no satisfaction, we turn
to scientific _induction_. Speculation is a kind of mental mirror, that
before now has anticipated or supplemented the visions of sense.
Not being practical astronomers ourselves, we have to follow the
counsel of that unknown authority who bids us believe the expert.
But expertness being the fruit of experience, we may be puzzled to
tell who have attained that rank. We will inquire, however, with due
docility, of the oracles of scientific research. It is agreed on all sides
that to render the moon habitable by beings at all akin with our own
kind, there must be within or upon that body an atmosphere, water,
changing seasons, and the alternations of day and night. We know
that changes occur in the moon, from cold to heat, and from
darkness to light. But the lunar day is as long as 291 of ours; so that
each portion of the surface is exposed to, or turned from, the sun for
nearly 14 days. This long exposure produces excessive heat, and the
long darkness excessive cold. Such extremities of temperature are
unfavourable to the existence of beings at all like those living upon
the earth, especially if the moon be without water and atmosphere.
As these two desiderata seem indispensable to lunar inhabitation,
we may chiefly consider the question, Do these conditions exist? If
so, inductive reasoning will lead us to the inference, which
subsequent experience will strengthen, that the moon is inhabited
like its superior planet. But if not, life on the satellite similar to life
on the earth, is altogether improbable, if not absolutely impossible.

The replies given to this query will be by no means unanimous. But,
for the full understanding of the state of the main question, and to
assist us in arriving at some sort of verdict, we will hear several
authorities on both sides of the case. The evidence being
cumulative, we pursue the chronological order, and begin with La
Place. He writes: "The lunar atmosphere, if any such exists, is of an
extreme rarity, greater even than that which can be produced on the
surface of the earth by the best constructed air-pumps. It may be
inferred from this that no terrestrial animal could live or respire at
the surface of the moon, and that if the moon be inhabited, it must
be by animals of another species." [428] This opinion, as Sir David
Brewster points out, is not that the moon has no atmosphere, but
that if it have any it is extremely attenuated. Mr. Russell Hind's
opinion is similar with respect to water. He says: "Earlier
selenographists considered the dull, grayish spots to be water, and
termed them the lunar seas, bays, and lakes. They arc so called to
the present day, though we have strong evidence to show that if
water exist at all on the moon, it must be in very small quantity."
[429] Mr. Grant tells us that "the question whether the moon
be surrounded by an atmosphere has been much discussed by
astronomers. Various phenomena are capable of indicating such an
atmosphere, but, generally speaking, they are found to be
unfavourable to its existence, or at all events they lead to the
conclusion that it must be very inconsiderable." [430] Humboldt
thinks that Schroeter's assumptions of a lunar atmosphere and lunar
twilight are refuted, and adds: "If, then, the moon is without any
gaseous envelope, the entire absence of any diffused light must
cause the heavenly bodies, as seen from thence, to appear projected
against a sky _almost black_ in the day-time. No undulation of air
can there convey sound, song, or speech. The moon, to our
imagination, which loves to soar into regions inaccessible to full
research, is a desert where silence reigns unbroken." [431] Dr.
Lardner considers it proven "that there does not exist upon the moon
an atmosphere capable of reflecting light in any sensible degree,"
and also believes that "the same physical tests which show the
non-existence of an atmosphere of air upon the moon are equally
conclusive against an atmosphere of vapour." [432] Mr. Breen is
more emphatic. He writes: "In the want of water and air, the
question as to whether this body is inhabited is no longer equivocal.
Its surface resolves itself into a sterile and inhospitable waste, where
the lichen which flourishes amidst the frosts and snows of Lapland
would quickly wither and die, and where no animal with a drop of
blood in its veins could exist." [433] The anonymous author of the
Essay on the _Plurality of Worlds_ announces that astronomers are
agreed to negative our question without dissent. We shall have to
manifest his mistake. His words are: "Now this minute examination
of the moon's surface being possible, and having been made by
many careful and skilful astronomers, what is the conviction which
has been conveyed to their minds with regard to the fact of her
being the seat of vegetable or animal life? Without exception, it
would seem, they have all been led to the belief that the moon is not
inhabited; that she is, so far as life and organization are concerned,
waste and barren, like the streams of lava or of volcanic ashes on the
earth, before any vestige of vegetation has been impressed upon
them; or like the sands of Africa, where no blade of grass finds
root." [434] Robert Chambers says: "It does not appear that our
satellite is provided with an atmosphere of the kind found upon
earth; neither is there any appearance of water upon the surface. . . .
These characteristics of the moon forbid the idea that it can be at
present a theatre of life like the earth, and almost seem to declare
that it never can become so." [435] Schoedler's opinion is
concurrent with what has preceded. He writes: "According to the
most exact observations it appears that the moon has no atmosphere
similar to ours, that on its surface there are no great bodies of water
like our seas and oceans, so that the existence of water is doubtful.
The whole physical condition of the lunar surface must, therefore,
be so different from that of our earth, that beings organized as we
are could not exist there." [436] Another German author says: "The
observations of Fraunhofer (1823), Brewster and Gladstone (1860),
Huggins and Miller, as well as Janssen, agree in establishing the
complete accordance of the lunar spectrum with that of the sun. In
all the various portions of the moon's disk brought under
observation, no difference could be perceived in the dark lines of the
spectrum, either in respect of their number or relative intensity.
From this entire absence of any special absorption lines, it must be
concluded that there is no atmosphere in the moon, a conclusion
previously arrived at from the circumstance that during an
occultation no refraction is perceived on the moon's limb when a
star disappears behind the disk." [437] Mr. Nasmyth follows in the
same strain. Holding that the moon lacks air, moisture, and
temperature, he says, "Taking all these adverse conditions into
consideration, we are in every respect justified in concluding that
there is no possibility of animal or vegetable life existing on the
moon, and that our satellite must therefore be regarded as a barren
world." [438] A French astronomer holds a like opinion, saying:
"There is nothing to show that the moon possesses an atmosphere;
and if there was one, it would be perceptible during the occultations
of the stars and the eclipses of the sun. It seems impossible that, in
the complete absence of air, the moon can be peopled by beings
organized like ourselves, nor is there any sign of vegetation or of
any alteration in the state of its surface which can be attributed to a
change of seasons." [439] On the same side Mr. Crampton writes
most decisively, "With what we _do_ know, however, of our
satellite, I think the idea of her being inhabited may be dismissed
_summarily_; _i.e._ her inhabitation by intelligent beings, or an
animal creation such as exist here." [440] And, finally, in one of
Maunder's excellent _Treasuries_, we read of the moon, "She has no
atmosphere, or at least none of sufficient density to refract the rays
of light as they pass through it, and hence there is no water on her
surface; consequently she can have no animals like those on our
planet, no vegetation, nor any change of seasons." [441] These
opinions, recorded by so many judges of approved ability and
learning, have great weight; and some may regard their premisses
and conclusions as irresistibly cogent and convincing. The case
against inhabitation is certainly strong. But justice is impartial.
_Audi alteram partem_.

Judges of equal erudition will now speak as respondents. We go
back to the seventeenth century, and begin with a work whose
reasoning is really remarkable, seeing that it is nearly two hundred
and fifty years since it was first published. We refer to the
_Discovery of a New World_ by John Wilkins, Bishop of Chester;
in which the reverend philosopher aims to prove the following
propositions:--"1. That the strangeness of this opinion (that the
moon may be a world) is no sufficient reason why it should be
rejected; because other certain truths have been formerly esteemed
as ridiculous, and great absurdities entertained by common consent.
2. That a plurality of worlds does not contradict any principle of
reason or faith. 3. That the heavens do not consist of any such pure
matter which can privilege them from the like change and
corruption, as these inferior bodies are liable unto. 4. That the moon
is a solid, compacted, opacous body. 5. That the moon hath not any
light of her own. 6. That there is a world in the moon, hath been the
direct opinion of many ancient, with some modern mathematicians;
and may probably be deduced from the tenets of others. 9. That
there are high mountains, deep valleys, and spacious plains in the
body of the moon. 10. That there is an atmosphoera, or an orb of
gross vaporous air, immediately encompassing the body of the
moon. 13. That 'tis probable there may be inhabitants in this other
world; but of what kind they are, is uncertain." [442] We go on to
1686, and listen to the French philosopher, Fontenelle, in his
Conversations with the Marchioness. "'Well, madam,' _said I_, 'you
will not be surprised when you hear that the moon is an earth too,
and that she is inhabited as ours is.' 'I confess,' _said she_, 'I have
often heard talk of the world in the moon, but I always looked upon
it as visionary and mere fancy.' 'And it may be so still,' _said I_. 'I
am in this case as people in a civil war, where the uncertainty of
what may happen makes them hold intelligence with the opposite
party; for though I verily believe the moon is inhabited, I live civilly
with those who do not believe it; and I am still ready to embrace the
prevailing opinion. But till the unbelievers have a more considerable
advantage, I am for the people in the moon.'" [443] Whatever may
be thought of his philosophy, no one could quarrel with the
Secretary of the Academy on the score of his politeness or his
prudence. A more recent and more reliable authority appears in Sir
David Brewster. He tells us that "MM. Mädler and Beer, who have
studied the moon's surface more diligently than any of their
predecessors or contemporaries, have arrived at the conclusion that
she has an atmosphere." Sir David himself maintains that "_every
planet and satellite in the solar system must have an atmosphere_."
[444] Bonnycastle, whilom professor of mathematics in the Royal
Military Academy, Woolwich, writes: "Astronomers were formerly
of opinion that the moon had no atmosphere, on account of her
never being obscured by clouds or vapours; and because the fixed
stars, at the time of an occultation, disappear behind her
instantaneously, without any gradual diminution of their light. But if
we consider the effects of her days and nights, which are near thirty
times as long as with us, it may be readily conceived that the
phenomena of vapours and meteors must be very different. And
besides, the vaporous or obscure part of our atmosphere is only
about the one thousand nine hundred and eightieth part of the earth's
diameter, as is evident from observing the clouds, which are seldom
above three or four miles high; and therefore, as the moon's
apparent diameter is only about thirty-one minutes and a half, or one
thousand eight hundred and ninety seconds, the obscure part of her
atmosphere, supposing it to resemble our own, when viewed from
the earth, must subtend an angle of less than one second; which is so
small a space, that observations must be extremely accurate to
determine whether the supposed obscuration takes place or not."
[445] Dr. Brinkley, at one time the Astronomer-Royal of Ireland,
writes: "Many astronomers formerly denied the existence of an
atmosphere at the moon; principally from observing no variation of
appearance on the surface, like what would take place, did clouds
exist as with us; and also, from observing no change in the light of
the fixed stars on the approach of the dark edge of the moon. The
circumstance of there being no clouds, proves either that there is no
atmosphere similar to that of our earth, or that there are no waters on
its surface to be converted into vapour; and that of the lustre of the
stars not being changed, proves that there can be no dense
atmosphere. But astronomers now seem agreed that an atmosphere
does surround the moon, although of small density when compared
with that of our earth. M. Schroeter has observed a small twilight in
the moon, such as would arise from an atmosphere capable of
reflecting the rays at the height of about one mile." [446] Dr.
Brinkley is inaccurate in saying that astronomers are agreed as to
the lunar atmosphere. Like students in every other department of
inquiry, spiritual as well as physical, they fail at present to see "eye
to eye"; which is not surprising, seeing that the eye is so restricted,
and the object so remote.

