of Egypt as indispensable to the strength of our hold over India, and, if annexation would strengthen that hold and prevent the advance of Russia, he would be prepared to annex Egypt. This alternative, as he shows, however, is unfortunately surrounded by more difficulties now than it would have been when he first advocated it. In the pursuance of any such policy England has now a formidable rival in France. Had England, indeed, acted at the time which Mr. Dicey pointed out as most favourable-had she stepped in when France, weakened by her conflict with Germany, would have been unable to say her nay-then undoubtedly the placing of a corporal's guard at Port Said would have secured to England the command of the Canal, and the practical mastery of Egypt. But she did not take the step then, and circumstances now are strongly against her. Mr. Kinglake has put into eloquent words his prophecy of the time when "the Englishman, leaning far over to hold his loved India, shall plant a firm foot on the banks of the Nile, and sit in the seats of the faithful." But the Frenchman now has planted “a firm foot on the banks of the Nile," and, if he could, would sit in the seats of the faithful himself. He is most unwilling that any other European power should do so. It is doubtful if England could now occupy Egypt without entailing upon herself a prolonged struggle, and incurring the responsibility for plunging Europe into a general war. Of the morality of annexation it is not here my business to speak. It may be maintained by one school of philosophic politicians that the rights of nations are as the rights of individuals, and that one powerful State has no more right to wrest from a weaker her land or her authority than a powerful man has the right to snatch from one more feeble his watch or his purse. Others, however, claim, with equal show of reason, that nations are not like individuals; that if we accept in any sense the teachings of our history for guides, we are bound to consider the welfare of England first, and what they would call political philanthropy afterwards. If England has any right to India, they urge, she is justified in zealously and jealously guarding that dominion; and they ask why England now should refuse to act upon those principles of international morality which have entitled her to be mistress of her great dependency; which allowed Germany to take Alsace and Lorraine from France; and which permit the onward march of Russia. But if it be regarded as admissible for one moment that England has a right to interfere with Egypt, if her honour and the safety of her Indian Empire depend upon it, it is the duty of those who advocate this step to show very clearly that her honour and her rule are threatened. JUSTIN H. MCCARTHY, 409 NEW FINDS IN SHETLANDIC AND WELSH FOLK-LORE. (Conclusion.) VIII. E VERY creed, like every philosophical system, seeks to encompass the whole world, the smallest as well as the greatest things, within the web of its thoughts or beliefs. This is especially the case with ancient faiths more directly traceable to Natureworship; and with the scattered remnants of those faiths, the charm-practising popular customs. Not an apple can be grown, even now, in some parts of the world, not an ear of corn can ripen and be cut, without a spell-song being sung about the tree at stated times, or a presiding deity's rude image being formed by the reapers out of the sheaves which she or he is supposed to have helped into golden growth. The secret workings of Nature appear, indeed, most wonderful, to the observing eye and mind, in its tiniest appearances, in its every-day outcome. The Greeks had this feeling. So had, and partly still have, the Germanic populations wherever the popular classes are yet tenacious of the old lore and customs. Keeping this in mind, I think no surprise need be felt that from Nuggles and Nixies-from quadruped animal symbolism, and from a humanised rendering of the powers of the liquid element-we should have to come even to some mysterious Fish Lore. Here, the turbot, a very good fish, is first of all to be taken into account. In Scandinavian, Icelandic, and German speech, the turbot, and fishes akin to it, bear a name indicating sacredness. This hallowed character of certain members of the finny tribe is a feature of folk-belief to be met with from Vedic times down to superstitions still current among Australian aborigines. In the Flood myth of the ancient Hindu, which in its chief details tallies with the later Babylonian, and the still later Biblical, account, Manu ("the man") is told by the Divine Fish to build a vessel, or Ark, for safety. Perhaps one of the constituent elements of this myth is the fishlike shape of the earliest boats-for which the Fish got a sacred name as a prototype of navigation; hence, as a practical Saviour. Aphroditean ideas are also frequently connected with the fish-cult. We find it so in Hindoo, Chaldean, Phoenikian, Egyptian, Greek, and Roman mythology, in connection with Durga, the terrible Goddess of Love, with Ishtar, Dagon, Isis, and Venus. In Christology, the Fish continues playing a part among the early sects; the Saviour himself being called "the Fish" ("Ichthys," in Greek, which is explained by the initials of Ιησούς Χριστός Θεοῦ Υἱός Σωτήρ ; meaning: Jesus Christ, of God the Son, the Saviour). In a well-known German story, recorded in Grimm's Tales, a Fish, called Buttje, has creative and prophetic qualities, and is a Maker of all things desired. In one of the German myths about the Wild Huntsman, a Fish flies before the ghostly Chace. The Wild Huntsman himself, who is but a transfiguration of Wodan, or Odin, appears in a Swabian tale as a Neck (that is, as a Water-God) on a sea-born stallion. All this, I believe, is referable to that waterworship which among so many nations is the source from which the foam-born Deities of Love arise. A different order of ideas may be embodied in the religious awe with which the turbot seems to have been looked upon on Teutonic ground. On this subject, the following has recently reached me from Shetland :— "The turbot of commerce, proper, is seldom captured on our coasts. Although I have been a fisherman for many years, I have never seen one caught, while the other (halibut) is very plentiful. Now, I have never yet heard any