Dr. Dick, whose productions have done much to popularize the
study of the heavens, and to promote its reverent pursuit, says: "On
the whole it appears most probable that the moon is surrounded with
a fluid which serves the purpose of an atmosphere; although this
atmosphere, as to its nature, composition, and refractive power, may
be very different from the atmosphere which surrounds the earth. It
forms no proof that the moon, or any of the planets, is destitute of
an atmosphere, because its constitution, its density, and its power of
refracting the rays of light are different from ours. An atmosphere
may surround a planetary body, and yet its parts be so fine and
transparent that the rays of light, from a star or any other body, may
pass through it without being in the least obscured, or changing their
direction. In our reasonings on this subject, we too frequently
proceed on the false principle, that everything connected with other
worlds must bear a resemblance to those on the earth." [447] Mr.
Neison, who has written one of the latest contributions to the
science of selenography, says, "Of the present non-existence of
masses of water upon the surface of the moon, there remains no
doubt, though no evidence of its entire absence from the lunar crust
can be adduced; and similarly, many well-established facts in
reference to the moon afford ample proof of the non-existence of a
lunar atmosphere, having a density equal to, or even much less than,
that of the earth; but of the absence of an atmosphere, whose mass
should enable it to play an important part in the moulding of the
surface of the moon, and comparable almost to that of the terrestrial
atmosphere, in their respective ratios to the masses of their planets,
little, if any, trustworthy evidence exists." On another page of the
same work, the author affirms "that later inquiries have shown that
the moon may possess an atmosphere that must be regarded as fully
capable of sustaining various forms of vegetation of even an
advanced type; and, moreover, it does not appear how it can justly
be questioned that the lunar surface in favourable positions may yet
retain a sufficiency of moisture to support vegetation of many kinds;
whilst in a very considerable portion of the entire surface of the
moon, the temperature would not vary sufficiently to materially
affect the existence of vegetable life." [448] Some of these writers
may appear to be travelling rather too fast or too far, and their
assumptions may wear more of the aspect of plausibility than of
probability. But on their atmospheric and aqueous hypothesis,
vegetation in abundance is confessedly a legitimate consequence. If
a recent writer has liberty to condense into a sentence the conclusion
from the negative premiss in the argument by saying, "As there is
but a little appearance of water or air upon the moon, the conclusion
has been inferred that there exists no vegetable or animal life on that
globe," [449] other writers, holding opposite views of the moon's
physical condition, may be allowed to expatiate on the luxuriant
life which an atmosphere with water and temperature would
undoubtedly produce. Mr. Proctor's tone is temperate, and his
language that of one who is conscious with Hippocrates that "art is
long and life is short." He says, in one of his contributions to lunar
science, "It may safely be asserted that the opportunities presented
during the life of any single astronomer for a trustworthy
investigation of any portion of the moon's surface, under like
conditions, are few and far between, and the whole time so
employed must be brief, even though the astronomer devote many
more years than usual to observational research." [450] This
prepares us to find in another of the same author's works the
following suggestive sentence: "With regard to the present
habitability of the moon, it may be remarked that we are not
justified in asserting positively that no life exists upon her surface.
Life has been found under conditions so strange, we have been so
often mistaken in assuming that _here_ certainly, or _there_, no
living creatures can possibly exist, that it would be rash indeed to
dogmatise respecting the state of the moon in this respect." [451]
Narrien, one of the historians of the science, may be heard, though
his contribution might be cast into either scale. He writes: "The
absence of those variations of light and shade which would be
produced by clouds floating above her surface, and the irregularities
of the ground, visible at the bottom and on the sides of her cavities,
have given reason to believe that no atmosphere surrounds her, and
that she is destitute of rivers and seas. Such are the opinions
generally entertained concerning the moon; but M. Schroeter, a
German astronomer, ventures to assert that our satellite is the abode
of living and intellectual beings; he has perceived some indications
of an atmosphere which, however, he admits, cannot exceed two
miles in height, and certain elevations which appear to him to be
works of art rather than of nature. He considers that a uniformity of
temperature must be produced on her surface by her slow rotation
on her axis, by the insensible change from day to night, and the
attenuated state of her atmosphere, which is never disturbed by
storms; and that light vapours, rising from her valleys, fall in the
manner of a gentle and refreshing dew to fertilize her fields." [452]
Dr. H. W. M. Olbers is fully persuaded "that the moon is inhabited
by rational creatures, and that its surface is more or less covered
with a vegetation not very dissimilar to that of our own earth." Dr.
Gruithuisen, of Munich, maintains that he has descried through his
large achromatic telescope "great artificial works in the moon
erected by the lunarians," which he considers to be "a system of
fortifications thrown up by the selenitic engineers." We should have
scant hope of deciding the dispute by the dicta of the ancients, were
these far more copious than we find them to be. Yet reverence for
antiquity may justify our quoting one of the classic fathers. Plutarch
says, "The Pythagoreans affirme, that the moone appeereth
terrestriall, for that she is inhabited round about, like as the earth
wherein we are, and peopled as it were with the greatest living
creatures, and the fairest plants." Again, "And of all this that hath
been said (my friend _Theon_) there is nothing that doth proove and
show directly, this habitation of men in the moon to be impossible."
[453] Here we close the argument based on _induction_, and sum
up the evidence in our possession. On the one hand, several
scientific men, whose names we need not repeat, having surveyed
the moon, deny it an atmosphere, water, and other conditions of life.
Consequently, they disbelieve in its inhabitation, solely because
they consider the fact undemonstrable; none of them being so
unscientific as to believe it to be absolutely impossible. On the other
hand, we have the valuable views of Mädler and Beer, whose lunar
labours are unsurpassed, and whose map of the moon is a marvel
and model of advanced selenography. They do not suppose the
conditions on our satellite to be exactly what they are on this globe.
In their own words, the moon is "no copy of the earth, much less a
colony of the same." They merely believe her to be environed with
air, and thus habitable. And when we recall our own Sir David
Brewster, Professor Bonnycastle, Dr. Brinkley, Dr. Dick, Mr.
Neison, and Mr. Proctor; and reckon with them the continental
astronomers, Dr. Gruithuisen, Dr. Olbers, and Schroeter, all of
whom attempted to fix the idea of planetary inhabitation on the
popular mind, we must acknowledge that they, with their opponents,
have a strong claim on our attention. The only verdict we are able
just now to render, after hearing these conflicting testimonies, is the
Scotch one, _Not proven_. We but append the legal indorsement
_ignoramus_, we do not know. The subject must remain _sub
judice_; but what we know not now, we hope to know hereafter.

Having interrogated _sense_ and _science_, with the solution of our
enigma anything but complete, we resort last of all to the argument
from _analogy_. If this can illumine the obscurity, it will all be on
the positive side of the inquiry. At present the question resembles a
half-moon: analogy may show that the affirmative is waxing
towards a full-orbed conviction. We open with Huyghens, a Dutch
astronomer of note, who, while he thinks it certain "that the moon
has no air or atmosphere surrounding it as we have," and "cannot
imagine how any plants or animals whose whole nourishment
comes from fluid bodies, can thrive in a dry, waterless, parched
soil," yet asks, "What, then, shall this great ball be made for;
nothing but to give us a little weak light in the night time, or to raise
our tides in the sea? Shall not we plant some people there that may
have the pleasure of seeing our earth turn upon its axis, presenting
them sometimes with a prospect of Europe and Africa, and then of
Asia and America; sometimes half and sometimes full?" [454] Ray
was "persuaded that this luminary doth serve many ends and uses,
especially to maintain the creatures which in all likelihood breed
and inhabit there." [455] Swedenborg's _ipse dixit_ ought to
convince the most incredulous; for he speaks "from what has been
heard and seen." Thus he says: "That there are inhabitants in the
moon is well known to spirits and angels, and in like manner that
there are inhabitants in the moons or satellites which revolve about
Jupiter and Saturn. They who have not seen and discoursed with
spirits coming from those moons still entertain no doubt but there
are men inhabiting them, because they are earths alike with the
planets, and wherever an earth is, there are men inhabitants; for man
is the end for which every earth was created, and nothing was made
by the great Creator without an end." [456] If any are still sceptical,
Sir William Herschel, an intellectual light of no mean magnitude,
may reach them. He writes: "While man walks upon the ground, the
birds fly in the air, and fishes swim in water, we can certainly not
object to the conveniences afforded by the moon, if those that are to
inhabit its regions are fitted to their conditions as well as we on this
globe arc to ours. An absolute or total sameness seems rather to
denote imperfections, such as nature never exposes to our view;
and, on this account, I believe the analogies that have been
mentioned fully sufficient to establish the high probability of the
moon's being inhabited like the earth." [457] The voice of Dr.
Dwight, the American theologian, will not be out of harmony here.
In discoursing of the starry heavens, he says of the planets: "Of
these inferior worlds, the moon is one; and to us, far the most
interesting. How many important purposes which are known does
this beautiful attendant of our earth continually accomplish! How
many more, in all probability, which are hitherto unknown, and
which hereafter may be extensively disclosed to more enlightened,
virtuous, and happy generations of men! At the same time, it is most
rationally concluded that intelligent beings in great multitudes
inhabit her lucid regions, being far better and happier than
ourselves." [458] Whewell's _Bridgewater Treatise_ will furnish us
a fitting quotation. "The earth, the globular body thus covered with
life, is not the only globe in the universe. There are, circling about
our own sun, six others, so far as we can judge, perfectly analogous
in their nature: besides our moon and other bodies analogous to it.
No one can resist the temptation to conjecture, that these globes,
some of them much larger than our own, are not dead and barren:
--that they are, like ours, occupied with organization, life,
intelligence." [459] In a most eloquent passage, Dr. Chalmers, who
will always be heard with admiration, exclaims: "Who shall assign a
limit to the discoveries of future ages? Who shall prescribe to
science her boundaries, or restrain the active and insatiable curiosity
of man within the circle of his present acquirements? We may guess
with plausibility what we cannot anticipate with confidence. The
day may yet be coming when our instruments of observation shall
be inconceivably more powerful. They may ascertain still more
decisive points of resemblance. They may resolve the same question
by the evidence of sense which is now so abundantly convincing
by the evidence of analogy. They may lay open to us the
unquestionable vestiges of art, and industry, and intelligence. We
may see summer throwing its green mantle over those mighty tracts,
and we may see them left naked and colourless after the flush of
vegetation has disappeared. In the progress of years or of centuries,
we may trace the hand of cultivation spreading a new aspect over
some portion of a planetary surface. Perhaps some large city, the
metropolis of a mighty empire, may expand into a visible spot by
the powers of some future telescope. Perhaps the glass of some
observer, in a distant age, may enable him to construct the map of
another world, and to lay down the surface of it in all its minute and
topical varieties. But there is no end of conjecture; and to the men of
other times we leave the full assurance of what we can assert with
the highest probability, that yon planetary orbs are so many worlds,
that they teem with life, and that the mighty Being who presides in
high authority over this scene of grandeur and astonishment has
there planted the worshippers of His glory." [460]

How fine is this outburst of the great Scotch orator! He spoke as one
inspired with prophetic foreknowledge; for in less than twenty years
after this utterance, Beer and Mädler published their splendid
_Mappe Selenographica_, or map of the moon; and photography
offered its aid to the fuller delineation of our silvery satellite. Who
can tell what the last fifteen years of this eventful century may
develop in the same direction? Verily these intuitions of reason
seem often favoured with an apocalypse of coming disclosures; and,
if we may venture to adopt with slight alteration a sentence of
Shelley, we will say: "It is impossible to read the compositions of
the most celebrated writers of the present day without being startled
with the electric life which burns within their words. They measure
the circumference and sound the depths of nature with a
comprehensive and all-penetrating spirit, and they are themselves
perhaps the most sincerely astonished at its manifestations; for it is
less their spirit than the spirit of the age." The poets of science, in
their analogies, are "the hierophants of an unapprehended
inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts
upon the present." [461] Equally noble with the language of
Chalmers is a paragraph which we have extracted from a work by
that scholarly writer, Isaac Taylor. He says: "There are two facts,
each of which is significant in relation to our present subject, and of
which the first has long been understood, while the latter (only of
late ascertained) is every day receiving new illustrations; namely,
that our planet is, in no sense, of primary importance in the general
system, or entitled, by its magnitude, or its position, or its
constitution, to be considered as exerting any peculiar influence
over others, or as the object of more regard than any others. This
knowledge of our real place and value in the universe is a very
important consequence of our modern astronomy, and should not be
lost sight of in any of our speculations. But then it is also now
ascertained that the great laws of our own planet, and of the solar
system to which it belongs, prevail in all other and the most remote
systems, so as to make the visible universe, in the strictest sense,
ONE SYSTEM--indicating one origin and showing the presence of
one Controlling Power. Thus the law of gravitation, with all the
conditions it implies, and the laws of light, are demonstrated to be in
operation in regions incalculably remote; and just so far as the
physical constitution of the other planets of our system can be either
traced, or reasonably conjectured, it appears that, amid great
diversities of constitution, the same great principles prevail in all;
and therefore our further conjecture concerning the existence of
sentient and rational life in other worlds is borne out by every sort
of analogy, abstract and physical; and this same rule of analogy
impels us to suppose that rational and moral agents, in whatever
world found, and whatever diversity of form may distinguish them,
would be such that we should soon feel at home in their society, and
able to confer with them, to communicate knowledge to them, and
to receive knowledge from them. Neither truth nor virtue is local;
nor can there be wisdom and goodness in one planet, which is not
wisdom and goodness in every other." [462] The writer of the
_Plurality of Worlds_, a little work distinct from the essay already
quoted, vigorously vindicates "the deeply cherished belief of some
philosophers, and of many Christians, that our world, in its present
state, contains the mere embryo of intelligent, moral, and religious
happiness; that the progress of man in his present state is but the
initiation of an interminable career of glory; and that his most
widely extended associations are a preparation for as interminably
an intercourse with the whole family of an intelligent universe."
[463] Dr. Arnott may add a final word, a last link in this evidential
chain of analogy. He writes: "To think, as our remote forefathers
did, that the wondrous array of the many planets visible from this
earth serve no purpose but to adorn its nocturnal sky, would now
appear absurd indeed; but whether they are inhabited by beings at
all resembling the men of this earth, we have not the means of
knowing. All the analogies favour the opinion that they are the
abodes of life and its satisfactions. On this earth there is no place so
hot or so cold, so illumined or so dark, so dry or so wet, but that it
has creatures constituted to enjoy life there." [464]

Here our long list of learned authorities shall terminate. We have
strung together a large number of citations, and have ourselves
furnished only the string. Indeed, what more have amateurs that
they can do? For, as Pope puts it,--

     "Who shall decide, when doctors disagree,
     And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?"

Besides, astronomy is no child's play, nor are its abstruse problems
to be mastered by superficial meddlers. "Its intricacy," as Narrien
reminds us, "in the higher departments, is such as to render the
processes unintelligible to all but the few distinguished persons
who, by nature and profound application to the subject, are qualified
for such researches." [465] But if professionals must be summoned
as witnesses, ordinary men may sit as jurors. This function we have
wished to fufil; and we avow ourselves considerably perplexed,
though not in despair. We hoped that after a somewhat exhaustive
examination, we might be able to state the result with an emphasis
of conviction. This we find impossible; but we can affirm on which
side the evidence appears to preponderate, and whither, we rest
assured, further light will lead our willing feet. The conclusion,
therefore, of the whole matter is: we cannot see any living creatures
on the moon, however long we strain our eyes. No instrument has
yet been constructed that will reveal the slightest vestige of
inhabitation. Consequently, the actual evidence of sense is all
against us, and we resign it without demur. This point, being settled,
is dismissed.

Next, we reconsider the results of scientific study, and are strongly
inclined to think the weight of testimony favours the existence of a
thin atmosphere, at least some water, and a measure of light and
shade in succession. These conditions must enable vegetables and
animals to exist upon its surface, though their constitution is in all
probability not analogous with that of those which are found upon
our earth. But to deny the being of inhabitants of some kind,
even in the absence of these conditions, we submit would be
unphilosophical, seeing that the Power which adapted terrestrial life
to terrestrial environments could also adapt lunar life to the
environments in the moon. We are seeking no shelter in the
miraculous, nor do we run from a dilemma to the refuges of
religion. Apart from our theological belief in the potency of the
Creator and Controller of all worlds, we simply regard it as illogical
and inconclusive to argue that because organization, life, and
intelligence obtain within one sphere under one order of
circumstances, _therefore_ the same order obtains in every other
sphere throughout the system to which that one belongs. The unity
of nature is as clear to us as the unity of God; but unity is not
uniformity. We view the whole creation as we view this world; the
entire empire as we view this single province,

     "Where order in variety we see,
     And where, though all things differ, all agree."

And, finally, as analogy is unreservedly on the side of the
occupation of every domain in creation, by some creatures who
have the dominion, we cannot admit the probability that the earth is
the only tenement with tenants: we must be confirmed in our
judgment that the sun and the planets, with their moons, ours of
course included, are neither blank nor barren, but abodes of
variously organized beings, fitted to fulfil the chief end of all noble
existence: the enjoyment of life, the effluence of love, the good of
all around and the glory of God above.

This article, that the moon is inhabited, may therefore form a clause
of our scientific creed; not to be held at any hazard, as a matter of
life or death, or a test of communion, but to be maintained subject to
corrections such as future elucidation may require. We believe that
we are justified by science, reason, and analogy; and confidently
look to be further justified by verification. We accept many things
as matters of faith, which we have not fully ascertained to be
matters of fact; but "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the
proving of things not seen." By double entry the books of science
are kept, by reasoning and demonstration: when future auditors shall
examine the accounts of the moon's inhabitation, we are persuaded
that the result of our reckoning will be found to be correct.

If any would charge us with a wish to be wise above what is written,
we merely reply: There are unwritten revelations which are
nevertheless true. Besides, we are not sure that at least an intimation
of other races than those of the earth is not already on record. Not to
prove any position, but to check obstructive criticism, we refer to
the divine who is said to have witnessed in magnificent apocalypse
some closing scenes of the human drama. If he also heard in
sublime oratorio a prelude of this widely extended glory, our vision
may not be a "baseless fabric." After the quartettes of earth, and the
interludes of angels, came the grand finale, when every creature
which is in heaven, as well as on the earth, was heard ascribing
"Blessing and honour and glory and power to Him who sitteth upon
the throne." Assuredly, our conception of a choir worthy to render
that chorus is not of an elect handful of "saints," or contracted souls,
embraced within any Calvinistic covenant, but of an innumerable
multitude of ennobled, purified, and expanded beings, convoked
from every satellite and planet, every sun and star, and overflowing
with gratitude and love to that universal Father of lights, with whom
is no parallax, nor descension, and who kindled every spark of life
and beauty that in their individual and combined lustre He might
reflect and repeat His own ineffable blessedness.


_Literature of the Lunar Man_.

_Vide_ p. 8.

1. _The Man in the Moone_. Telling Strange Fortunes. London,

2. "_The Man in the Moone_, discovering a world of Knavery under
the Sunne; both in the _Parliament_, the _Councel_ of _State_, the
_Army_, the _City_, and the _Country_." Dated, "Die Lunae,
From Nov. 14 to Wednesday Novemb. 21 1649." _Periodical
Publications, London_. British Museum. Another Edition, "Printed
for Charles Tyns, at the Three Cups on London Bridge, 1657."

3. "SELENARCHIA, _or the Government of the World in the
Moon_." A comical history written by Cyrano Bergerac, and done
into English by Tho. St. Serf. London 1659."

The same, Englished by A. Lovell, A.M., London, 1687.

4. "_The Man in the Moon, or Travels into the Lunar Regions_," by
W. Thomson, London, 1783.

In this lucubration the Man in the Moon shows the Man of the
People (Charles Fox), many eminent contemporaries, by means of a
magical glass.

5. "_The Man in the Moon_, consisting of Essays and Critiques."
London, 1804. Of no value. After shining feebly like a rushlight for
about two months, it went out in smoke.

6. _The Man in the Moon_. London, 1820. A Political Squib.

7. _The Loyal Man in the Moon_, 1820, is a Political Satire, with
thirteen cuts.

8. _The Man in the Moon_, London, 1827(?). A Poem. _N.B._ The
word _poem_ has many meanings.

9. _The Man in the Moon_. Edinburgh, 1832. A small sheet, sold
for political purposes, at the high price of a penny. The Lunar Man
pledges himself to "do as I like, and not to care one straw for the
opinion of any person on earth."

10. _The Man in the Moon_. London, 1847. This is a comical serial,
edited by Albert Smith and Angus B. Reach; and is rich, racy, and
now rare.

11. _The Moon's Histories_. By a Lady. London, 1848.

_The Mirror of Pythagoras_

_Vide_ p. 147.

     "In laying thus the blame upon the moone,
     Thou imitat'st subtill _Pythagoras_,
     Who, what he would the people should beleeve,
     The same be wrote with blood upon a glasse,
     And turn'd it opposite 'gainst the new moone
     Whose beames reflecting on it with full force,
     Shew'd all those lynes, to them that stood behinde,
     Most playnly writ in circle of the moone;
     And then he said, Not I, but the new moone
     Fair _Cynthia_, perswades you this and that."

_Summer to Sol_, in _A Pleasant Comedie, called Summer's Last
Will and Testament_. Written by Thomas Nash. London, 1600.

_The East Coast of Greenland_.

_Vide_ p. 171.

"When an eclipse of the moon takes place, they attribute it to the
moon's going into their houses, and peeping into every nook and
corner, in search of skins and eatables, and on such occasions
accordingly, they conceal all they can, and make as much noise as
possible, in order to frighten away their unbidden guest."
--_Narrative of an Expedition to the East Coast of Greenland_: Capt.
W. A. Graah, of the Danish Roy. Navy. London, 1837, p. 124.

_Lord Iddesleigh on the Moon_.

_Vide_ p. 189.

Speaking at a political meeting in Aberdeen, on the 22nd of
September, 1885, the Earl of Iddesleigh approved the superannuated
notion of lunar influence, and likened the leading opponents of his
party to the old and new moon. "What signs of bad weather are
there which sometimes you notice when storms are coming on? It
always seems to me that the worst sign of bad weather is when you
see what is called the new moon with the old moon in its arms. I
have no doubt that many of you Aberdeen men have read the fine
old ballad of Sir Patrick Spens, who was drowned some twenty or
thirty miles off the coast of Aberdeen. In that ballad he was
cautioned not to go to sea, because his faithful and weatherwise
attendant had noticed the new moon with the old moon in its lap. I
think myself that that is a very dangerous sign, and when I see Mr.
Chamberlain, the new moon, with Mr. Gladstone, the old one, in his
arms, I think it is time to look out for squally weather."--_The
Standard_, London, Sept. 23rd, 1885.

The Scottish ballad of Sir Patrick Spens, which is given in the
collections of Thomas Percy, Sir Walter Scott, William Motherwell,
and others, is supposed by Scott to refer to a voyage that may really
have taken place for the purpose of bringing back the Maid of
Norway, Margaret, daughter of Alexander III., to her own kingdom
of Scotland. Finlay regards it as of more modern date. Chambers
suspects Lady Wardlaw of the authorship. While William Allingham
counsels his readers to cease troubling themselves with the
historical connection of this and all other ballads, and to enjoy
rather than investigate. Coleridge calls Sir Patrick Spens a "grand
old ballad."

_Greeting the New Moon in Fiji_.

_Vide_ p. 212.

"There is, I find, in Colo ('the devil's country' as it is called), in the
mountainous interior of Viti Levu, the largest island of Fiji, a very
curious method of greeting the new moon, that may not, as few
Europeans have visited this wild part, have been noticed. The
native, on seeing the thin crescent rise above the hills, salutes it with
a prolonged 'Ah!' at the same time quickly tapping his open mouth
with his hand, thus producing a rapid vibratory sound. I inquired of
a chief in the town the meaning and origin of this custom, and my
interpreter told me that he said, 'We always look and hunt for the
moon in the sky, and when it comes we do so to show our pleasure
at finding it again. I don't know the meaning of it; our fathers
always did so.'"--Alfred St. Johnston, in _Notes and Queries_ for
July 23rd, 1881, p. 67. See also Mr. St. Johnston's _Camping
Among Cannibals_, London, 1883, p. 283.

_Lunar Influence on Dreams_.

_Vide_ p. 214.

Arnason says that in Iceland "there are great differences between a
dream dreamt in a crescent moon, and one dreamt when the moon is
waning. Dreams that are dreamt before full moon are but a short
while in coming true; those dreamt later take a longer time for their
fulfilment."--_Icelandic Legends_, Introductory Essay, p. lxxxvii.


1  _The Martyrs of Science_, by Sir David Brewster, K.H., D.C.L.
London, 1867, p. 21.

2  _The Marvels of the Heavens_, by Camile Flammarion. London,
1870, p. 238.

3  _The Jest Book_. Arranged by Mark Lemon. London, 1864, p.

4  _Timon_, a Play. Edited by the Rev. A. Dyce. London
(Shakespeare Society), 1842, Act iv. Scene iii.

5  _The Man in the Moon drinks Claret_, as it was lately sung at the
Court in Holy-well. _Bagford Ballads_, Folio Collection in the
British Museum, vol. ii. No. 119.

6  _Conceits, Clinches, Flashes, and Whimzies_. Edited by J. O.
Halliwell, F.R.S. London, 1860, p. 41.

7  _The Man in the Moon_, by C. Sloman. London, 1848, Music by
E. J. Loder.

8  _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, by Joseph Ritson. London, 1877,
p. 58.

9  _On the Religions of India_. Hibbert Lectures for 1878. London,
p. 132.

10  _An Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language_, by
John Jamieson, D.D. Paisley, 1880, iii. 299.

11  _Sir Thomas Browne's Works_. Edited by Simon Wilkin,
F.L.S., London, 1835, iii. 157.

12  _Popular Antiquities of Great Britain_. Hazlitt's Edition.
London, 1870, ii. 275.

13  _Asgard and the Gods_. Adapted from the work of Dr. Wägner,
by M.W. Macdowall; and edited by W. S. Anson. London, 1884, p.