explanation of the derivation of Holy Buttje, or the holy fluke; and the question is, what was it holy to? Was it hallowed or consecrated to some deity? Very probably -thought I ; and next, what deity was it likely to be? . . . . I have very strong presumptive proof that the fish was held sacred to some one, or some thing, from the superstitions attaching to its capture, and which I myself was once compelled to observe-a loose-cast among my brother-fishermen. An air of mystery always surrounded its capture, that distinguished it from that of other fish, and often caused me to wonder, but which I could not comprehend. No sooner did the man at the line feel a turbot (halibut)—and his presence at the bottom of the sea was easily recognised by his manœuvres-than the event was the signal for silence, and signs took the place of words. The utmost freedom allowed on such occasions and that only when any doubt hung over it-was to ask the question only in an undertone: Is it a fish, tinks du? or is du i' da grund?'--meaning: 'Do you think you feel a fish? or has the See "Wodan, the Wild Huntsman, and the Wandering Jew," by Karl Blind, in the Gentleman's Magazine of July, 1880. line got foul of the bottom?' If the former was affirmed, it was only by a nod of the head, and then a silent activity took possession of the crew, over whom a spell seemed to hang; and woe betide the greenhorn that spake or uttered the name of the fish! Should such a calamity happen, as it sometimes did with the uninitiated, and should the turbot (halibut) be lost after the offence, the fisherman in question was solely blamed for the loss, and for a time his life was made miserable by the rest." 1 The following from the same pen is also of importance : "I have learned another fact in regard to the turbot-namely, that the 'blugga-banes' (the breast-bones) of the turbot were always preserved in some secret chink in the wall of a fisherman's cottage, in order to insure luck. I never saw this observed in my father's cottage. In fact, both my parents endeavoured to discard all superstitious ideas as foolish. And only curiosity led me to inquire into them, and, if possible, to try to trace their cause and origin; and it is this fact that renders your article so interesting to me now." As to the religious veneration, in which the turbot was clearly once held, the thoughtful writer of the letter says, correctly enough : "It only adds another proof of the fact so often found that a superstitious usage among a peasantry may have its roots far down into a past paganism, and that it may be observed with all the seeming earnestness and reverence that first attached to its observance, while the actors could give no reason for it, but that they were taught it was right to do so. Another fact I may mention is: the kinn-fish,' that is, the cheek-flesh, of the turbot is never eaten, but always cut out raw. On this, however, I do not lay much stress; only, it is a peculiarity, and never observed in the case of other fish.' To my mind, this peculiarity carries with it strong evidence of some special rite connected with the preparation of that holy fish as a dish. IX. But to whom was the turbot hallowed? My Shetlandic correspondent suggested Thor as the butt-fish's divine genius-an idea which I had rejected in my mind before, but which, on renewed examination, I cannot any longer look upon as quite untenable. Various weak attempts have been made to derive the turbot's name from Latin or Greek (turbo, and 'póußoc). They may at once be put aside by the simple remark that in Nether German, as well as in Swedish, "butt," or "butta," is the real name of the fish. Tur-bot is, therefore, clearly a compound. The English word "halibut" (Holy Butt) contains proof to the same effect-namely, ! Communicated by Mr. Robert Sinclair, that "butt" is the root of the word, and "Tur" or "Tor" only an addition. To the English "halibut" corresponds the German Heiligen-Butt, or Wicheln-Butt (from weihen, to consecrate). There are other German compound words referring to that fish ; for instance, Stein-Butte (Stone-Butt). This, at first, seemed to me the counterpart for the Keltic "turbot" (Welsh: torbut);-"tor' meaning stone. No explanation of this word Stein-Butte, or tor-but, can, however, be given from any habits of the fish. "Tor," or "Tur," must therefore have a different meaning. Now, curiously enough, we find in German also the word Dorn-Butt. We are thus once more driven to inquire whether the word "Dorn" may not be a popular etymological substitution for Thunaer, Donar, or Thor (English: Thur, as in Thursday). This seems likely enough when we remember that in South Wales, on ground where Teutonic invaders and settlers have introduced their nomenclature of places, there is an islet, called Thorney (Thor's Island); so also, in Orkney, a Tur Ness, or Turn Ness (Thor's Ness). Again, when we look into the Icelandic sagas, we actually come across the name of "Stone Thor"; nay, in the Skalda, where the struggle of the God of Thunder with the Giant Hrungnir is recorded, Thor gets a stone-splinter into his head, from the stone-weapon of his foe; "which still sticks there, to this day." All this makes it rather probable that Tor-but, or Tur-bot, DornButt and Stone-Butt, really point to Thor; and that the word halibut, Heiligen- or Wicheln-Butt, is but a later veil of sacredness thrown over the fish. And is it not remarkable that the enchanted Buttje, or Fish-Prince, in Grimm's Tale,' finally smashes up the Fisherman's wonderful new wealth in a great storm with thunder and lightning? This, too, would go to prove the Butt's identity with Thor; the Fish-Prince being thus apparently a real Thor-Butt. Loki once changed into a salmon. Why not Thor into a butt-fish? I may notice here, in passing, that in the German incantation by which the fisherman always brings up the enchanted Fish-Prince from the sea, there are two words (or perhaps it is a single word) unexplainable from our tongue, and which have always baffled investigators. The incantation begins thus:: That is : Manntje, Manntje Timpe Te! Little Man! Little Man Timpe Te! Little Butt! Little Butt in the sea! Nobody knows what Timpe Te, or, maybe, Timpeté, means. Now, it is highly probable that the lines in question form a parallelism, or Kinder- und Haus-Märchen, No. 19. : |