14  _An Introduction to the Science of Comparative Mythology and
Folk Lore_, by the Rev. Sir George W. Cox, Bart., M.A. London,
1881, p. 12.

15  _Plutarch's Morals_. Translated by p. Holland. London, 1603, p.

16  _Myths and Marvels of Astronomy_, by R. A. Proctor. London,
1878, p. 245. See also, _As Pretty as Seven and other German
Tales_, by Ludwig Bechstein. London, p. 111.

17  _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_, by S. Baring-Gould, M.A.
London, 1877, p. 193.

18  _Northern Mythology_, by Benjamin Thorpe. London, 1851, iii.

19  _Notes and Queries_. First Series, 1852, vol. vi. p. 232. The
entire text of this poem is given in Bunsen's _God in History_.
London, 1868, ii. 495.

20   Thorpe's _Mythology_, i. 6.

21  _Ibid.,_ 143.

22  _Curious Myths_, pp. 201-203.

23  _Teutonic Mythology_, by Jacob Grimm. Translated by J. S.
Stallybrass. London, 1883, ii. 717.

24  _De Natura Rerum_. MS. Harl. No. 3737.

25   MS. Harl. No. 2253, 81.

26  _The Archaeological Journal_ for March, 1848, pp. 66, 67.

27   See Tyrwhitt's _Chaucer_. London, 1843, p. 448.

28   Dekker's _Dramatic Works_. Reprinted, London, 1873, ii. 121.

29  _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_. Robert Chambers. London and
Edinburgh, 1870, p. 185.

30  _Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales_, by J. O. Halliwell.
London, 1849, p. 228.

31  _Curious Myths_, p. 197.

32   Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 719-20.

33  _The Vision of Dante Alighieri_. Translated by the Rev. H. F.
Cary, A.M. London.

34  _The Folk-Lore of China_, by N. B. Dennys, Ph.D. London and
Hong Kong, 1876, p. 117.

35  _Himalayan Journals_, by Joseph D. Hooker, M.D., R.N., F.R.S.
London, 1855, ii. 278.

36  _Primitive Culture_, by Edward B. Tyler. London, 1871, i 320.

37  _A Brief Account of Bushman Folk-Lore_, by W. H. J. Bleek,
Ph.D. Cape Town, 1875, p. 9.

38  _The History of Greenland_, from the German of David Cranz.
London, 1820, i. 212.

39  _An Arctic Boat Journey in the Autumn of 1854_, by Isaac J.
Hayes, M.D. Boston, U.S., 1883, p. 254.

40  _The Natural Genesis_, by Gerald Massey. London, 1883, i.

41  _The Church Missionary Intelligencer_ for November, 1858, p.

42  _Ibid._, for April, 1865, p. 116.

43   See _Notes and Queries_. First Series. Vol. xi. p. 493.

44  _Researches into the Early History of Mankind_, by Edward B.
Tylor, D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S. London, 1878, p. 378.

45  _Ibid.,_ p. 336.

46  _Notes and Queries: on China and Japan_. Hong Kong, August,
1869, p, 123.

47  _Selected Essays on Language, Mythology, and Religion_.
London, 1881, i. 613.

48  _Vico_, by Robert Flint. Edinburgh, 1884, p. 210.

49  _The Dictionary Historical and Critical_ of Mr. Peter Bayle.
London, 1734, v. 576.

50   See _Lunar World_, by the Rev. J. Crampton, M.A. Edinburgh,
1863, p. 83.

51  _Dictionary of Phrase and Fable_, by the Rev. E. Cobham
Brewer, LL.D. London, p. 592.

52  _The Man in the Moon_. By an Undergraduate of Worcester
College. Oxford, 1839, Part i. p. 3.

53   MS. in the British Museum Library. Additional MSS. No.

54   Lucian's _Works_. Translated from the Greek by Ferrand
Spence. London, 1684, ii. 182.

55  _The Table Book_. By William Hone. London, 1838, ii. 252.

56  _Adventures of Baron Munchausen_. London, 1809, p. 44.

57   Flammarion's _Marvels of the Heavens_, p. 241.

58  _Records of the Past_. Edited by S. Birch, LL.D., D.C.L.
London, iv. 121.

59  _The Philosophie_, 1603, Holland's Transl. p. 1184.

60  _Primitive Culture_, ii. 64.

61  _A Journey to the Moon_, by the Author of _Worlds
Displayed_. London, p. 6.

62   Dennys' _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 101.

63   Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 720.

64   Flammarion's _Marvels of the Heavens_, p. 253.

65  _The Philosophie_, p. 338.

66  _The Woman in the Moone_, by John Lyllie. London, 1597.

67   Dr. Rae, _On the Esquimaux_. Transactions of the Ethnological
Society, vol. iv., p. 147.

68  _Vide_ also _A Description of Greenland_, by Hans Egede.
Second Edition. London, 1818, p. 206.

69  _Amazonian Tortoise Myths_, by Ch. Fred. Hartt, A.M. Rio de
Janeiro, 1875, p. 40.

70  _Algic Researches_, by Henry Rowe Schoolcraft. New York,
1839, ii. 54.

71  _Information respecting the History, &c., of the Indian Tribes_,
by H. R. Schoolcraft. Philadelphia, v. 417.

72  _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, by the Rev. George Turner.
London, 1861, p. 247.

73  _An Account of the Natives of the Tonga Islands in the South
Pacific Ocean_, by William Mariner. Arranged by John Martin,
M.D. London, 1818, ii. 127.

74  _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, by the Rev. W. W.
Gill, B.A. London, 1876, p. 45.

75   Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 716.

76  _Selected Essays_, vol. i. note to p. 611.

77  _The Sacred and Historical Books of Ceylon_, edited by
Edward Upham. London, 1833, iii. 309.

78  _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 716.

79  _Illustrations of Shakespeare_. London, 1807, i. 17.

80  _Dictionnaire Infernal_, par J. Collin de Plancy. Paris, 1863, p.

81  _The Chinese Reader's Manual_, by W. F. Mayers. Shanghai,
1874, p. 219.

82  _The Chinese Readers Manual_, p. 95.

83  _Reynard the Fox in South Africa; or, Hottentot Fables and
Tales_ by W. H. J. Bleek. London, 1864, p. 72.

84  _A Brief Account of Bushman Folk-Lore_, by Dr. Bleek. Cape
Town, 1875, p. 10.

85  _Outlines of Physiology, Human and Comparative_, by John
Marshall, F.R.S. London, 1867, ii. 625.

86  _Lectures on the Native Regions of Mexico and Peru_, by
Albert Réville, D.D. London, 1884, p. 8.

87  _History of the Conquest of Mexico_, by William H. Prescott.
London, 1854, p. 50.

88  _The Native Races of the Pacific States of North America_, by
Hubert Howe Bancroft. New York, 1875, iii. 62.

89  _Zoological Mythology; or, the Legends of Animals_, by
Angelo de Gubernatis. London, 1872, ii. 80.

90  _Ibid._, ii. 76.

91  _Report on the Indian Tribes Inhabiting the Country in the
Vicinity of the 49th Parallel of North Latitude_, by Capt. Wilson.
Trans. of Ethnolog. Society of London, 1866. New Series, iv. 304.

92  _The Races of Mankind_, by Robert Brown, M.A., Ph.D.
London, 1873-76, i. 148.

93   Dennys' _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 117.

94  _The Middle Kingdom_, by S. Wells Williams, LL.D. New
York, 1883, ii. 74.

95  _The Disowned_, by the Right Hon. Lord Lytton, chap. lxii.

96  _Fiji and the Fijians_, by Thomas Williams. London, 1858, i.

97  _Primitive Culture_, i. 321.

98  _On the Aborigines of Southern Australia_, by W. E.
Stanbridge, of Wombat, Victoria. Transactions of Ethnolog. Society
of London, 1861, p. 301.

99  _A Discovery of a New World_, by John Wilkins, Bishop of
Chester. London, 1684, p. 77.

100  _A Voyage to the Pacific Ocean_, by Capt. James Cook,
F.R.S., and Capt. James King, LL.D., F.R.S. London, 1784, ii. 167.

101  _Polynesian Researches during a Residence of nearly Eight
Years in the Society and Sandwich Islands_, by William Ellis.
London, 1833, iii. 171.

102  _Prehistoric Times_, by Sir John Lubbock, Bart., M.P., D.C.L.
London, 1878, p. 440.

103  _Primitive Culture_, i. 318.

104  _See_ Kalisch on _Genesis_. London, 1858, p. 70.

105  _Sermons_, by the Rev. W. Morley Punshon, LL.D. Second
Series. London, 1884, p. 376.

106  _Outlines of the History of Religion_, by C. P. Tiele. Trans. by
J. E. Carpenter. London, 1877, p. 8.

107  _The Myths of the New World_, by Daniel G. Brinton, A.M.,
M.D. New York, 1868, p. 131.

108  _The Primitive Inhabitants of Scandinavia_. By Sven Nilsson
(Lubbock's edit.). London, 1868, p. 206.

109  _Lectures on the Science of Language_. London, 1880, i. 6.

110  _Teutonic Mythology_, iii. 704.

111  _The Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians_.
London, 1878, iii. 39.

112  _Ibid._, iii. 165.

113  _The Mythology of the Aryan Nations_. London, 1882, note to
p. 372.

114  _Russian Folk-Lore_, by W. R. S. Ralston, M.A. London,
1873, p. 176.

115   Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. 260.

116  _A System of Biblical Psychology_, by Franz Delitzsch, D.D.,
translated by the Rev. R. E. Wallis, Ph.D. Edinburgh, 1875, p. 124.

117  _The Book of Isaiah_ liv. 4-6, and lxii. 4.

118  _English Grammar, Historical and Analytical_, by Joseph
Gostwick. London, 1878, pp. 67-72.

119  _Hibbert Lectures_ for 1878, p. 190.

120   Bayle's _Dictionary_, i. 113.

121   Vide Tylor's _Anthropology_. London, 1881, p. 149.

122  _Language and Languages_, by the Rev. Frederic W. Farrar,
D.D., F.R.S. London, 1878, p. 181.

123  _Ibid._, p. 182. Coleridge also was in error on this question.
See his _Table Talk_, under date May 7th, 1830.

124  _Hebrew and Christian Records_, by the Rev. Dr. Giles.
London, 1877, i. 366.

125  _Biblical Psychology_, p. 79.

126  _Antitheism_, by R. H. Sandys, M.A. London, 1883, p. 32.

127  _The Origin and Development of Religious Belief_. London,
1878, i. 187.

128  _The Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson_. London, 1882, i. 274.

129  _Jesus Christ: His Times, Life, and Work_, by E. de Pressensé.
London, 1866, p. 38.

130  _Sketches of the History of Man_, by the Hon. Henry Home of
Kames. Edinburgh, 1813, iii. 364.

131  _Ancient Faiths Embodied in Ancient names_, by Thomas
Inman. London, 1872, ii. 325.

132  _Mythology among the Hebrews_, by Ignaz Goldziher, Ph.D.
London, 877, p. 76.

133  _Primitive Culture_, ii. 271.

134  _Nineveh and its Remains_, by Austen Henry Layard, M.P.
London, ii. 446.

135   Inman's _Ancient Faiths_, i. 93.

136  _The Unicorn: a Mythological Investigation_, by Robert
Brown, F.S.A. London, 1881, p. 34.

137  _The Five Great Monarchies of the Ancient Eastern World_,
by George Rawlinson, M.A. London, 1871, i. 56.

138  _Ibid._, vol. i. p. 123.

139  _Ibid._, vol. i. note to p. 124.

140   Brown's _Unicorn_, p. 34.

141  _Mythology among the Hebrews_, p. 158,

142  _Ibid._, 159.

143  _Ibid._, 160.

144  _Jewish History and Politics_, by Sir Edward Strachey, Bart.
London, 1874, p. 256.

145  _Phoenicia_, by John Kenrick, M.A. London, 1855, p. 301.

146  _Dictionary of the Bible_, edited by William Smith, LL.D. Art.

147  _Dictionary of the Scottish Language_, iii. 299.

148   On _Isaiah_. London, 1824, ii. 374.

149  _The Antiquities of Israel_, by Heinrich Ewald (trans. by
Solly).London, 1876, p. 341.

150  _The Bampton Lectures for 1876_, by William Alexander,
D.D., D.C.L. London, 1878, p. 378.

151  _Rivers of Life, showing the Evolution of Faiths_, by
Major-General J. G. R. Forlong. London, 1883, ii. 62.

152  _Outlines of the History of Religion_, by C. p. Tiele, p. 63.

153  _Dictionary of Phrase and Fable_, p. 194.

154  _The Philosophy of History_, by Frederick von Schlegel,
translated by J. B. Robertson. London, 1846, p. 325.

155  _El-Koran; or, The Koran_, translated from the Arabic by J. M.
Rodwell, M.A. London, 1876, p. 199.

156   Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, ii. 274.

157  _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_. London, 1862, p. 76.

158  _The Zend-Avesta_, translated by James Darmesteter. Oxford,
1883, Part ii., p. 90.

159  _The Philosophy of History_, by G. W. F. Hegel, translated by
J. Sibree, M.A. London, 1861, p. 186.

160a  _The Highlands of Central India_, by Captain J. Forsyth.
London, 1871, p. 146.

160b  _Travels from St. Petersburg in Russia to Diverse Parts of
Asia_, by John Bell of Antermony. Glasgow, 1763, i. 230.

161  _The Early Races of Scotland_, by Forbes Leslie. Edinburgh,
1866, i. 138.

162   Kames' _History of Man_, iii. 299.

163  _The Origin of Civilization and the Primitive Condition of
Man_, by Sir John Lubbock, Bart., M.P., F.R.S., D.C.L., LL.D.
London, 1882, p. 315.

164  _History Of Man_, iii. 366.

165  _The Religions of China_, by James Legge. London, 1880, p.

166  _Ibid._, pp. 44-46.

167  _Religion in China_, by Joseph Edkins, D.D. London, 1878, p.

168  _A Translation of the Confucian Yih King_, by the Rev. Canon
McClatchie, M.A. Shanghai, 1876, p. 386.

169  _Ibid._, p. 388.

170  _Ibid._, p. 449.

171  _The Religions of China_, p. 170.

172  _Religion in China_, p. 105.

173  _Handbook for the Student of Chinese Buddhism_, by Rev. E.
J. Eitel, London. 1870, p. 107.

174  _Hulsean Lectures for 1870_, p. 203.

175  _Hibbert Lectures on Indian Buddhism_, by T. W. Rhys
Davids. London, 1881, p. 231.

176  _A View of China for Philological Purposes_, by the Rev. R.
Morrison. Macao, 1817, p. 107.

177   Dennys' _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 28.

178  _Travels in Tartary, Thibet, and China during the years
1844-46_, by M. Huc. Translated by W. Hazlitt. London, i. 61.

179  _Social Life of the Chinese_, by Rev. Justus Doolittle. New
York, 1867, ii. 65.

180  _China: Its State and Prospects_, by W. H. Medhurst. London,
1838, p. 217.

181  _Ibid._, p. 188.

182  _Researches into the Physical History of Mankind_, by James
Cowles Prichard, M.D., F.R.S. London, 1844, iv. 496-7.

183   Tylor's _Anthropology_, p. 21.

184  _The Historical Library of Diodorus the Sicilian_, Made
English by G. Booth. London, 1700, p. 21.

185  _History of Ancient Egypt_, by George Rawlinson, M.A.
London, 1881, i. 369.

186  _Records of the Past_, Edited by S. Birch, LL.D., D.C.L., etc.
London, vi. iii.

187  _Hibbert Lectures for 1879_, p. 116.

188  _Ibid._, p. 155.

189  _Ancient Egypt_, i. 373.

190  _Records of the Past_, iv. 53.

191  _Egypt's Place in Universal History_, by Christian C. J.
Bunsen, D.Ph., and D.C.L. Translated by C. H. Cottrell, M.A.
London, 1848, i. 395.

192  _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 237.

193  _On the Relations between Pasht, the Moon, and the Cat, in
Egypt_. Transactions of the Society of Biblical Archaeology, 1878,
vol. vi. 3 16.

194  _Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile, in the years_
1768-73, by James Bruce, F.R.S. Edinburgh, 1813, vi. 343.

195  _Ibid._, iv. 36.

196  _A Voyage to Congo_, by Father Jerom Merolla da Sorrento.
Pinkerton's _Voyages and Travels_. London, 1814, vol. xvi. 273.

197  _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, May, 1884.

198  _Travels in the Interior Districts of Africa_, by Mungo Park,
Surgeon. London, 1779, vol. i. 271.

199  _Ibid._, i. 322.

200  _Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa_, by
David Livingstone, LL.D., D.C.L., etc. London, 1857, p. 235.

201  _The Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, by Peter
Kolben, A.M. London, 1731, i. 96.

202  _The Poetical Works of Lord Byron_. London, 1876 (_Don
Juan_, Canto iii.), p. 636.

203  _The Iliad of Homer_. Translated by J. G. Cordery. London,
1871, ii. 183.

204  _A History of Greece_, by George Grote, F.R.S. London,
1872, i. 317.

205  _Vide Pausan_., L. x. c. 32, p. 880. Edit. Kuhnii, fol. Lips,

206  _History of Greece_, i. 317.

207  _The Iliad of Homer_, by Edward Earl of Derby. London,
1867, i. 190.

208   See _Roman Antiquities_, by Alexander Adam, LL.D.
London, 1825, pp. 251-60.

209  _Carmen Saeculare_, 35.

210  _Metam_., lib. xi. 657.

211  _The Divine Legation of Moses Demonstrated_, by William
Warburton, D. D. London, 1837, i. 316.

212   Jamieson's _Scottish Dictionary_, iii. 299.

213  _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 704.

214  _Chaldaean Magic: Its Origin and Development_, by François
Lenormant. London, p. 249.

215  _Flammarion's Astronomical Myths_, p. 35.

216   Leslie's _Early Races of Scotland_, i. 113.

217  _Ibid._, i. 134.

218  _Remaines of Gentilisme and Judaisme_, by John Aubrey,
1686-7. Edited by James Britten, F.L.S. London, 1881, p. 83.

219  _Britannia_, by William Camden, translated by Edmund
Gibson, D.D. London, 1772, ii. 380.

220  _A General History of Ireland from the Earliest Accounts_, by
Mr. O'Halloran. London, 1778, i. 47.

221  _Ibid._, i. 113.

222  _Ibid._, i. 221.

223  _The Towers and Temples of Ancient Ireland_, by Marcus
Keane, M.R.I.A. Dublin, 1867, p. 59.

224  _The Keys of the Creeds_. London, 1875, p. 148.

225   A. S., in _Notes and Queries_ for Nov. 19, 1881, p. 407.

226  _History of the Missions of the United Brethren among the
Indians in North America_, by George Henry Loskiel. London,
1794, Part i. p. 40.

227  _Illustrations of the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the
North American Indians_, by George Catlin. London, 1876, ii. 242.

228  _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, by Gilbert Malcolm
Sproat. London, 1868, p. 206.

229   Brown's _Races of Mankind_, p. 142.

230   Lubbock's _Origin of Civilization_, p. 315.

231   See _Mexico To-day_, by Thomas Unett Brocklehurst.
London, 1883, p. 175.

232   Bancroft's _Races of the Pacific_, i. 587.

233  _Ibid._, iii. 112.

234  _Ibid._, iii. 187.

235  _Hibbert Lectures for 1884_, p. 45.

236  _American Antiquities and Researches into the Origin anti
History of the Red Race_, by Alexander W. Bradford. New York,
1843, p. 353.

237  _Travels in Brazil in the Years_ 1817-20, by Dr. Joh. Bapt. von
Spix and Dr. C. F. Phil. von Martius. London, 1824, ii. 243.

238  _An Account of the Abipones, an Equestrian People of
Paraguay_, from the Latin of Martin Dobrizhoffer. London, 1822, ii.

239  _The Royal Commentaries of Peru_, by the Inca Garcilasso de
la Vega. Translated by Sir Paul Rycaut, Knt. London, 1688, folio, p.

240  _Narratives of the Rites and Laws of the Yncas_. Translated
from the Spanish MS. of Christoval de Molina, by Clements R.
Markham, C.B., F.R.S. London, 1873, p. 37.

241  _History of the Conquest of Peru_, by William H. Prescott.
London, 1878, p. 47.

242  _Jottings during the Cruise of H.M.S. Curaçoa among the
South Sea Islands_ in 1865, by Julius L. Brenchley, M.A., F.R.G.S.
London, 1873, p. 320.

243  _Polynesian Mythology_, by Sir George Grey, late Governor
in Chief of New Zealand. London, 1855, _Pref_. xiii.

244   Kenrick's _Phoenicia_, p. 303.

245  _Workes_ of John Baptista Van Helmont. London, 1644, p.

246   Goldziher's _Hebrew Mythology_, Note to p. 206.

247  _Ibid._, p. 206.

248   Dr. Smith's _Bible Dictionary_, Article _Meni_, by William
A. Wright, M.A., ii. 323.

249   Goldziher's _Hebrew Mythology_, p. 160.

250   Gubernatis' _Zoological Mythology_, i. 18.

251  _Ibid._, ii. 375.

252   Mayers' _Chinese Reader's Manual_, p. 288.

253  _Japanese Fairy World_. Stories from the Wonder Lore of
Japan, by William Elliot Griffis. Schenectady, N. Y., 1880, p. 299.

254   Brown's _Unicorn_, p. 69.

255   Wilkinson's _Ancient Egyptians_, iii. 375.

256  _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. Note to p. 719.

257   Brinton's _Myths of the New World_, p. 130.

258   Schoolcraft's _Indian Tribes_, iii. 485.

259  _Myths of the New World_, p. 133.

260  _Ibid._, p. 134.

261  _Origin of Civilization_, p. 315.

262   _Myths of the New World_, pp. 135-7.

263  _Ibid._, p. 131.

264   Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. 318.

265   Chambers's _Etymological Dictionary_ (Findlater).

266  _Dictionary of Phrase and Fable_, p. 865.

267  _Ecclesiastical Polity_. London, 1617, p. 191.

268  _The Natural History of Infidelity and Superstition_, by J. E.
Riddle, M.A. Oxford, 1852, p. 155.

269  _The Anatomy of Melancholy_. London, 1836, p. 669.

270  _The Descent of Man_, by Charles Darwin, M.A., F.R.S., etc.
London, 1877, p. 121.

271  _Essays. Of Superstition_.

272  _Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind_. Edinburgh,
1828, p. 673

273  _Voltaire_, by John Morley. London, 1878, p. 156. See also
Parton's _Life of Voltaire_.

274   Gubernatis' _Zoological Mythology_, i. 56.

275  _Vide_ Inman's _Ancient Faiths_, ii. 260, 326.

276   Mosheim's _Ecclesiastical History_. London, 1847, i. 116.

277  _History of Brazil_, by Robert Southey. London, 1810, p. 635.

278  _The Dictionary, Historical and Critical_. London, 1734, iv.

279  _Primitive Culture_, i. 262.

280   Leslie's _Early Races of Scotland_, ii. 496.

281  _History of Brazil_, i. 193.

282  _Icelandic Legends_. Collected by Jón Arnason (Powell and
Magnússon). London, 1866, p. 663.

283  _On the Truths contained in Popular Superstitions_, by Herbert
Mayo, M.D. Edinburgh and London, 1851, p. 135.

284  _A Literal Translation of Aristophanes: The Clouds_, by a
First-Class Man of Balliol College. Oxford, 1883, p. 31.

285   See _Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and Folk-Lore_,
by Walter H. Kelly. London, 1863, p. 226.

286  _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 706.

287  _Astronomical Myths_, p. 331

288  _Medea: a Tragedie_. Written in Latin by Lucius Anneus
Seneca. London, 1648, p. 105.

289  _The Childhood of the World_, by Edward Clodd, F.R.A.S.
London, 1875, p. 65.

290  _The Chinese Empire_, by M. Hue. London, 1855, ii. 376.

291  _The Connection of the Physical Sciences_. London, 1877, p.

292   Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 707.

293  _Appendix on the Astronomy of the Ancient Chinese_, by the
Rev. John Chalmers, A.M. Legge's Chinese Classics. Vol. iii. Part i.
Hong-Kong, 1861, p. 101.

294  _The Middle Kingdom_, i. 818.

295  _Ibid._, ii. 73.

296  _Social Life of the Chinese_, by the Rev. Justus Doolittle, of
Fuhchau. New York, 1867, i. 308.

297  _Chinese Sketches_, by Herbert A. Giles. London, 1876, p. 99.

298  _Gems of Chinese Literature_, by Herbert A. Giles. Shanghai,
1884 p. 102.

299  _An Account of Cochin China_. Written in Italian by the R. E.
Christopher Borri, a Milanese, of the Society of Jesus. Pinkerton's
Travels, ix. 816.

300  _A Voyage to and from the Island of Borneo in the East
Indies_, by Captain Daniel Beeckman. London, 1878, p. 107.

301  _History of the Indian Archipelago_, by John Crawfurd, F.R.S.
Edinburgh, 1820, i. 305.

302  _Sketches of the History of Man_, iii. 300.

303  _Thucydides_. Translated by B. Jowett, M.A. Oxford, 1881, i.

304  _The Stratagems of Jerusalem_, by Lodowick Lloyd, Esq., One
of her Majestie's Serjeants at arms. London, 1602, p. 286.

305   Quoted in _Notes and Queries_, 16th of April, 1881, by
William E. A. Axon.

306  _Northern Antiquities_, by Paul Henri Mallett. London, 1790,
i. 39.

307  _Teutonic Mythology_, i. 245.

308  _Ibid._, ii. 705.

309  _Advice to a Son_. Oxford, 1658, p. 105

310   Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 714.

311   Schoolcraft's _Indian Tribes_, v. 2 16.

312   Brinton's _Myths_, p. 137.

313   Bradford's _American Antiquities_, p. 332.

314  _Ibid._, p. 333.

315  _The Antiquities of Mexico_, by Augustine Aglio. London,
1830, folio vi. 144.

316   Bancroft's _Native Races_, iii. 111.

317   Brinton's _Myths_, p. 131.

318  _Polynesian Researches_, i. 331.

319   Mariner's _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 127.

320  _Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon_. London,
1853, p. 552.

321   Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, ii. 272.

322  _Ibid._, ii. 272.

323  _Description of the Western Islands of Scotland_, by Martin
Martin. London, 1716, p. 41.

324  _The Philosophie_, p. 696.

325  _A Voyage to St. Kilda, the remotest of all the Hybrides_, by
M. Martin, Gent. Printed in the year 1698. Miscellanea Scottica.
Glasgow, 1818, p. 34.

326  _The Zend-Avesta_. Oxford, 1883, ii. 90.

327  _Five Hundred pointes of good Husbandrie_, by Thomas
Tusser. London, 1580, p. 37.

328   Flammarion's _Marvels of the Heavens_, p. 244.

329  _The Philosophie_, 1603, p. 697.

330  _English Folk-Lore_, by the Rev. T. F. Thiselton Dyer, M.A.,
Oxon. London, 1880, p. 42.

331  _Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England
and the Borders_, by William Henderson. London, 1866, p. 86.

332  _Knowledge for the Time_, by John Timbs, F.S.A. London, p.

333  _Popular Errors, Explained and Illustrated_, by John Timbs,
F.S.A. London, 1857, p. 131.

334  _A Manual of Astrology_, by Raphael. London, 1828, p. 90.

335   Brinton's _Myths_, p. 132.

336  _Endimion: The Man in the Moone_. London, 159 1, Act i. Sc.

337  _A defensative against the poyson of supposed Prophecies_, by
Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton. London, 1583.

338  _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 118.

339   Tusser's _Good Husbandrie_, p. 13.

340  _Ibid._, p. 13.

341  _Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England_, p. 41

342  _David Copperfield_. The "Charles Dickens" edition, p. 270.

343   See _An Historical Survey of the Astronomy of the Ancients_,
by the Rt. Hon. Sir George C. Lewis, Bart. London, 1862, p. 312.

344  _Popular Astronomy_, by Simon Newcomb, LL.D. New York,
1882, p. 325.

345   _Primitive Culture_, i. 118.

346   Dennys's _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 32.

347  _Folk-Lore; or, Manners and Customs of the North of
England_, by M.A.D. Novo-Castro-sup. Tynan, 1850-51, p. 11.

348   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 42.

349  _Ibid._, p. 41.

350  _Time's Telescope_ for 1814. London, p. 368.

351   Dennys's _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 118.

352  _The Book of Days: a Miscellany of Popular Antiquities_.
Edited by R. Chambers. London and Edinburgh, ii. 203.

353  _The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey_. Edited by
his son. London, 1850, v. 341.

354  _Adam Bede_, chap. xviii.

355  _Scottish Ballads and Songs_. Edited by James Maidment.
Edinburgh, 1868, i. 41.

356  _Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language_. Paisley,
1880, iii. 299.

357   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 38.

358  _Notes and Queries_ for May 16th, 1874, p. 384.

359  _Ibid._ for August 1st, 1874, p. 84.

360  _Amazulu_, by Thomas B. Jenkinson, B.A., late Canon of
Maritzburg. London, 1882, p. 61.

361  _Legends of Iceland_. Collected by Jón Arnason. Second
series. London, 1866, p. 635.

362  _Astrology, as it is, not as it has been represented_, by a
Cavalry Officer. London, 1856, p. 37.

363  _A Manual of Astrology_, by Raphael. London, 1828, p. 89.

364  _The Dignity and Advancement of Learning_. London (Bohn),
1853, p. 129.

365  _Works_. London, 1740, iii. 187.

366   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 41.

367  _Scottish Dictionary_, iii. 300.

368   Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. 117.

369   Vide Potter's _Antiquities of Greece_, ii. 262.

370  _Recreations in Astronomy_, by the Rev. Lewis Tomlinson,
M.A. London, 1858, p. 251.

371   Flammarion's _Marvels of the Heavens_, p. 243.

372  _Genesis, with a Talmudic Commentary_, by Paul Isaac
Hershon. London, 1883, p. 50.

373  _Notes on the Miracles_, p. 363.

374  _The Gospel of S. Matthew illustrated from Ancient and
Modern Authors_, by the Rev. James Ford, M.A. London, 1859, p.

375   See _Light: Its Influence on Life and Health_, by Forbes
Winslow, M.D., D.C.L. London, 1867, p. 94. Also, _The History of
Astronomy_, by George Costard, M.A. London, 1767, p. 275.

376  _The Science and Practice of Medicine_, by William Aitken,
M.D. London, 1864, ii. 353.

377  _Myths of the New World_, p. 132.

378  _Ibid._, p. 134.

379  _Ibid._, p. 135.

380  _The Darker Superstitions of Scotland illustrated from history
and practice_, by John Graham Dalyell. Edinburgh, 1834, p. 286.

381  _The Early Races of Scotland_, i. 136.

382  _The Statistical Account of Scotland_, by Sir John Sinclair,
Bart. Edinburgh, 1791, i. 47.

383  _Works_. London, 1740, iii. 187.

384   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 47.

385  _Some West Sussex Superstitions Lingering in_ 1868.
Collected by Charlotte Latham, at Fittleworth. _The Folk-Lore
Record_ for 1878, p. 45.

386   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 48.

387   Inman's _Ancient Faiths_, ii. 327.

388  _Fairy Tales: their origin and meaning_, by John Thackray
Bunce. London, 1878, p. 131.

389   Martin's _Western Islands of Scotland_, 1716, p. 42.

390  _Letters from the East_, by John Carne, Esq. London, 1826, p.

391   Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 715.

392   Timbs's _Knowledge for the Time_, p. 227.

393  _Dissertation upon Superstitions in Natural Things_, by
Samuel Werenfels, Basil, Switzerland. London, 1748, p. 6.

394   Vide Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 714-716.

395  _Defensative_, 1583.

396a  _A Talmudic Miscellany_. Compiled and translated by Paul
Isaac Hershon. London, 1880, p. 342.

396b  _Caesar's Commentaries_. London (Bohn), 1863, Book i.
Chap. 50.

397  _Popular Rhymes_, p. 217.

398  _The Year Book of Daily Recreation and Information_, by
William Hone. London, 1838, p. 254.

399   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 43.

400  _Gentilisme_, p. 37.

401   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 44.

402  _Extraordinary Popular Delusions_. London, i. 260.

403   Dyer's _Folk-Lore_, p. 38.

404   Henderson's _Folk-Lore_, p. 86.

405  _Popular Romances of the West of England_. Collected by
Robert Hunt, F.R.S. London, 1881, p. 429.

406  _West Sussex Superstitions_, p. 10.

407   C. W. J. in Chambers's _Book of Days_, ii. 202.

408  _Early Races of Scotland_, i. 136.

409  _Scottish Dictionary_, iii. 300.

410   Forlong's _Rivers of Life_, ii. 63.

411  _Secret Memoirs of the late Mr. Duncan Campbel_. Written by
Himself. London, 1732, p. 62.

412  _Folk-Lore_, 1851, p. 8.

413  _Popular Rhymes_.

414   Jamieson's _Scottish Dictionary_, iii. 300.

415  _Familiar Illustrations of Scottish Character_, by the Rev.
Charles Rogers, LL. D. London, 1865, p. 172.

416  _Statistical Account of Scotland_, xii. 457.

417  _Early Races of Scotland_, ii. Note to p. 406.

418   Dalyell's _Darker Superstitions of Scotland_, p. 285.

419  _Romeo and Juliet_, Act ii. Sc. 2.

420  _Light: Its Influence on Life and Health_, p. 101.

421  _Religion as Affected by Modern Materialism_, by James
Martineau, LL.D. London, 1874, pp. 7, 11.

422  _The Relations between Religion and Science_. Bampton
Lectures for 1884, p. 245.

423  _Address delivered before the British Association assembled at
Belfast_, by John Tyndall, F.R.S. London, 1874, p. 61.

424  _Celestial Objects for Common Telescopes_, by the Rev. T.
W. Webb, M.A., F.R.A.S. London, 1873, p. 58.

425  _The Heavens_, by Amédée Guillemin. London, 1876, p. 144.

426  _McFingal_, by John Trumbull. Hartford, U.S.A., 1782 Canto
i. line 69.

427  _Stargazing_, by J. Norman Lockyer, F.R.S. London, 1878, p.

428  _The System of the World_, by M. le Marquis de La Place.
Dublin, 1830, i. 42.

429  _The Solar System_, by J. Russell Hind. London, 1852, p. 48.

430  _History of Physical Astronomy_, by Robert Grant, F.R.A.S.
London, 1852, p. 230.

431  _Cosmos_, by Alexander von Humboldt (Sabine's Edition).
London, 1852, iii. 357.

432  _Handbook of Astronomy_, by Dionysinus Lardner, D.C.L.
London, 1853, pp. 194, 197.

433  _The Planetary Worlds_, by James Breen. London, 1854, p.

434  _Of the Plurality of Worlds. An Essay_. Fourth Edition.
London, 1855, p. 289.

435  _Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation_. Eleventh
Edition. London, 1860, pp. 21, 22.

436  _The Treasury of Science_, by Friedrich Schoedler, Ph.D.
London, 1865, p. 167.

437  _Spectrum Analysis_, by Dr. H. Schellen. London, 1872, p.

438  _The Moon_, by James Nasmyth, C.E., and James Carpenter,
F.R.A.S. London, 1874, p. 157.

439  _Astronomy_, by J. Rambosson. Translated by C. B. Pitman.
London, 1875, p. 191.

440  _The Three Heavens_, by the Rev. Josiah Crampton, M.A.
London, 1879, p. 328.

441  _Scientific and Literary Treasury_, by Samuel Maunder.
London, 1880, p. 470.

442  _The Mathematical and Philosophical Works of John
Wilkins_. London, 1708.

443  _A Plurality of Worlds_, by Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle.
London, 1695, p. 35.

444  _More Worlds than One_, by Sir David Brewster, M.A.,
D.C.L. London, 1874, pp. 120, 121.

445  _An Introduction to Astronomy_, by John Bonnycastle.
London, 1822, p. 367.

446  _Elements of Astronomy_, by John Brinkley, D. D., F.R.S.
Dublin, 1819, p. 113.

447  _Celestial Scenery_, by Thomas Dick, LL.D. London, 1838, p.

448  _The Moon_, by Edmund Neison, F.R.A.S. London, 1876, pp.
17, 129.

449  _The Art of Scientific Discovery_, by G. Gore, LL. D., F.R.S.
London, 1878, p. 587.

450  _The Moon, her Motions, Aspect, Scenery, and Physical,
Condition_, by Richard A. Proctor. London, 1878, p. 300.

451  _Other Worlds than Ours_. London, 1878, p. 167.

452  _An Historical Account of Astronomy_, by John Narrien,
F.R.A.S. London, 1833, p. 448. See also Schroeter's, Observations
on the Atmosphere of the Moon. Philosophical Trans. for 1792, p.

453  _Plutarch's Morals_. Translated by P. Holland. London, 1603,
pp. 825, 1178.

454  _Cosmotheoros_, by Christian Huyghens van Zuylichem.
Glasgow, 1757, pp. 177, 178.

455  _The Wisdom of God in the Creation_, by John Ray, F.R.S.
London, 1727, p. 66.

456  _On the Earths in our Solar System_, by Emanuel Swedenborg.
London, 1840, p. 59.

457  _Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society for_ 1795, p.

458  _Theology_, by Timothy Dwight, LL.D. London, 1836, p. 91.

459  _Astronomy and General Physics_, by William Whewell, M.A.
London, 1836, p. 269.

460  _Astronomical Discourses_, by Thomas Chalmers, D. D.,
LL.D. Edinburgh, 1871, p. 23.

461  _A Defence of Poetry_, in ESSAYS, etc., by Percy Bysshe
Shelley. London, 1852, i. 48.

462  _Physical Theory of Another Life_. London, 1836, p. 200.

463  _The Plurality of Worlds, the Positive Argument from
Scripture_, etc. London (Bagster), 1855, p. 146.

464  _Elements of Physics_, by Neil Arnott, M.D., F.R.S. London,
1865, part ii. p. 684.

465  _Historical Account of Astronomy_, p. 520.


Aah, 111.
Abipones, 129.
Adam, Alexander, 119.
Africa, 114, 177.
Agesinax, 20.
Aglio, 172.
Ahts, 84, 127.
Aitken, Dr., 198.
Ajax, 99.
Albertus, 72.
Alchymists, 196.
Aleutians, 148.
Alexander, Bishop of Derry, 96.
Algonquins, 133.
Al Zamakhshari, 133.
Anahuac, 128.
Anaxagoras, 153, 168.
Anaximines, 153.
Andraste, 121.
Anglo-Saxon, 86.
Angus, 195.
Anninga and Malina, 34.
Anthropomorphism, 19, 87, 118.
Aphrodite, 85.
Apollo, 18.
Apuleius, 119.
Arabians, 83, 97.
Arago, 46.
Arakho, 157.
Araucanians, 172.
_Archaeological Journal_, 28.
Aristophanes, 152.
Aristotle, 2, 41, 49, 153.
Arnason, 150, 192, 262.
Arnott, Dr., 253.
Ashango, 177.
Asia, Northern, 100, 154.
Assyrians, 90.
Astarte, 85, 92, 94, 132.
Asterodia, 19.
Astrology, 191.
Astruc, 163.
Ataensic, 136.
Athenians, 117, 168.
Athol, 121.
Atiu, 59.
Atmosphere of the moon, 234.
Aubrey, 121, 214.
Australians, 72.
Austro-Hungarians, 135.
Aztecs, 128, 136.

Baal, 93.
Babylonians, 92.
Bacon, 78, 143, 190, 194, 202.
Bancroft, H. H., 66, 128, 172.
Barbosa, 57.
Baring-Gould, 23, 25, 31, 67, 88.
Barnardo, Dr., 124.
Bayles, 41, 86, 147.
Beaufort, Sir F., 42.
Bechstein, Ludwig, 22.
Bechten, Princess, 110.
Bechuana, 115.
Beeckman, Capt., 166.
Beer, Wilhelm, 240, 246, 251.
Bell, John, 99.
Berkshire, 214.
Berosus, 91, 153.
Berthold, 54.
Bil and Hiuki, 24.
Birch, Dr. S., 49, 109, 110.
Bleek, Dr.W. H. J., 33,65.
Blindness and the moon, 206.
Bochica, 138.
Bogota, 138.
Bonnycastle, 240.
_Book of Respirations_, 49.
Borneo, 100, 166.
Borri, Father, 165.
Bory de St. Vincent, 115.
Botocudos, 129, 176.
Bradford, A. W., 129, 172.
Brahmins, 6i, 146.
_Brand's Antiquities_, 18.
Brasseur de Bourbourg, 128.
Brazil, 57, 199.
Breen, James, 235.
Brenchley, J. L., 130.
Brewer, Dr. E. C, 43, 97, 140.
Brewster, Sir D., 1, 234, 240.
Brinkley, Dr. John, 241.
Brinton, D. G., 80, 136, 137, 171, 173, 180, 199.
British Apollo, 203.
British Columbians, 35.
British Museum Library, 28, 45.
Britons, Ancient, 66, 120.
Brocklehurst, T. U., 127.
Brougham, Lord, 4.
Brown, Robert, F.S.A., 91, 92, 134.
Brown, Robert, M.A., 69, 127.
Brown, Dr. T., 143.
Brown, Sir W., 142.
Browne, Sir T., 18.
Bruce, James, 113.
Buddha, 62.
Buddhists, 60, 64, 102.
Bunce, J. T., 205.
Buns, Cross, 107.
Bunsen, Baron, 111.
Buraets, 99.
Burton, Robert, 141.
Bushmen, 33, 115.
Bussierre, 128.
Butler, Samuel, 18, 208.
Byron, 117.
Byzantium, 97.

Caesar, 66, 212.
Cain, 32.
Caledonia, 194.
Californian Indians, 171.
Camden, 121.
Campbel, Duncan, 220.
Candrasaras, 67.
Canton, 105, 158.
Caribs, 90.
Carne, 207.
Carpenter, James, 237.
Cassia tree, 64.
Cat, 72, 112.
Catholics, 124, 146.
Catlin, 125.
Celebes, 99.
Ceris, 128.
Ceylon, 62.
Chaldseans, 87, 90, 153, 174.
Chalmers, J., 157.
Chalmers, Dr. T., 249.
Chambers, R., 30, 140, 187, 218, 236.
Champollion, 111.
Chandras, 60, 219.
Chang-Heng, 70.
Chang-ngo, 74.
Chaucer, 29.
Cheap John,
Chinese, 33, 38, 54, 63, 64, 70, 75, 100-108, 134, 154, 156, 164,
     181, 184, 187.
Christmas, 185.
Cicero, 41.
Clarke, Hyde, 112.
Clemens Alexandrinus, 20.
Cleobulus, 55.
Clodd, E., 156.
Cobbett, 85.
Cochin China, 165.
Collin de Plancy, 63.
Collyridians, 146.
Columbus, 171, 232.
Comanches, 127.
Comparative mythology, 37.
_Confessional of Ecgbert_, 120.
Confucianism, 101.
Congo, 114.
_Constantinople Messenger_, 168.
Cook, Capt., 59, 73.
Cordery's Homer, 117.
Cornwall, 149, 179, 186, 194.
Coroados, 129.
Coutinho, 57.
Cowichans, 69.
Cox, Sir G. W., 19, 83.
Crampton, Josiah, 42, 238.
Cranz, 34.
Craters, 41.
Crawfurd, 167.
Creeks, 35, 171.
Crescent, 97.
Cruikshank, 9.
Cuzco, 130.
Cynocephali, 112.
Cynthia, 29.

Dakotahs, 125, 136, 137.
Dalyell, 200, 223.
Dante, 32.
Darien, 35.
Darwin, 142.
Day's eye, 113.
Davids, T. W. Rhys, 103.
Defoe, 220.
Dekkan, 99.
Dekker, 30, 188.
Delawares, 125.
Delitzsch, Dr., 84, 88.
Democritus, 2.
Demons, 198.
Denham, 220.
Denmark, 205.
Dennys, N. B., 33, 54, 70, 104, 181, 184, 187.
Derby, Earl of, 119.
De Rougemont, 36.
Descartes, 49.
Devil, 141.
Devonshire, 149, 179, 203, 214, 220.
Diana, 18, 20, 73, 97, 118, 119, 219.
Dick, Dr. Thomas, 242.
Dickens, 182.
Diodorus, 109.
Diogenes Laertius, 87.
Disease and the moon, 195, 224.
Dobrizhoffer, 129.
Domingo Gonsales, 46.
Doolittle, Justus, 105, 158.
Douce, Francis, 62, 67.
Dragon, 155.
Dreams, 213, 215, 262.
Druids, 120, 222.
Duncan, William, 35.
Dundas, 22.
Dunskey, 201.
D'Urville, 36.
Dwight, Dr. T., 249.
Dyer, 179, 185, 189, 194, 202, 203, 214, 215, 216, 217.

Easter, 124.
East Indian Archipelago, 167.
Eclipses, 152.
_Edda_, 25, 169.
Edkins, Dr. J., 101, 102.
Egede, Hans, 57.
Egyptians, 49, 82, 93, 107, 108, 112, 135, 207.
Eitel, E. J., 102.
Eliot, George, 188.
Ellis, W., 73, 173.
Elysium, 75.
Emerson, R. W., 89.
Endymion, 19, 20, 47, 59.
Eos, 59.
Eramangans, 130.
Esquimaux, 35, 56.
Essex, 179.
Ethiopians, 116.
Euripides, 68, 195.
Euthydemus, 177.
Ewald, Heinrich, 96.

Farrar, F. W., 86, 103.
Fetu negroes, 177.
Fijians, 71, 261.
Finns, 120, 154.
Fischart, 23.
Flammarion, 2, 49, 55, 120, 154, 178, 196.
Fleachta, 121.
Flibbertigibbet, 66.
Flint, Professor, 39.
Fontenelle, 54, 239.
Forlong, Major-General, 96.
Forster, Dr., 185.
Forsyth, Capt. J., 99.
Fortune and the moon, 208.
Fox, Charles J., 112.
Fraunhofer, 231.
French, 20, 32, 180, 216.
Friendly Islands, 59, 173.
Frisians, North, 23.
Frog in the moon, 69, 134.
Fuhchau, 105.

Galen, 198.
Galileo, 1.
Garcilasso de la Vega, 130.
Gender, 16, 84.
Germans, 22, 83, 86, 120, 170, 212.
Gibbon, 97, 98.
Giles, Dr. J. A., 87.
Giles, Herbert A., 70, 162, 164.
Gill, W. W., 59.
Gizeh Pyramid, 108.
Godwin, Francis, 46.
Goethe, title page.
Goldziher, 90, 92, 133.
Gore, George, 243.
Gostwick, J., 85.
Gotch, Dr. F. W., 94.
Goths, 120.
Graah, Capt., 260.
Grant, Robert, 234.
Greeks, 19, 75, 80, 117, 155, 168, 195, 201.
Greenlanders, 34, 170, 260.
Grey, Sir George, 65, 131.
Griffis, 134.
Grimm, 26, 54, 60, 62, 82, 120, 135, 154, 157, 170, 207, 210.
Grote, George, 117, 118.
Gruithuisen, 245.
Guaycurus, 49.
Gubernatis, 67, 133, 145.
Guillemin, 231.
Guinea, 177.
Gyffyn Church, 31.

Hakkas, 184.
Halliwell, J. O., 31, 213, 220.
Hampshire, 85.
Hans Stade, 149.
Hare in the moon, 60.
Hare-lip, 65.
Hartt, C F., 57.
Hayes, Dr. J. J., 35.
Hebrews, 75, 80, 85, 92, 94, 106, 197, 210.
Heden of the Persians, 75.
Hegel, 98.
Helmont, 132.
Hemans, Mrs., 75.
Henderson, 179, 182.
Henotheism, 101.
Herefordshire, 215.
Herodotus, 98, 112.
Herschel, Sir John, 42.
Herschel, Sir William, 231, 248.
Hershon, 197.
Hervey Islands, 59, 174.
Hesperides, 75.
Hesychios, 108.
Hibernian, 5.
Himalayas, 33.
Hind, J. R., 234.
Hindoos, 154, 219.
Hippogypians, 47.
Hiuki and Bil, 24.
Homer, 117, 119.
Hone, 9,48, 214.
Hooke, 230.
Hooker, J. D., 33.
Hooker, R., 140.
Horace, 119.
Horrack, P. J. de, 49.
Hottentots, 65, 115.
Howard, Earl of Northampton, 181, 210.
How I, 70.
Hue, 104, 156.
Humboldt, 235.
Hunt, Robert, 217.
Huntingdonshire, 181.
Huyghens, 247.
Huythaca, 138.

Iceland, 150, 192, 262.
Iddesleigh, Earl of, 261.
Ina, 59.
Incas, 130.
India, 60, 99, 133, 145, 155, 156, 167.
India, Central, 99.
Indians, American, 35, 57, 69, 125, 127, 136, 155, 156, 171.
Indras, 133.
Indus, 133.
Inhabitants of the moon, 47, 106.
Inman, Dr. T., 90, 146, 203.
Iosco, 57.
Iphigenia, 144.
Irish, 43, 45, 121.
Iroquois, 125.
Isaac, 32.
Isis, 49, 109, 118, 136, 199.
Italy, 156, 185, 216.

Jack and Jill, 25, 136.
Jacob, 21.
Jamieson, 17,95,120, 189, 195, 218.
Jamunda, 57.
Japanese, 108, 134.
Jenkinson, T. B., 190.
Jerome, 198.
Jerusalem pipes, 31.
_Jest Book_ of 17th century, 11, 44.
Jews, 21, 87, 149.
Johnston, H. H., 114.
_Journey to the Moon_, 50.
Judas Iscariot, 32.
Jut-ho, 63.

Kaffirs, 115.
Kalisch, M. M., 75.
Kalmucks of Tartary, 63.
Kames, Lord, 89, 99, 100, 153, 168.
Kaniagmioutes, 127.
Keane, 123.
Kelly, W. H., 152.
Kenrick, John, 94, 132.
_Keys of the Creeds_, 124.
Khasias, 33.
Khonds, 99.
Khonsu, or Chonsu, 109, 110, 135
King, Capt. James, 59, 73.
Kirkmichael, 221.
Kolben, Peter, 115.
_Koran_, 98.
Korkus, 99.
Kun, 120.

La Martiniere, 196.
Lancashire custom, 104.
Laplace, 16, 234.
Lardner, Dr. D., 235.
Latham, Mrs., 202, 217.
Layard, Sir A. H., 90, 174.
Lees, Edwin, 216.
Legge, Dr. James, 100, 102.
Leibnitz, 79.
Lemon, Mark, 4.
Lenormant, 120.
Leslie, Forbes, 99, 120, 149, 200, 218, 222.
Lewis, Sir G. C, 118.
Lindley, Professor, 180.
Lippershey, Hans, 1.
Lithuanians, 154, 195.
Littledale, 187.
Livingstone, 115.
Livy, 119.
Lloyd, Lodowick, 168.
Locke, R. Alton, 42.
Lockyer, J. N., 232.
Loskiel, G. H., 125.
Lowth, Bishop, 95.
Luan, St., 123.
Lubbock, Sir John, 73, 100, 127, 137.
Lucian, 47.
Lucius, 120.
Lucretius, 143.
Luna, 4, 119.
Lunar fancies, 145.
Lunar influences, 175.
Lunar inhabitation, 227.
Lunar stone, 177.
Lunatic, 6.
Lyllie, or Lilly, 7, 55, 181.
Lyndhurst, Lord, 4.
Lytton, Lord, 70.

McClatchie, Canon, 101.
Mackay, Charles, 215.
Madler, 240, 246, 251.
Mahomet, 97.
Maidment, 188.
Maimonides, 90.
Makololo, 115.
Malayan, 113.
Malina and Anninga, 34.
Mallett, 169.
Mamarbasci, 168.
Managarmer, 169.
Mandarins, 159.
Mandingoes, 114.
Mangaians, 59.
_Man in the Moon drinks Claret_, 11.
Mani, 24.
Mariner, W., 59, 173.
Marini, 86.
Marken, 23.
Marshall, Dr. John, 65.
Martin, 177, 206.
Martineau, Dr. James, 228.
_Mary, Glories of_, 146.
Mary Magdalene, 54.
Massey, Gerald, 35.
Maunder, Samuel, 238.
Maurice, F. D., 93.
Mayers, W. F., 38, 64, 134.
Mayo, Herbert, 151.
Mbocobis, 84.
Medhurst, W. H., 107, 108.
Meen, 96.
Melloni, 187.
Meni, 95.
Merolla, 114.
Mem of the Hindoos, 75.
Mexicans, 66, 127, 138, 172, 199.
Meztli, 127, 200.
Microcosm, 191.
Milton, 13, 100.
Ming Ti, 164.
Mityan, 72.
Molina, 130.
Mongolians, 64, 157.
Moon-cakes, 104, 106.
Moon, cold, 186.
"  full, 209.
"  misty, 185.
"  new, 189, 209.
"  no, 194.
"  old, 187.
Moon folk, 205.
_Moon Hoax_, 42.
Moon inhabitation, 227.
Moon lake, 67.
Moon worship, 77.
"Moone" Tavern, 11.
Mooney, 5.
Moors, 154.
Morduans, 100.
Morley, John, 144.
Morrison, R., 103.
Moses, 21.
Mosheim, 146.
Mountains of the Moon, 2.
Müller, Max, 16, 39, 59, 60, 82, 85, 86.
Munchausen, Baron, 48.
Mundilföri, 24.
Muyscas, 138.

Nanahuatl, 200.
Narrien, John, 244, 254.
Nash, Thomas, 260.
Nasmyth, James, 237.
Neal, Sir Paul, 43.
Neckham, Alexander, 27.
Negroes, 225.
Neison, Edmund, 242.
Nelson, 131.
Newcomb, Simon, 183.
New Hebrides, 130.
New Netherlands, 180.
_New York Sun_, 42.
New Zealanders, 36.
Nicaraguans, 138.
Nilsson, Sven, 81.
Nithi, 24.
Norfolk, 216.
Norse, 24.
Northumberland, 31.
Northumberland, Duke of, 231.
_Notes and Queries_, 124, 168, 217.
Nubians, 113.
Nyi, 24.

O'Halloran, 121.
Olbers, 245.
"Origin of Death," 65.
Orinokos, 173.
Orkney, 221, 223.
Ormuzd, 98.
Osborn, Francis, 170.
Osiris, 49, 109, 135.
Otaheite, 73.
Othman, 97.
Ottawas, 57.
Otway, 53.
Oxford undergraduate, 44.

Pachacamac, 130.
Paine, Thomas, 219.
Pan, 86.
Panama, 33.
_Pancatantram_, 67.
Pandora, 56.
Paradise, 75.
Park, Mungo, 114.
Pasht, 113.
Paul, 20, 79.
Pausanias, 118.
Peacock, Reginald, 30.
_Penitential _of Theodore, 120.
Periodicity, 225.
Perkunas, 83.
Persians, 80, 98, 131, 133, 149.
Personification, 19.
Peruvians, 130, 172, 219.
Philip of Macedon, 97.
Phlebotomy, 196.
Phocis, 118.
Phoenicia, 93, 121.
Photography, 8, 232.
Phrygia, 96.
Picart, 139.
Pindar, 195.
Plato, 49, 153.
Pleiades, 129.
Pliny, 178, 198.
_Plurality of Worlds, Essay on_, 236.
_Plurality of Worlds. Positive Argument_, 253.
Plutarch, 20, 49, 55, 113, 135, 177, 178, 193, 246.
Pocock, 97.
Poetry, 14.
Polybius, 68.
Polynesians, 50, 59.
Pontus, 96.
Pope, Alexander, 81, 119, 254.
Potter, Dr. John, 195.
Prescott, W. H., 66, 130.
Pressensé, Dr. E. de, 89.
Prichard, J. C, 108.
Prideaux, 97.
Priestly, John, 65.
Proctor, R. A., 222, 244.
Praetorius, 23.
Protagoras, 168.
Protogenia, 19.
_Punch_, 4.
Punshon, W. M., 75.
Pythagoras, 147, 260.

_Quarterly Review_, 128.
Queen of heaven, 92, 104.
Quiateot, 138.

Rabbit in the moon, 56, 105.
Rae, Dr., 56, 113.
Raka, 145.
Ralston, W. R. S., 83.
Ramayanam, 145.
Rambosson, 237.
Rantum, 24.
"Raphael," 180, 192.
Rashi, 107.
Rat story, 71.
Ravvlinson, George, 91, 109.
Ray, John, 248.
Renfrewshire, 220.
Renouf, P. le Page, 109, 112.
Reville, Dr. A., 66, 128.
Riddle, J. E., 141.
Rimmon, 121.
Ritson, Joseph, 16, 28.
Rodvvell, J. M., 98.
Rogers, Charles, 221.
Romans, 80, 83, 119, 168, 201.
_Roman Missal_, 146.
Rona, 36.
Rosse, Earl of, 231.
Rudbeek, 120.

Sabianism, 100.
St. Johnston, Alfred, 262.
St. Kilda, 178.
Sakkria, 60.
Sakyamuni, 63.
Sale, 97.
Saliva Indians, 49.
Samoa, 59.
Samoides, 100.
Sandys, R. H., 88.
Sanskrit, 16, 60, 64.
Santhals, 219.
Saracens, 97.
Sasanka, 60.
Savannah, 225.
Scaliger, 155.
Scandinavians, 24.
Schaumberg-Lippe, 23.
Schellen, Dr. H., 237.
Schlegel, F., 97.
Schoedler, Dr. F., 236.
Schoolcraft, H. R., 57, 136, 171.
Schroeter, 235, 241, 245.
Scotch Highlanders, 149, 214, 221.
Scotland, 177, 185,223.
Selene, 19, 59.
Selenograpkia, 45.
Selish Indians, 69.
Serapion, 20.
Servian, 83.
Sexuality, 84, 108.
Shakespeare, 9,30, 66, 152, 205, 223, 232.
Shangalla, 113.
Shang-te, 102.
Shelley, 3, 251.
Shepherd of Banbury, 186.
Sherburne, Sir E., 155.
Sheridan, 22.
Sibyl, 20.
Sidonians, 94.
Silver, 218, 220.
Sin and Sinim, 91, 93.
Sina, 59.
Sinaloas, 173.
Sinclair, Sir John, 201, 222.
Sin-too, 108.
Sirturi, 1.
Slavonians, 33, 83.
Sloman, Charles, 14.
Smith, Charlotte, ix.
Smith, Dr. W., 95.
Smoker-man in the moon, A, 13.
Socrates, 117.
Sol, 24.
Solaria, 201.
Somas, 133, 219.
Somerville, Mary, 157.
Southey, 147, 149, 187.
Spaniards, 224.
Spectrum, lunar, 237.
Spens, Sir Patrick, 188, 261.
Spenser, Edmund, 45.
Spix and Martius, 129.
Sprengel, 199.
Sproat, 127.
Staffordshire, 202, 217.
Stanbridge, W. E., 72.
_Standard_, 261.
Stent, G. S., 54.
Stilpo, 11.
Stoics, 153.
Strachey, Sir E., 93.
Suffolk, 218.
Superstition, 140.
Sussex, 203, 217.
Swabia, 23, 66.
Swedenborg, 248.
Swedes, 25, 193.
Sylt, 23.

Tacitus, 119.
Tahitians, 73, 173.
_Talmud_, 21, 197.
Taoism, 64, 102.
Taru, 176.
Taylor, Hudson, 28.
Taylor, Isaac, 251.
Telescope, 1.
Temple, Bishop, 228.
Teotihuacan, 127.
Tezcucans, 66.
Theism, 126.
Thorpe, Benjamin, 25.
Thoth, 83, 109, 111.
Thucydides, 168.
Tides, 183.
Tiele, C. P., 76, 97.
Timbs, John, 180, 207.
_Time's Telescope_, 186.
_Timon_, a Play, II.
Tithonos, 59.
Tlascaltecs, 172.
Toad in the moon, 69.
Tobler, 22.
Tomlinson, 195.
Tongans, 59, 173.
Tongusy, 99.
Torquay, 190.
Trench, 198.
Trumbull, John, 232.
Tschuwasches, 100.
Tuathal, 122.
Tunguses, 99.
Tupper, M. F., 50.
Turks, 97, 155.
Turner, Dr. G., 59.
Tusser, 178, 181.
Tylor, E. B., 37, 49, 72, 74, 84, 86, 90, 98, 109, 138, 148, 176,184,
Tyndall, John, 229.
Tyrwhitt's Chaucer, 29.

Ulceby, 189.
Unk-ta-he, 136.
Upham, Edward, 60.

Verne, Jules, 48.
Vico, 39.
Virgin Mary, 85, 146.
Voltaire, 144.
_Völu-Spa_, 24.

Wagner, Dr. W., 19.
Wales, 31.
Walled plains in the moon, 234.
Warburton, W., 120.
Water in the moon, 234.
Weather, 183.
Webb, T. W., 231.
Werenfels, 209.
Whewell, W., 249.
Whitby, 189.
Wilkins, John, 72, 238.
Wilkinson, Sir G., 82, 135.
Williams, S. Wells, 70, 157.
Williams, Thomas, 71.
Wilson, Captain, 69.
Wilson, Rev. Mr., 48.
Winckelmann, 108.
Winslow, Dr. Forbes, 198, 224.
Witchcraft, 151.
Witch of Edmonton, 226.
Woman in the moon, 53.
Worcestershire, 216.
Wright, Thomas, 27.
Wright, W. A., 133.

Xenophanes, 41, 88.

Yorkshire, 131.
Yue Lao, 33.
Yue Ping, 103.

Zabaists, 90.
Zend-avesta, 98, 178.
Zulus, 190.

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